Page 42 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

“Thank you. It’s been a long time, but some wounds never heal,” she said, then pulled out a smile. “That’s why I enjoy talking to you. You sort of remind me of my days with her. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I love talking about my work, and usually, my audience is a little less attentive and a lot more distracted.”

She laughed just as Mihir turned into the driveway of a huge house flanked by elm and oak trees. A tall, bearded man leaned on a motorbike near the entryway, talking on his phone.

“What’s Grant doing here?” Aunty said, and I peered through the tinted windows to ogle at the man I’d teased Mihir about last night.

He and Mihir looked like two peas in a pod—same hefty build, same full beard. Same attitude, except Grant was a tad taller with deep brown hair. Handsome was definitely an understatement. I smiled. This was good ammunition to ruffle Mihir.

“He’s here to visit Dad,” Mihir said before elegantly exiting his car and holding the door open for his mother. “He called to ask about our ETA.”

Mihir called out as he came around to get the door for me, “Looks like midlife crisis finally hit you, Grant. Are all your convertibles out of commission now?”

I was already halfway out of the car when Mihir reached the door.

Grant flashed the same cocky smile as Mihir and mouthed something, which set the latter roaring with laughter.

“Good to see you, Grant,” Aunty said.

“Hi, Mrs. S. I knew Mir wouldn’t invite me, so I came over to wish Dr. S a happy birthday.” He strode to us, studying me in a quick flash before turning his attention to Mihir’s parents.

“You don’t need an invitation. This is your home,” Aunty said as she unlocked the door and led us in. “You know you’re my second favorite son.”

Both Grant and Mihir broke into uncharacteristically warm smiles.

“Yes, we know Mike’s your favorite because he’s a doctor, like Dad,” Mihir said.

“No, he’s my favorite because he’s quiet, kind, and thoughtful, like Arvind,” Aunty said to Mihir, which led the two younger men to laugh while Uncle tried hard not to look embarrassed.

“I still wonder how he’s tolerated the two of you for so long. Grant, this is Sona. She’s Tara’s friend, but she’s also our friend now, I hope,” Aunty said, directing a warm smile at me as Grant extended his hand. And that’s when I noticed his eyes. Dark blue oceans one could swim in.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Grant. I’ve heard all about you.”

“Hope not everything,” he said and winked at Mihir.

“Stop embarrassing her,” Aunty said pointedly, then turned to me. “Don’t mind them. They are mostly harmless.”

I followed Aunty as she led us all into the kitchen.

“What will you have, beta?” Her question was directed at Grant.

“Nothing, Mrs. S. Just came by to give Dr. S his birthday gift,” Grant said, producing a small, wrapped package from his leather jacket.

“Ah, thank you,” Uncle said. “I’m still enjoying the last gift you gave me. That is one good bottle of scotch.”

“I hope Mir hasn’t been sneaking from it. It’s for you and Mrs. S.”

“I don’t enjoy scotch. I’m a wine person, you know that,” Aunty said with a naughty smile.

“Hint taken. Next birthday, you’re getting your own exclusive bottle of wine, not to be shared with Dr. S or Mir.”

Aunty patted his arm and shared a heartfelt laughter.

“There he goes,” Mihir grumbled as he settled on a chair at the breakfast table. “Making me look bad again. What did you gift him this time that makes mine seem worthless in comparison?”

“Don’t be jealous because you can’t think of better gifts, Mir.” Grant shot him a crooked smile.

Just then, Uncle got a call, and he walked out of the kitchen.

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