“Rob, Barb, how is it that neither of you seem to age? Tell me your secret, so I can bottle it and make us all rich,” he said, hugging each in turn. Barb actually giggled, and even Rob seemed thrilled to see him. Sameera didn’t remember him looking this happy to see his own son.
“You’re already rich, Andy,” Rob said, clearly delighted. Andy looked modest.
“Yet you’re the one with this killer view,” Andy said, looking around him with genuine admiration. Sameera felt a prickle on the back of her neck, what Nadiya would teasingly call her “lawyerly Spidey sense” hinting at something. “I’ve been all over the world, but you Cookes have something no amount of money can buy. My offer to take Cooke Place off your hands is still there, whenever you like—just name your price!”
What was he talking about? Sameera looked from Rob’s and Barb’s happy expressions to Tom’s, noticing his sudden frown. But before she could ask, they moved inside, Andy regaling them with stories of his flight, of his business trip to Hong Kong, and shamelessly name-dropping his friends, all of whom seemed to be celebrities or tech moguls, or both.
Tom lingered back, and Sameera seized the chance to lean close to him. “What did Andy mean, about Cooke Place?” she asked.
“Just a joke he makes every time he visits,” Tom said dismissively. “He offers to buy Cooke Place; my dad laughs. It’s a bit.”
Somehow, Sameera doubted Andy was joking. “Funny.”
Tom shook his head. “You don’t know him the way I do. Andy is brilliant, but he gets distracted easily. Unless something is right in front of him, he won’t think about it. Which is why he needs someone like you working for him.” The look he shot her now had no trace of humor or warmth. “You can pitch him on your firm soon, don’t worry. I know that’s the real reason you came to Alaska.”
Stung by his words, Sameera stared at Tom. Was he ... angry with her? After he had asked her to continue with their farce, after he had made her like him with his charming personality, clever hands, his jokes and flirting and kindness to her family? Confused, she followed him inside.
Esa had managed to put the television down in the sitting room without incident, and he and Cal were staring at the box and talking excitedly while Andy stared out the large floor-to-ceiling windows in the sitting room, peaked mountains in the distance.
“You’re a lucky man,” he said to Tom. “My childhood house looked over a busy intersection, and my bedroom had a great view of a dark alley.”
A reluctant smile curled Tom’s lips, and Sameera thought again of how handsome he was, his face a perfect combination of every feature she liked best. “I bet you like your view now. One for every season. How many houses do you own, again?”
“Four,” Andy said promptly. He turned around and grinned at his friend. “Or is it six? I can’t remember.”
Tom shoved Andy. “Idiot business bro.”
“Entitled diva chef,” Andy threw back. He clapped his hands together. “I’m hungry. Tom?”
Tom shook his head. “Nice try.”
Barb came forward. “Breakfast is ready in the kitchen. Help yourself, dear.”
Andy quirked a brow at Sameera. “Would you care to join me? I want to hear all about the woman who captured my best buddy’s heart. And I hear you have a question for me, too.” He disappeared inside the kitchen, leaving Sameera to look uneasily at Tom. He smiled at her in encouragement.
“Go ahead,” he urged.
“He doesn’t expect me to pitch him while he eats scrambled eggs, does he?” she asked in a low voice, trying to keep her panic at bay.
“He’s just hungry and looking for an audience while he eats. I’m sure he’ll listen to your fancy pitch later.” There was something about the way Tom described her pitch, as if it didn’t matter, that made her instantly defensive.
“Is something wrong?” she demanded. “You know how important talking to Andy is to me, Tom. My job depends on how he responds.”
Tom couldn’t look at her. “I know,” he said in a low voice. “Believe me, I’m well aware that talking to Andy is the only reason you’re here.”
He left her before she could respond. What was going on?
Andy had already made himself at home. He was seated at the kitchen island, within easy reach of the fluffy scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit that Barb had prepared that morning, and had already filled his plate.
“Do you want to warm that up?” she asked. Andy shook his head.
“Eating cold eggs reminds me of how far I’ve come in life,” he said. “To know I could warm them up, or make more, or fly an entire chicken coop here, or buy this entire town if I wanted.” He grinned to let her know he was joking, even though she suspected he wasn’t. She returned his smile, feeling uneasy. Tom’s strange comment had rattled her, and she forced herself to concentrate on the man before her.
Andy Shaikh was a good-looking man, and he knew it. From the half smile on his perfectly exfoliated face to his meticulously lined-up beard, expertly tousled hair, designer clothes, and custom sneakers, hisimage was clearly designed to impress. Now he ducked his head in a blatant show of fake modesty that made her eyes narrow in suspicion.
“Coffee?” she asked blandly, ignoring his previous comment.
“Tea, if you have it,” he returned easily, and she filled the kettle. Andy’s gaze was fixed on his food, but she wasn’t fooled. He was paying attention to her, too.
