My Best Friend's Brother (A Bashir Family Romance Book 1) (5 page)

I
almost couldn’t believe it: I was a senior in high school and almost on my own. In just a few weeks, I would be eighteen and an adult. And soon after, I would be getting ready for college—
if
I could afford it. I had been waiting for this my whole life, knowing my success would be entirely up to me, and I was ready for the challenge.

It had been three months since Dev left for school and I tried to not think what I said to him that night, but it haunted me. I couldn’t tell if he had been sincere or not, and I obsessively replayed our conversation a million times in my head trying to figure it out. When Mrs. Bashir mentioned that he would be coming home for Thanksgiving with a friend from school, I was relieved. Maybe someone else in the house would distract us both from the memory of that strange night in his room.

The Bashirs usually planned big Thanksgiving feasts, inviting several relatives and friends over. The whole house was filled with laughter, music and the exotic aroma Mrs. Bashir’s famous curried turkey. I wished my dad could come see me, but he was working in the shop that weekend. I was happy that he was really trying hard to make something of himself in Nevada, but I missed him. At least I had my “other family” to make me feel like I was a part of something.

At dinner one night, I learned something interesting: Dev’s friend was more of a strategic alliance than anything, and the whole family was focused on making a good impression.

“His father is Gerald Franklin, CEO of Franklin Bank,” Mr. Bashir explained, his voice noticeably solemn. “Dev is hoping to get an invitation to interview for a job after graduation.”

The expression on Mrs. Bashir’s face was tense and she seemed to flinch at the mention of the name. I sensed there was more to this story.

“How does Dev know him?” I asked.

Annika jumped in. “Dad used to work for him back in his Big Apple days, right dad?”

I noticed that Mrs. Bashir quickly left the room.

“Yes, I was a financial analyst at Franklin Bank,” he explained. “That’s where I met my beautiful wife.” His eyes were sparkling with love. He looked over to the kitchen to share a moment with her, but she was busy cleaning up.

“Oh? What did Mrs. Bashir do at the bank?” I asked, curious.

“She was Mr. Frankin’s executive assistant,” said Mr. Bashir, proudly. “But that was before I whisked her away to a better life in the hotel business.” He winked at me.

“Well, I’m sure Dev will get the job then.” I said, envious.

Must be nice to have connections with all the right people.

The morning of Thanksgiving, I awoke with a start from the most sensual dream of my short life, and it lingered in the air as my alarm screamed from my bedside table.

Him.

And me.

In bed.

Making love.

What the?

I slammed the snooze button and lay down, but there was no way I could fall asleep again. I replayed the dream in my head, trying to make sense of it.

Why did I dream about Dev?

There was no explanation. I felt as if my sub-conscious betrayed me and now laughed at my embarrassed and flushed face, like a massive joke has been played on me. I hadn’t even been properly kissed at this point of my life, and the first dream I had about making love with a man…features
Dev
in the starring role?

My god, he was so handsome…

STOP IT!
I commanded my mind. I needed to get out of this bed before I started to imagine what it would be like if he joined me in it…the two us tangled up in the warmth and softness of Mrs. Bashir’s pricey 800 thread-count cotton Pima sheets.

I jumped up and threw on some jeans and shirt, and ran my fingers through my long, golden curls. I could smell breakfast mingled with the scents of the Thanksgiving feast to come. My stomach grumbled as I headed downstairs for a quick bite.

Maybe I could help Mrs. Bashir make a few dishes. Staying locked in the kitchen sounded like a good plan, especially if I didn’t have to face Dev after that dream. What if he could see it on my face? Could he possibly know I dreamed of…
having sex
with him last night? Yes, I would stay in the kitchen all day if necessary rather than risk revealing my thoughts to him.

As I walked downstairs I could hear the dining room already filled with the usual voices. But two stood out: One was Dev’s and the other, someone I didn’t know.

Damnit! He and his rich friend are here already.

I decided to sneak into the kitchen, grab some cereal, and take it to the patio to eat alone. If anyone noticed, I’d tell them I needed some fresh air. But my plan fell apart when Annika met me at the foot of the stairs.

Why was she wearing a dress and high heels? How odd.

“Scarlett, come meet Rhett! Oh my gosh, isn’t that funny, his name is actually
Rhett
?”

She tugged on my arm toward the dining room. Was this some sick joke?

“He is freakin’ hot…wait ‘til you see.”

The entire family was eating breakfast around the table in the Bashir’s massive formal dining room. When Annika and I walked in, Dev and a blonde man, about his same age, stood up.

The rich banker’s son.

This “Rhett” was as Annika promised: handsome—hot in a Calvin Klein underwear ad kind of way—and weary a cute, cocky grin to match. In fact, he would have been my type…had I not had that stupid dream. I quickly glanced at Dev. He looked especially attractive in a light grey sweater and black slacks. I felt my cheeks burn.

Could he tell?

Rhett extended his hand.

“I heard there was a Scarlett in the house. I’m Rhett. Now we just need to find ourselves an Ashley Wilkes and we’ll have ourselves a proper love triangle.”

Charming, too. No wonder Annika was wearing false eye lashes at eight in the morning.

“But then we’ll need a Melanie and a Belle to make it a fair fight,” I retorted. Everyone laughed. That is, everyone but Dev. I avoided his pinched face.

We sat down and Mrs. Bashir passed me a platter of eggs. Rhett was smiling at me in a way that almost made me blush.

“Obviously you’ve read the book,” he inquired.

“I was named after the heroine, so it’s obligatory that I read the book. It’s a favorite, actually.”

Annika watched us carefully.

“How long are you going to stay, Rhett?” She asked, flirtatiously flipping her long, dark tresses away from her face.

Dev cleared his voice and jumped in.

“We’re flying back on Saturday. Rhett’s parents are in Greece, so I invited him to spend the holiday with us in Texas.”

“Have you been to Texas before?” I asked Rhett. Having grown up here and not traveled yet, I always wondered what people thought of my home state.

He stared into my eyes in a way that seemed a bit too direct.

“This is my first trip. From what I can see…it’s absolutely gorgeous.” He smiled broadly at me, his white teeth gleaming, his light blue eyes catching the morning light through the window. I decided to pretend his remark wasn’t a poorly veiled attempt at flirting in front of the entire Bashir family. I looked away and took a sip of orange juice.

Annika decided to make her move.

“You should see Berry Creek. It’s just a short walk from here…oh, and it’s fed from an underground aquifer. The water is really clear—we swim in it all the time,” she offered enthusiastically.

Geez, Annika, giving him the hard-sell. It’s like you’ve never seen a boy before…

“That sounds like fun,” Rhett said, politely, obviously not taking the bait.

“We’re studying for an exam, Annika,” said Dev, looking disapproving in that way I was used to. Annika’s smile faded.

I could feel Rhett’s gaze on me again. I looked over and Dev’s deprecating expression was now aimed at me, so I kept my eyes on his friend.

“I’m sure we’ll have time for a little fun,” said Rhett, burning a hole through me with his seductive stare and flashing a grin that would make any girl weak in the knees.

Within the course of a few hours the house was filled with people laughing and eating, men yelling at the football game on TV, and children running around with sticky sweets and noisy toys. If you couldn’t smell the curries and see the colorful chutneys, you would think it was a typical American Thanksgiving.

I tried very hard to stay in the kitchen and help with the food, but Mrs. Bashir had it covered with her visiting cousins. There I was in the middle of several middle aged Indian women speaking Hindi and laughing at inside jokes while chopping, stirring and cleaning. So when she told me for the tenth time to “go out and enjoy” myself, I did.

I meandered to the nearest family room where several men were watching a soccer game and cheering. I leaned against the wall and spied from a distance, having decided to stick to the sidelines. I noticed Dev in the opposite corner talking with Shyra, a pretty Indian girl, about his age. I had met her once before when the Bashirs had her family over for dinner. She was studying law at an Ivy League school near New York, so I was sure they saw each other there. Dev seemed to enjoy talking to her—as much as someone like him could. She was smiling boldly at him with admiration, and perhaps a little crush.

Good luck, honey.

When I felt a nudge in my arm, I jumped.

“You like soccer?” Rhett asked, smiling that amazing smile.

“Oh, hi. You scared me.” I smiled back. His grin was infectious.

“I have that effect on women.”

“I doubt it.”

Rhett moved in a little closer. I could feel the intimacy of the shrinking space between us.

“How do you like living here…with the Bashirs?” he asked, seemingly eager to make conversation with me.

“They’re a great family. I’m just staying here until I graduate.” I took a sip of mulled cider. “What are you studying at school?”

“Finance. Boring stuff. I don’t like to talk about it. I’d rather talk about you.” He leaned against the wall.

Wow, he’s really coming onto me.

“Okay, but I warn you, I’m equally boring.” I winked at him.

Wait—did I just wink at him
? My inner flirt was showing herself.

“Let me be the judge of that.” He winked back.

Okay, game on.

We chatted for almost an hour outside on the patio. I told him about my dreams of being a writer, traveling the world, and how I missed my dad; and he told me about growing up in New York, spending the summers in the Hamptons, and how he dreaded working for his father’s bank.

“So if you don’t want to work in banking, why not do something else?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It’s complicated family stuff. I have a lot of pressure to follow in some pretty old footsteps. So I accept my fate and just look for various ways to release said pressure.”

“And what ways are those?” I almost regretted asking. I had just turned 18 and I was way out of my league with this guy.

He leaned in a little closer. “Well, I feel pretty relaxed right now, here with you. You’re very beautiful, Miss Scarlett,” he drawled, imitating a proper Southern suitor.

I looked down, blushing. My mind blanked out. No one had ever hit on me so aggressively. A part of me was enjoying it.

He broke the silence a moment later.

“You know, I would really like to see that creek…Berry Creek, right?” He asked casually.

“It’s just a short walk from here. I could show you after dinner if you want,” I offered, thinking it would be fun to spend time with someone who made me feel beautiful.

Rhett flashed his movie-star smile.

“It’s a date.”

After dinner, Annika pulled me aside. She had been busy for most of the day in charge of entertaining her younger cousins, so we hadn’t spoken much.

“I think I’m in love,” she exclaimed to me.

“With…?”

“Rhett! Isn’t he gorgeous?” She looked to me for confirmation that yes, he was indeed a god.

“He’s handsome. In a slightly clichéd way,” I toyed with her.

She scowled at me and then sighed in defeat. “Scarlett, I wish I could date him. But…whatever.”

“Who says you can’t?” At some point she would be an adult. Would her parents really forbid her from dating outside her religion and culture?

“I just can’t. None of us can. You wouldn’t understand.”

I put my arm around her and squeezed. “Don’t worry about it. Nothing can stop “tu wuv.” Didn’t you see The Princess Bride?” I smiled.

A little girl, about five-years-old, ran up to Annika and tugged at her dress.

She sighed in defeat.

“I have to go. The girls want to play Barbies.”

After Annika left, I wondered if I was stepping on her toes by leaving with Rhett and thought I should cancel, but then I changed my mind when I glanced at Dev from across the room giving me his usual disapproving look I knew so well. I wanted him to see that I was desirable by someone as amazing as Rhett, so I decided to keep our date. We had made plans to walk to the creek at seven. I glanced at the clock on the wall…6:45. I decided to go freshen up in my room and put on some better walking shoes.

I was putting on lip gloss in my bedroom mirror when I heard a decisive knock.  Behind my door stood a serious-looking Dev.

Great.

“Scarlett…may I talk to you?”

It felt odd to see him standing at my bedroom door…so close to where I dreamed of him. My stomach started to quiver.

“Okay.”

He didn’t move from the doorway.

“Rhett told me you’re going out with him later.”

“He wanted to see Berry Creek. I was just going to walk over with him.”

He got straight to the point.

“I have to respectfully ask you to not go with him.”

I was confused.

“Why not?”

He shuffled his feet, obviously feeling uncomfortable.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

I figured it out. I clenched my hands in rage.

“Oh, I understand. He’s the son of a powerful banker who might give you a job. You don’t want him to hang around people like me and make a bad impression.”

His face fell. A tense moment hung between us.

“I never meant that,” he uttered, weakly.

“Well, the last time I checked, I don’t belong to you. You can’t tell me what to do,” I barked.

And then, like a cherry on top, I slammed the door in his tortured face.

It felt good…and horrible…and confusing.