Kareena scowled at him. Damn him for being right. She was currently having mind-numbing conversations with four different people, and trying to figure out if any of them were worth an in-person coffee meeting.
“Come back in three and a half months, Prem. I’m busy right now,” she finally said. “I’ve said it before and I’m going to say it again. You are my Plan B.”
Prem turned to her, and the corner of his mouth curved up, as if he knew all her secrets.
Calm down, bitch. He ain’t for you.
“Do you really think the aunties are going to believe you when you show up with me by your side two weeks before your sister’s engagement party? Will your dad believe you?”
She scowled at him. He had a point. Everyone was going to think she’d lost her mind.
Kareena very well might before the end of this.
She began lining up the rest of her tools on a felt mat after wiping them down with the towel. Without turning to him, she said, “I’m not saying yes, but how do you propose we make this look like we’ve been dating for months?”
“Get dressed in something other than your Mechanic Indian Barbie outfit, and I’ll take you out to lunch. We’ll take pictures and talk about logistics. Or we can pick up where we left off last time.”
She whirled on him. That had to be a joke. “I think you need to stop bringing up my birthday mishap.”
Prem slowly shook his head, his eyes darkening. “If you’re asking me to forget my one night with you, no matter how short it was, then you’re out of your mind.”
She stopped, every part of her frozen with confusion. “Prem . . .”
“Come on. Get dressed. I’ll buy.”
Kareena thought about it for a moment longer. “Fine,” she said. “But I want Indian food.”
“Punjabi Express?”
Her jaw dropped. “You remembered?”
He rolled his eyes, as if her surprise was a ridiculous reaction. “Of course. Now hurry up. Let’s get out of here before your grandmother and sister come out to find us.”
Kareena grabbed her phone. “Speaking of my family, you don’t want to go through the house unless you plan on spending time helping Bindu plan her engagement party. I can meet you out front by your car.”
“Good idea.”
She swore she felt Prem’s fingertips graze the base of her back as they cut across the yard in two separate directions. But then again, it could’ve been the early June heat playing tricks on her.
Either way, she had to be on her toes for the next couple hours. If she was going to spend it in Prem’s company, she couldn’t let her guard down. He was the type of man who pushed until he got what he wanted, and there was no way she would ever roll over for a partner, especially someone like Prem Verma.
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Indians Abroad News Dear Readers, If you are arranging with the matches for the first time, encourage them not to eat. Food is often a distractor and an opportunity for one candidate to judge the other. A classic cup of chai is always preferred.
Mrs. W. S. Gupta Columnist Avon, NJ
Chapter Ten
Prem
It took less time than Prem figured it would for Kareena to surprise him again. Fifteen minutes, in fact. The car ride from her house to Punjabi Express was filled with the same easy conversation he’d discovered with her when they met the bar. Their sentences connected one after the other as if they were not only on the same page, but in the same paragraph, creating the same story together. “I’m starving,” she said as they entered the small strip mall restaurant. Prem hummed in agreement. He pressed his fingertips at the base of her spine, and even though she stiffened under his touch, she didn’t pull away.
“Should we order first?” Kareena paused in front of one of the empty booths. “Or should one of us sit to hold the table?”
“You sit,” he said. “I’ll get us something to drink to start off with. Mango lassi?”
She looked up at him, startled.
Yup, I remember.
She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Sure, that would be great. I can pay for my own, though.”
“Rina, honey, sit down,” Prem said, and stifled a laugh at her mutinous expression. He crossed the restaurant but paused before reaching the counter so he could turn back and watch Kareena slide into the booth. She immediately began scrolling on her phone. Who was she talking to? Was she still hell-bent on finding another guy to hang out with for the rest of the weekend?
“Excuse me?” the uncle behind the counter said. “What is it you want, sir?”