If You're Not The One

by Laura Briggs

Genres: Women's Fiction; Romance; Clean & Wholesome Romance; Contemporary Romance; Holiday Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

‘What can I say, I was hooked… So many emotions… it really was a delight to read.’ Chells and Books, 5 stars A heartwarming, escapist romantic novel for fans of Elin Hilderbrand, Nora Roberts and Nancy Thayer. Natalie isn’t a romantic. She doesn’t believe in true love, or destiny. She thinks that people are just plain lucky if they happen to find someone. It’s coincidence and nothing more. As a wedding dress designer though, she knows she has to keep these feelings under wraps. Even if she’s suspicious that Harper, the bride she’s working with, might secretly agree with her. Because if Harper admitted she wasn’t sure about love, it might also mean giving up on a millionaire husband-to-be and the lavish island wedding of her dreams. But, for Natalie, as her feelings develop for both her on-off boyfriend Chad, and for the boy-next-door Brayden, she starts to fear that her heart might not be as immune to love as she claims… Could love have been there all along? And as the wedding approaches, who will find a happy-ever-after, who will find their way to themselves, and who will get left behind? Readers love If You’re Not The One ‘ What a feel-good yummy read!... This novel is a bubble of happiness, joy, love and friendship… It left me sighing with bliss… Won my heart and made it melt! ’ Chocolate’n’Waffles, 5 stars ‘ This novel just blew me away with the authors quick wit and humorous writing style…. Get some coffee and curl up with this break out hit. I just know you'll love it as much as I did.’ Bookish Lifestyle, 5 stars ‘A fun fabulous book all about friendship and love!... A delightful story that will put a smile on your face and some warmth in your heart! Absolutely recommend! Audio Killed the Bookmark ‘ A great easy read which I lost myself in. ’ Sarah’s Book Reviews ‘An ideal read for romantics everywhere and what a perfect story.’ The Writing Garnet ‘ If You’re Not the One has it all: romance, friendships and a gorgeous heartwarming quality! ’ Rae Reads ‘A sweet romantic book.’ Goodreads Reviewer, 5 stars ‘ Very romantic yet entertaining. I was hoping to read something uplifting and this was it… If you love romance then this is the ideal book for you. ’ Orchard Book Club ‘Indulge for a couple of hours and get lost in the story… This book has a lot of love and a big heart.’ Zooloo’s Book Diary ‘ If You're Not the One shows friendships like never before and relationships that matter.’ Goodreads reviewer ‘ A lovely romantic story where true love conquers all… Very enjoyable and entertaining.’ B for Bookreview ‘ A cute feel-good read with lots of fun interesting characters that have you rooting for them. A perfect read when all you want is a bit of escapism.’ Goodreads reviewer, Readers adore Laura Briggs: ‘ Everything I wanted it to be and then some more. I absolutely loved this gorgeous story, straight from the beginning I was hooked on the characters and the storyline…. a wonderful, sweet, feel-good read… Get whisked away by Laura to the charming town and enjoy your stay there.’ Katie’s Book Cave, 5 stars ‘ A gorgeous, comforting, cosy read.’ Waggy Tales ‘A wonderful sense of humour which shines through… a joy to read… I felt completely immersed… the perfect novel to read curled up on the sofa.’ Portable Magic ‘ You know when you near the end of a story and wish it could carry on, well this is exactly what I was feeling when I was reading those last few chapters… Beautiful, sweet and romantic! ’ Rae Reads, 5 stars

Release date: February 6, 2019

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 450

Sample

Natalie’s cell phone, a clunky older model left over from her high-school years, rang persistently, but she ignored it. Her open textbook on American history partly covered the stupid phone as it buzzed to life every few seconds.

She was definitely moving on from her past. Fashion shows, Manhattan design houses, and Milan runways awaited her if she was dedicated and kept her nose to the grindstone—childhood was over, and so were summer vacations working at Icing Italia and relationships with stupid high-school boys who cared more about hot rod cars and hot models than they did girls with talent and brains. And no more enduring the crush a certain someone had on her, which had been hanging over her since second grade.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” her friend Tessa asked, lying sprawled across her dorm-room bed beneath a poster of a very chiseled-looking Russell Crowe. In her hands, an issue of Bridal Today, through which she searched for material for her composition essay on new trends in the event-planning world.

“No.” Natalie’s answer was curt.

“Why not? It’s been ringing for ten minutes, Nat. It’s probably your mom. Maybe she tried to call your room and found out you weren’t there.”

“It’s not Ma,” said Natalie. “She knows I’ll call if something’s up—besides, my annoying roommate probably told her that I was visiting a friend’s room.”

“Maybe it’s your brother. Don’t you have a brother—Bob?”

“Rob. And it’s not him, it’s…” She hesitated. “It’s this guy who’s friends with him. He’s just weird, and he’s probably trying to call to see if I’m okay.”

“You have his number in your phone?”

“Just so I know it’s him to avoid the call.” Natalie glanced over her shoulder. “He won’t take no for an answer. But I told him that I would be way too busy to talk after I left for college.”

“Is he cute?” asked Tessa, whose definition of this wasn’t exactly broad but made allowances for every boy with a cute smile and a good sense of humor. Natalie could answer this one safely.

“No,” she said.

“But he has a crush on you?” Tessa abandoned her magazine and rolled over on the bed, crawling closer to Natalie’s seat at the desk. “Oh my gosh, he does. You have a high-school sweetheart. Is it anybody I know?” Although they had grown up in the same city of Bellegrove, Tessa and Natalie’s high-school years had been spent in separate schools. Childhood bonding over plastic teacups and imaginary friends might have faded, but Natalie had been grateful to find at least one familiar face in the newness of college life, especially in the same dormitory.

“You don’t know him,” said Natalie. “He’s just a nerd named Brayden who has been hounding me for years to go out with him. He wanted to go to the prom with me, and I barely escaped that experience.” She shuddered. Memories of prom were less than magical anyway, now that she was free of the high-school scene, and she couldn’t imagine how terrible they would be if she had actually been forced to dance with Brayden that evening.

“Wait—wasn’t there a boy down the street from you named Brayden?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be clipping articles for your paper?” asked Natalie.

“I want to hear the story about your prom first,” said Tessa. “Was it better than mine? I went with a group of girls who hadn’t been asked out either, and the football team threw a frozen football right into the punch bowl while we were standing in the drinks line. It ruined my dress, and I was going to wear it to a formal here before I got rid of it for good.”

“I’ll make you a better one,” said Natalie, who would rather talk dresses than review her prom night.

“So what did this Brayden guy do that nearly roped you into prom with him?”

Natalie rolled her eyes. “Everything,” she said. “He begged, he sent me a card, he wheedled information out of my mom that I didn’t have a date already, then he showed up with flowers at school to formally ask me… I found out later that he’d planned all this stuff behind my back, like nobody was going to ask me instead.”

“Somebody did, obviously?”

“Of course.” So it was at the last minute, and a member of the track team who had only recently broken up with his cheerleader girlfriend. It had still been a better evening than the one Brayden had pictured for them. One which she would have resorted to only if she had become too desperate to live.

“Will you two please be quiet so I can study?” Penny, Tessa’s roommate and a girl Natalie vaguely remembered as an unpleasant third grader with Marcia Brady’s hair, lifted her headphones off and gave them each an annoyed glance. “Some of us have a future to think of, all right? I’m an honor student, hello?” She turned the page in a book on the history of diplomacy, crossing her ankles behind her as she lay across the dorm room’s second bed.

Natalie and Tessa exchanged looks. “You ever think maybe our brains are faster than yours, since we can process social exchanges and academic information at the same time?” said Natalie to her friend’s roommate.

“Coming from one of the girls whose homework includes reading Cosmo weekly?” Penny shot back.

“Hey, I needed a lighthearted current event. It was my first day in that required Health and Wholeness 101 class,” said Natalie.

With a smirk, Penny popped her headphones in place again.

“I wish I had known you were coming here,” said Tessa, more quietly than before. “We could have shared a room.”

“Me too,” said Natalie. “Maybe in the future, right?” She turned the page in her book, and the phone beneath its cover began ringing again. She buried it under one of Tessa’s issues of Perfect Planning.

She could ignore the ringing phone, but she knew Brayden would never just stop at trying to call her.

A few weeks later he appeared in the flesh in her dormitory’s television lounge wearing an ironed button-down, and having made an attempt to comb his lank, reddish-brown mane. He rose from the chair by the window, that semi-geeky smile on his face and a dessert carrier in his hands as he moved to greet her.

“Brayden,” she said, trying not to sigh. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, his smile falling into place. “I happened to be in the neighborhood,” he said. “Thought I’d stop by and make sure you’re settling in okay.”

Natalie didn’t believe it for a second. This was just like Brayden to show up at her new school and make some big scene as if they were friends or childhood sweethearts. Didn’t he know that girls liked a bit of mystery in guys? A little subtlety goes a long way, she thought wryly. Try playing hard to get for a while.

“My mom sent these, by the way,” he added, holding out the dessert carrier. “Cupcakes, a half-dozen or so. They’re cherry chip cream cheese. Your favorite.”

Brayden knew all her favorite foods, probably. He’d memorized everything about her over the last decade of her life, it seemed. A stalker could take tips from Brayden. For all she knew, he kept a shrine to her in his bedroom closet with Polaroids of all their times on the playground and school events where Brayden always managed to edge his way into her social sphere before the evening was over. The thought exasperated her.

Still… he looked so hopeful standing there in another effort to win her approval. She knew deep down that he wasn’t a bad guy—in fact, he was more like the ultimate nice guy. The kind who would help her move her dorm fridge without a grunt of complaint, or drive cross-country to give her a ride home for the holidays. Brayden might have even been the friend she relied on for those things, if he wasn’t so intent on pursuing her romantically. Really, really intent.

Natalie caved, accepting the dessert container with a half-smile. “Thanks, Brayden,” she told him. “These look good. I’ve kind of been missing home-cooking since I got here. The food here is… well, let’s just say it makes our high-school cafeteria seem like gourmet and makes me wish Uncle Guido’s pasta dishes could survive the ride in traffic over here.”

Most of Natalie’s family worked in the food industry. Her uncle ran an Italian restaurant, her mom a bakery, and her cousins worked kitchens and waited tables in restaurants across the whole of Bellegrove, the southern city with small-town heart. Cozy enough with its historic buildings, but with a fashion house or two among its local artisans. Maybe she would work for one of them someday, she imagined.

“You should come home for dinner more often,” Brayden suggested. She knew he was hoping he’d be there too, sitting across from her at the big table in her mom’s dining room. Since he pretty much had a standing invitation to dinner at the Grenaldi household, Natalie knew that he probably would be.

“Not with my homework load,” she said, trying to brush him off with what sounded like a joke, albeit a flat one. “Maybe after I get settled.” She hesitated to shoot him down completely, in the face of that age-old disappointment in Brayden’s green eyes for the distance between them. She had a heart, despite her brother Rob’s repeated assertion she must have been born without one. Even tough-as-nails Natalie could weaken a little beneath the hurt that Brayden tried to mask.

Until she spotted a group of fashionably chic girls from her Fabric 101 class on the other side of the dorm building’s glass, that was. They were watching her and Brayden, whispering to each other as they passed by. Probably saying, Isn’t Natalie’s boyfriend such a nerd? What a loser she must be ending up with someone like him. Or, Can you believe a fashion major would date someone with such awful taste in clothes? She must’ve been reaaally desperate back in pokey old Bellview, or wherever it is she lived.

She couldn’t take their stares, or the snicker one of them wasn’t bothering to disguise. Hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder, Natalie cast a lukewarm smile of farewell toward Brayden. “Gotta run now—lots to do before my next class. Say thanks to your mom for the cupcakes, okay?”

She didn’t have to turn back as she beat a retreat to know the look on his face. She knew it was there even as she climbed the stairs to her dorm room, her own face burning with shame. If only he would get the message so she wouldn’t have to feel so bad about turning him down over and over, and putting up barriers between herself and a friendship that had probably peaked when she was eight.

Wouldn’t Brayden ever give up on liking her?

Natalie’s suede boots clipped down the sidewalk in Bellegrove at a steady pace, avoiding the wet patches left over from the New Year’s snow flurry. One hand clutched the funky tote bag sewn from scraps of her favorite fabrics while the other held a peach and praline bagel fresh from her mom’s bakery. Breakfast on the run, since Natalie’s steps were taking her to the historic heart of the city and the business she ran with her old pal Tessa and her much newer but equally loved friend Ama.

Wedding Belles. That was the name Tessa had chosen for the bridal agency they’d opened together last summer, housed in a century-old brick-and-sandstone building with lots of wear—or “character,” as Tessa chose to think of it. Natalie was seamstress and fashion consultant to the brides, Ama oversaw the cake and food prep, and Tessa pulled together all the little details that made a ceremony special for each new client.

Together they had already planned more events than Natalie ever dreamed would come their way, and for the first time since picking up a needle and thread, she had gotten to see her creations appreciated by someone besides herself and her immediate circle. It still amazed Natalie to see a client’s face light up whenever they wore something she had sewn. Be it the bride herself or the four-year-old flower girl, Natalie had designs for all ages and sizes. Passion for fashion ruled Natalie, and her talent lay in finding just the right fabric and style for each one.

True, it wasn’t the glamorous career she set her sights on back in college. Life had taken some detours since then, with Natalie helping out at her family’s business and deciding to pursue graduate studies in fashion and design. Wedding Belles was yet another unexpected path, but not an unwelcome one thankfully.

And the new year already held an even brighter possibility for showcasing her ideas: the Magnolia Fashion Revue.

The Magnolia Revue was a big deal in Bellegrove for anyone who worked in fashion, and thanks to her experience at Wedding Belles, Natalie finally had the confidence to enter it. Even though it was still months away, her work for the show had already begun, which was why her phone chirped with a message from Cal, her friend and former co-worker at a local fashion house that had been more like a dungeon of horrors until Tessa had offered her an escape.

Meeting at 10!!

Cal’s text held dramatic urgency, as usual.

A little drama never hurt when it came to your dreams, in Natalie’s opinion, especially since her dreams were on track, as far as Natalie was concerned. At least when it came to fashion—everything else was still up in the air, including her feelings about romance. A certain handsome rock climber named Chad showed every sign of being “the one” according to Natalie’s nearest and dearest, although Natalie herself believed that concept belonged with other myths like the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. She didn’t buy into the intensely romantic concepts of soul mates and happily ever after, even if her fingers spent most of their time creating dresses for those who did. That’s just the way it had always been for her, even back in the days when a boy with a crooked, homely smile had offered his heart—and a plate of cupcakes—in the desperate hope of changing her mind about those ideas.

A step up from the dandelions he’d offered her in second grade, true. But even a dozen red roses wouldn’t sway her heart when it came to Brayden Carmichael. The fact he was still trying to get her attention after all these years—almost as frequently as his package delivery truck stopped at her family’s bakery—just proved that hopeless romantics were always destined for heartache.

But the less said on that subject the better, as far as Natalie was concerned.

“So, what have we got so far?” Natalie set her coffee cup on the table and took her seat in the old leather office chair behind it. “Are the alterations finished on that lace tunic top or should I take it home with me tonight?”

“I finished them last night,” said Cal, who laid the portfolio on the worktable beside the light-as-air summer garment, its sheer panels made to serve as an overlay to a solid camisole top.

Cal’s plans to rent a cool loft for working on their runway project had disintegrated due to lack of funds, so, for now, they were working out of Natalie’s Wedding Belles office. It had plenty of space and added an interesting element to both sides, Natalie had to admit, seeing fake tiered cakes, vintage-inspired businesswear, and books of floral arrangements jockeying for shelf room amidst volumes on the history of fabric. On the other hand, it also meant that wedding business and fashion business tended to mix with each other in ways that were sometimes a little distracting.

“What about the pinstriped suit?” she asked, glancing at the portfolio. “Was it you or Nella working on that one?” Nella was the cheery intern and aspiring designer helping Cal and Natalie compile the line of summer garments. She was also late for this meeting, which wasn’t too unusual, since she was coming from classes at the university all the way across town.

“It was Nella,” said Cal, “so you’ll have to ask her about it when she gets here. Which is… now,” he added, at the sound of high heels furiously scaling the metal spiral staircase in the Wedding Belles’ lobby.

“Sorry I’m late,” called an upbeat southern accent from the doorway. Nella hurried inside, her bouncy blonde waterfall of curls trying to escape her scarf headband. “Did I miss anything?” she asked, glancing around eagerly.

“Nat was just asking how close you were to finishing the pinstriped suit,” said Cal.

“Oh, it’s finished all right, except for the jacket’s buttons ’cause I forgot to bring them home,” said Nella, who pulled out the dark navy trousers and matching jacket to add to the table’s half-finished garments.

“We need to let out the waistline in that eyelet skirt with the ribbon-trimmed beltline,” commented Natalie, who was searching for her seam ripper underneath a copy of Weddings Today. “Remember, curves are our thing—we want to flatter anybody and everybody’s shape, not squish it. Cal, you did a great job on that tunic, by the way, so no more changes there, obviously.”

“Thank you,” he answered, with a little bow. “A friend of mine is already dying to buy it. She says she can’t find anything that fits her at the local boutique except for some shapeless muumuu fashions.”

“Our first customer already!” Nella clapped her hands. “This is so exciting! Oops, I forget—let the skirt out. Right.” She seized the garment from the table and went digging in her corner of Natalie’s studio for supplies, on a shelf that Nella had decorated with glittery cat stickers.

Ama poked her head inside the office doorway. “Coffee, anybody?” she asked, cheerily. “I’m making a midday snack run to the Java and Julip down the street if anybody wants anything.” The Indian-American baker’s short dark hair was pinned back with a barrette, a festive winter scarf tucked inside her coat collar. Her green skirt was decorated with fancy beadwork that was part of her mother’s cultural tradition, although Ama had shortened it from the ankle-length style to a trendier knee-length.

“Can you grab me one of their mocha cream delights?” Nella dug through her bag for a few dollars, accidentally knocking a ream of beaded fabric and a stack of nuptial invitation samples to the floor, where they mixed with some scraps of fabric and thread snips.

“Can do,” answered Ama. She glanced at the dresses. “Nat, is that the new line?” she asked. “It looks amazing.”

“Thanks,” said Natalie. “That’s exactly the kind of compliment we need. Of course, hearing it from the fashion judges would be better, but after working our fingers to the bone, we don’t care who says it, so long as they’re human.”

“Not having your full dose of morning coffee makes you extra bitter,” joked Cal, poking her in the shoulder.

“Yeah, it does. Ama, can you get me something strong with a little vanilla in it? Anything’s fine, really.” She handed her business partner a few dollars, too. “Just to take the edge off my witty personality?”

“Sure,” laughed Ama. “So are you guys going to give us a little fashion show preview?”

“Yes,” declared Nella at the same time Cal and Natalie answered, “Maybe.” Natalie’s eye was on the unfinished hems and problematic layers in the skirt she was altering. Could they be ready in time, even with weeks of work behind them? Summer would come faster than any of them imagined.

“Two coffees coming up,” Ama called as she descended the stairs, leaving Natalie alone with her crew.

“So… how’s things with the guy?” Cal asked as he refolded the blouse. “I notice there’s no more fake ring being worn around the office.”

He asked questions carefully about Natalie’s long-term boyfriend. Hunky Chad had defied the odds this winter by becoming Natalie’s longest-running relationship to date. Jokes had long circulated about Natalie being hard to catch—a non-romantic who dated for fun and not forever, as per her philosophy. But she and Chad had impulsively shared a pact before Christmas to make each other’s families happy by appearing as a steady couple—right down to the “fake” engagement ring Natalie sported on her finger as a joke a few times—but that temporary relationship still had steam at the beginning of the new year, against the usual odds.

“The ring is staying in the drawer from now on,” said Natalie. “I think that joke went a little too far, since my cousins were practically Instagramming my impending nuptials. But Chad’s fine.” She shrugged. “He’s great, as always. We’re just taking things easy. And now that nobody is nagging either of us about finding the right one, we can take it easier around our families, which is way more relaxing.”

“And honest,” Cal pointed out. “I think your mom was ready for a church wedding by Easter.”

“Does your mom like him?” asked Nella, perhaps wondering if there was any truth to Cal’s joke.

“In moderation,” answered Natalie. Nella’s face fell. “No, she likes him fine. She’d like anybody I dated for more than five minutes who might at least try to persuade me to marry them someday.”

“I’ll bet your brother thinks he’s cool.”

“Rob has weird taste.” Natalie stuck out her tongue. “But I’ve heard him say worse about my dates.”

“I’ve never heard your friends say better things, though,” said Cal, as he searched for the fabric shears in Natalie’s desk drawer. “I think this guy has done the impossible: won you over and won over everybody in your crowd.”

Seeing each other a few nights a week and on weekends, they were drifting routinely into each other’s social lives. While that made him sound more like a habit than the love of her life, that was fine with her because she didn’t believe there was such a thing as true love. As for what she did believe in, Chad checked those boxes nicely. The fact that she didn’t feel happy was totally her fault, as far as she knew.

Maybe this was how it worked, Natalie thought. You fall into a casual rhythm, then you tie the knot and it doesn’t feel any different from before. Maybe that could be her and Chad’s destiny after all.

“You guys are so cute together,” said Nella, who thought everything about Chad was cute, as far as Natalie could tell. It was the hunky muscles and confident chin.

“Nobody has called me cute since I had Band-Aids on both knees,” said Natalie, with a snort.

“Oh—speaking of cute—you will not believe what I dreamed up last night,” said Nella, leaping from one topic to the next. “It is so gorgeous I just went lickety-split straight to its creation and didn’t even bother with a sketch.” She’d dropped her shoulder bag to the floor and was busy untangling a huge pile of fabric from within it.

“Let’s see it.” Unlike Natalie and Cal’s former boss, Kandace, she believed in encouraging input and creativity from budding designers, especially those who weren’t consumed snottily by their own talent. She remembered what it was like to have no one care about her individual thoughts: Kandace had never cared what any of her junior designers thought about fashion, and had never taken so much as the meekest, tiniest hint from a much-restrained Natalie about possible improvements to the clothes she sold.

“Be honest,” Nella said, albeit with mollified courage for these words. “Tell me if it’s totally awful.”

Out came the evident pride and joy of Nella’s creativity: a dress sewn from light ivory paper taffeta in multiple layers, a sleeveless, strapless bodice, and a spread skirt in a series of wide panels which were lifted and frozen upwards slightly along their edges, like the hemline’s bell was curling both inwards and outwards delicately in turn. It took Natalie a moment to realize the effect: that of an upside-down flower, its petals not quite open to a saucer’s shape.

“I call it ‘Sweetbay,’” said Nella, proudly. “After the magnolia blossom. What do you think?”

“It’s like… Marilyn Monroe’s Seven Year Itch got hitched to a gardenia,” said Cal. “I think I love it.”

“I think it’s fantastic,” said Natalie. “Sew a label inside it, make a sketch and sign it—I think it should be part of the line for the show.”

Nella’s eyes widened “You want it in the show?” she squealed “Seriously? It’s, like, that good?”

“We’re only offering the best, right?” said Natalie. “You’re a designer for this house, right? Then do it. Come on, chop-chop—we only have until summer before showtime, and every second counts. Let’s get busy before we all go back to our real jobs.”

She lifted the suit and reached for her sewing basket and a set of antique red porcelain buttons from New Orleans. Grenaldi’s Couture’s public debut was on the line, and she planned to give it her very best.

Ama hummed along with the song on her laptop as she packed decorative cookie tins into postal boxes. These were the latest round of specialty orders through her baking website Sweetheart Treats. A side business of sorts, it had been her only way to fully explore her culinary passions before last summer had landed her the job of chief baker at Wedding Belles.

Of course, not helping out at her family’s restaurant wasn’t really an option, so Ama had three jobs these days. But since all three involved her most favorite thing in the world, it didn’t seem to make her feel too overwhelmed.

She swept some receipts into a folder, her fingers brushing against an open gift box in front of the mirror. Her lips formed a smile as she lifted the item inside it: an adorable cookie cutter in the shape of an elaborate crouching tiger, one of a set of five artistic cookie cutters based on antique woodcut illustrations of Asian animals. A gift from Luke, her unexpected crush-turned-boyfriend, just in time for the holidays.

She hadn’t expected him to get her anything, not really. After all, they had only started dating a couple of weeks before the holidays. It seemed like a good omen, this gesture on his part, although he was full of moments of touching, impulsive gestures from the very beginning of their relationship. Dating someone like that was too good to be true, just like in the sappy Hollywood romances she loved.

Secretly dating, she reminded herself. She sighed a little bit inside as she wrapped a bow around one of the cookie tins and pictured breaking the news to her family that she was involved with someone who bore all the hallmarks of a classic bad boy: motorcycle and leather jacket, just to name a few.

The list could go on, but Ama knew even the first two would be enough for her traditionally minded Punjabi father to rule him out as a possible match for her. And her auntie Bendi, too, who wanted a boy in a suit, a tie, and a suitable white-collar career. The very fact he didn’t share their culture or background was enough to keep the oldest members of her family from even considering him in the first place. Despite thirty-something years of American citizenship, Ama’s parents, especially her father, were still very much in tune with the old way of doing things, it seemed.

If her father could only look past the stereotypes, maybe he would see the Luke that she already knew. Someone who was kind and sensitive and cared about Ama in ways she had only dreamed about in the past.

Her sister Rasha and her two brothers would understand. And her sister-in-law, Deena, had practically pushed her into Luke’s arms that first day they encountered him among the stalls at Bellegrove’s food market. She would be over the moon if she knew they had officially become a couple. But Ama still cringed for the memory of her parents’ first encounter with Luke, for their barely concealed looks of confusion and worry that December afternoon he had dropped by the restaurant. Afterward, she heard her family arguing about her possible connection to this stranger, one her father obviously viewed with suspicion.

Of course, in the weeks before she had met Luke, her father had his heart set on making a match between Ama and a very eligible young Indian businessman named Tamir. Someone perfectly successful and polite—and perfectly dull in Ama’s book. All the spark and color that was missing from her relationship with Tamir became present almost instantly when she met Luke. Not just because of his swoon-worthy looks, either (although she couldn’t help going a little weak in the knees for that muscular physique and unruly dark hair at times).

No amount of good looks would earn Luke points with Ama’s parents, however. So it would have to be his infectious smile and heart of gold that won them over, right? If they gave him a chance, things could be different. They could be happy for her—even if her happily ever after wasn’t exactly the one they envisioned for her.

This had better be true, because no matter what they thought, she was going to tell her family about her and Luke tonight. It was her one and only New Year’s resolution, to tell the complete truth about the boy she’d been secretly seeing since before Christmas, and as the clock in the hall chimed the dinner hour and the beginning of another evening in the family kitchen, Ama forced herself to stay committed to this plan.

What’s the worst they can do? They won’t disown you, will they? So Papa growls and mutters for a few weeks… and gives you those injured little glances whenever your boyfriend’s name comes up… and shuts down any talk about you and Luke being in love by abruptly changing the subject…

Just remind him that he liked motorbikes when he was younger, too. Right?

Okay, so it could make lif