Free What a Girl Wants by Kristin Billerbeck Page A

position for someone you’ve never met? It’s strange. But my brother’s getting married. Surely Roswell folklore has nothing on my life.
    “She’s such a sweet girl. I think you’ll really hit it off. She reminds me of that little gal you work for, just a bit.”
    “Purvi?”
    “Purvi, that’s right. Of course she’s Indian and Mei Ling is Chinese, but they’re both small and . . . what’s the word?”
    “Asian?”
    My mom laughs. “No, dear, not Asian. They’re both . . . Oriental.”
    I bang my head on the table. Indian may be technically Asian, but overly-educated, self-sufficient Purvi Sharma and Mei Ling probably have about as much in common as Pamela Anderson and myself.
    “Mom, Oriental is kind of considered rude nowadays.” As if living in the Asian rim of California amid a myriad of specialty grocery stores would not tell her that.
    “Mei Ling doesn’t mind. You’ve been in that politically-correct business world too long. It’s starting to color your speech. Honestly, Ashley, it’s a wonder you grew up in this house at all.”
    “Mom, I’m going to be late for church. When’s the wedding so I know when to plan the shower?”
    “They’re having a small wedding next month in the Chinese Church. On Valentine’s Day.”
    They have a church? And on Valentine’s Day? Now there’s a depressing thought. I will be wearing a bridesmaid’s gown on the International Day of Love. If that don’t beat all.
    “Got it, Mom. I’ll talk with you later about plans. Gotta run.” I hang the phone up, desperate to get to church and pray again. Because I’m already running on fumes here. I want to be happy for my brother, but there’s this petty child inside me screaming at how unfair life is. I’m the oldest; I should be first!
    Once at church, I try to listen to the focusing part of the sermon—that message God wants me especially to hear today—but my mind is completely preoccupied. I’m not singing today, which is a good thing, but Seth is seated beside me, which is a very bad thing. He keeps leaning over and whispering to me about Arin and their possible budding relationship. This strange thought floats through my mind, like if I had an old clothespin in my purse like on that old game show, I could clamp his lips shut. Let’s make a deal.
    “Did you talk to Arin about me?” he whispers.
    “Kind of,” I whisper back. Yes, I told her that you were the bald one. I just shake my head. Nuff said, right? Wrong. This is Seth we’re talking about. And one thing can be said about engineers: They may be clueless in the romance department, but they’re also fiercely competitive. Arin has suddenly become the finish line, and if Seth has to use every last one of his follicles, he’s going to keep running the race.
    “Did she say anything about me?”
    I can almost see his tail wagging. “Seth, she has a boyfriend.” I whisper too loudly, and my neighbor gives me a dirty look. “Doesn’t it bother you just a little bit that you’re after someone’s girlfriend?”
    His eyes widen. Ah, those gorgeous, sparkling, gemtoned eyes. Such a pity they mask the incredible blindness Seth possesses. Life is definitely not fair.
    “She’s only twenty-four, Ash. How serious could it be?”
    He’s got me there. “Not serious enough to keep her here, I guess. She’s leaving for Costa Rica soon on a mission trip. To work with dentists.” I secretly wonder if foreign mission trips have increased with the Survivor shows. It all sounds so horribly romantic now, doesn’t it?
    Arin’s a cappella solo interrupts our conversation, and Seth immediately turns silent. He’s gazing dreamily towards the altar and I feel my stomach turn. He listens with his hands clasped as if he’s hearing the angels sing. I can see his chest heaving as he watches her. I feel for the guy, but there’s a little seething mixed in when I think back to my recent princess-cut diamond fantasies.
    The Bible outright tells men that