Page 13

Lucky frowned at him. “Look, I had my reasons, okay? And no offense, but they’re none of your business.”

The second guard grabbed Lucky’s arm, pulling it behind his back. A look of alarm crossed Dina’s face.

“Wait, what are you doing?” she said. “I take it back. Don’t arrest him. Let him go, you don’t need to do this . . .”

“Sounds like he’s a danger to himself and others,” the second guard said, manhandling Lucky. “We don’t like people who don’t even bother to send an RSVP to a wedding, do we, Hassan?”

“No, we do not, Deepak,” the first officer said, reaching out for Lucky as if to drag him away. Dina’s eyes were wide with horror, and though it was nice to be the recipient of her concern, Lucky couldn’t continue with the ruse any longer. Also, the cuffs were tight on his wrists.

“All right, you’ve had your fun, guys,” Lucky said. “You’re scaring the lady.”

Dina reached across to grab Lucky’s arms. “Please, let him go. I’m a lawyer. You can’t do this. I was just . . . joking before. He’s a great guy. The best!”

“Oy, chutiya, are you really the best?” Deepak asked, using the Hindi profanity. Hassan laughed beside him. “Tell you what, I’ll give you a pass this time if you promise to throw down some bhangra moves at the wedding.”

Dina stared at Deepak. “What?”

Lucky nodded, resigned. “Dina, meet Deepak and Hassan. Me and Arshad have known these two idiots since we were in grade six. As you can see, their maturity hasn’t advanced much since then. Are you going to uncuff me, dumbass?”

“If you don’t come by the old neighborhood, you know I’ll come arrest you again,” Deepak said, laughing and reaching for his keys.

“Even if you did disappear on us for years,” Hassan added.

“I moved to Chicago. You threw me a going-away party,” Lucky said, his lips quirking in a smile. He had missed Deepak and Hassan.

“You vanished, just like that chutiya Arshad,” Hassan added. “Big man’s phone must be broken, because he never picks up when I call or answers when I text.”

“Maybe you should take a hint, then,” Lucky joked as Deepak released him from the handcuffs. He rubbed his wrists, then hugged his friends. When he looked around for Dina, he realized she had taken advantage of the distraction and disappeared.

“Your girl went that way,” Deepak said, indicating the exit.

Lucky followed his friend’s pointing finger and was already moving when he responded. “She’s not my girl. That’s Arshad’s wife.”

He ignored his friends’ laughter and Hassan’s question, yelled across the concourse: “Then why are you the one running after her?”

Chapter Seven

Dina was almost at the exit when Lucky caught up with her. Hassan’s question—his taunt, really—was a good one, yet the urge to take off after Dina had been more instinct than anything else. So was clasping her arm to get her to stop. She looked pointedly down at where his fingers were curled around her bicep, and he immediately let go, flushing.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was surprised to see you and didn’t want you to rush off. Not until we had a chance to talk.”

She fixed him with a glare. “A bit late for that, don’t you think?”

Lucky felt himself grow warm under her censure, and then his temper started to rise. What right did Dina have to be so hostile? He was the one with the broken heart, while she was living her perfect life, happily married to Arshad, the backstabbing snake.

“I really don’t understand why you’re upset with me,” he said. “You told those border guards to arrest me. What if they had taken you at your word? I could have been in real trouble, Dina.”

It was her turn to flush and look away, which gave him even more time to study her face, her dark eyebrows, the fan of thick eyelashes against smooth brown skin, her nose, slightly crooked, which she had once complained about to him, and which he secretly thought was his favorite feature. He told himself to stop staring. He was supposed to be mad at her.

“I would have intervened if they had actually detained you. Or, at the very least, visited you in airport jail,” she said, but he caught the contrite tone in her voice, the ghost of the easy teasing he had once enjoyed.

Dina had always been funny. He wondered whether Arshad appreciated her jokes. At the thought of his ex–best friend, the faint smile on his face vanished.

“I’m sure you would have forgotten me the second I was out of your sight,” he said coolly. “After all, there’s past precedence. Belated Mabrook on your wedding, by the way. Where is Arshad? I’ll be honest, I never thought him the marrying type, but I guess you never know what people are capable of, right?”

This question, combined with his admittedly rude comment, seemed to push her over the edge. The Dina he had known in law school was usually calm and even keeled, but this Dina was something else entirely: Her color was high, eyes flashing in anger, fists curled at her side; he thought she had never looked so beautiful. Get it together, Lucky told himself, even as part of him wondered what else he could say to get a reaction out of her.

“You disappeared from my life for six years. You didn’t bother to respond to any of my texts or my wedding invitation. What are you doing here, Lucky?”