He was brooding over the insult when Tarun introduced him to Salena Patel, a distant relation who had arranged all the flowers for the sangeet.
Jay didn’t know anything about flowers. He and his mother had never had a garden. They’d lived in apartments in the most affordable areas of the city until he’d made enough money to buy her a house. His receptionist, Jessica, ordered flowers for his dates when special occasions arose, and his mother preferred practical gifts for special days.
“They’re lovely,” he offered.
“I did the flowers for Nasir and Priya, and I’m doing the flowers for the weddings of Layla and Sam and Daisy and Liam.”
Jay didn’t know any of the people she’d mentioned, although her expectant look suggested he should. Now that he’d exhausted his range of flower compliments, it was a struggle to know what to say. “Beautiful.”
“Do you know who is beautiful?” She moved in closer. “My niece. She’s a smart girl. Good salary. She has lots of energy. Not like those girls who just sit around all day staring at their phones. Very sociable. And a good heart.”
“I’m not looking to get married right now.” He shifted his weight, mentally calculating the distance from the bar to the door. If he had a clear path, he could get away in less than ten seconds.
Her forehead creased in a frown. “You have a girlfriend? Fiancée?”
“No.”
She adjusted her glasses and stared him up and down. “Are you sick? Injured? Are you not earning? Why don’t you want to get married?”
He searched for something to say. “It’s not the right time.”
“Always the young people say it’s not the right time.” With a sigh, she shook her head. “Always they think they need to have the perfect job and the perfect house and the perfect car. But no. These things are easier to achieve when you have someone by your side. Someone to support and help you.” She turned and searched through the crowd. “Beta.” She waved her hand. “Come. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Jay cocked an eyebrow at Tarun in a silent plea for help, but his friend just laughed.
“I need to go and rehearse my dance for later tonight.” Tarun dropped his voice to a low murmur. “I’m sure you can hold your own against Salena Auntie. She’s half your size.”
“Get ready,” Salena said. “Here she comes.”
* * *
? ? ?
Oh God. Not Jay. Why wouldn’t the aunties leave her alone?
Zara forced a smile for the man she had been trying to ignore all evening—a virtual impossibility given that he dominated the bar with the force of his presence alone. Tall and brooding, with a strong, sexy jawline, and the barest hint of a five-o’clock shadow, he was too attractive, too confident, too intense, and from the smirk on his face, clearly too aware of his charms.
“This is my niece Zara.” Salena Auntie nudged her forward and launched into a quick summary of her attributes, which included being employed, helping the family, having good teeth, no mustache, and a very healthy appetite.
“This isn’t 4-H, Auntie-ji,” she murmured. “I’m not competing to win the blue ribbon for best in show.”
“And she’s funny, too,” Salena said with a light laugh. “Just now she made a joke that I’m talking about her like she’s a farm animal at the fair.”
“Very amusing.” Jay’s flat tone suggested it was anything but.
Zara closed her eyes and willed the ground to swallow her up. “Jay and I have met. He was at the bachelor-bachelorette party.”
“Even better.” Salena patted Zara’s hand. “Did you tell him your mother is a partner at a big-city law firm? And your dad . . .” She forced a wider smile. “Is an engineer.”
“Auntie-ji . . .” Zara shook her head in warning. Her aunties always left out the most important part—the part that scared potential suitors away. “He isn’t an engineer anymore. He’s an artist and a musician. He’ll be playing in the bhangra band tomorrow at the baraat.” The traditional Punjabi music was now a feature of many Indian weddings, particularly at the groom’s procession on the morning of the ceremony.
Salena clamped a hand around Jay’s wrist as if she were worried he’d run away now that Zara’s father’s shame had been made public. The arts were low down on the list of desirable desi professions. Her father’s career change was problematic for the aunties who were desperate to see her wed.