Page 20 of The Princess and the Nerd

Chapter 11

Willow

"The curry is not spicy enough," says one of H.D.'s auntie's with disappointment. "It's weak. It's mild. No flavor. This is why you should leave the cooking to the women, Hardeep."

Looking at the expression on his face is more than a little satisfying. I try to resist a smile, as the haughty, arrogant food critic is taken down a few notches by his own family.

So, fun fact. H.D.’s real name isHardeep.As in hard and deep. I had to resist a giggle when his family started calling him that. I can see why he uses the initials instead.

But I can also imagine that he was teased a great deal for that, growing up. I can see why he was extra sensitive about the discrimination, and so hurt and offended by me ignoring him.

"I apologize, Aunty," Hardeep responds gracefully, "but before you all arrived, I checked with Mum for any health issues that I should be aware of. I was told to reduce sodium for the sake of your blood pressure, and to reduce pepper for Uncle's stomach ulcer. Both of you feeling well is more important to me than having the best tasting curry."

Aunty lowers her face to the food with guilt, well aware that she should be making these adjustments to her diet.

“I care about you both,” Hardeep says, “and would happily have you hate my cooking if it means you feel healthier."

"You're a good boy Hardeep," says Uncle. "It's very thoughtful that you cared to ask about our health before cooking for us."

"I try my best," Hardeep responds. "Now why don't you sample Willow's cooking? She made the garlic naan."

"This is incredible. It's the best naan I have ever tasted in my life. What did you do to it, young lady?"

"I just smothered it in butter and garlic, parsley and cilantro," I tell them proudly. Then I lean forward. "Actually, there's a secret ingredient. Can you tell what it is?"

They both taste the naan curiously, uncertain.

"She added cheese," Hardeep says with a laugh. "She decided to make a cross between naan and garlic bread. Totally disrespecting our culture."

"Improving our culture, if you ask me," Auntie says. "Especially since the cheese is salty, so it makes the weak tasting curry a bit more tolerable. Thank you, dear girl."

"So how long have you two been dating?" Hardeep's other Auntie asks. "You never mentioned Willow before."

“Not long enough,” Hardeep responds, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Too long, if you ask me,” I respond.

“Any talk of marriage?” asks Uncle. “What about babies?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s still too soon,” he tells them. “We actually haven’t been together long. We met when I wrote a bad review of her restaurant, and she came to find me and yell at me. I apologized, and she forgave me, and the rest is history.”

I glower at him, lowering my voice to a whisper and kicking him under the table. “When the hell did youeverapologize?”

He winks. “Maybe you weren’t listening carefully enough.”

“Hardeep,” I say angrily.

“Be patient,” he tells me softly.

When I kick him again, he catches my foot in his hand under the table. He slides my high heel off and begins to gently give me a foot massage. And oh God—that feels good. Suddenly, he’s a bit more tolerable.

“Willow, what would you like to know about Hardeep? Ask away, we’ll tell you everything,” Auntie says.

“I would like to know his deepest darkest secret,” I respond. “Something only his family would know.”

“Ah, we know everything. First of all, Hardeep pretends to be a fancy schmancy food blogger these days, but growing up, there was a phase when he lived on Pop Tarts. Truly. And the strangest thing? Henever toastedthem.”

“No,” I gasp in horror. “But they are called…toasterpastries!”

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