Chapter 8
MEHER
T o say I was stupefied was an understatement. Gobsmacked even. In fact, I could go so far as to say that my flabbers were gasted!
Samrat Singh Deora, the man who walked out on me that day because he didn’t even care to hear my side of the story, the one who had believed Nilanjana’s version of the incident over mine, was standing up for me. To Nilanjana, of all people.
When I looked up, he was staring at me stonily.
As if he hated the very sight of me. Then why the hell did he bother to defend me?
Well, I didn’t need the big, bad army boy to defend me.
I could stand up to this bitch all by myself.
Only, nobody seemed to think I could because before I could speak up, Shivina leaned forward and stared Nilanjana in the eyes menacingly.
“I’d like to add that if you ever treat one of my guests like this one more time, Your Highness, please consider this your last invitation into our home. You will never be welcome at Mirpur Palace again.”
Ranvijay looked on proudly as his wife took my hand and led me into the palace.
Nilanjana looked like she’d swallowed a fly by accident.
Or maybe a wasp. As for Samrat…well, he looked furious.
But I couldn’t tell if he was furious at Nilanjana, at me, or at himself for defending the woman he held in such contempt.
“The guys are waiting to meet you, Sam,” said Ranvijay, leading Samrat into the ballroom where the party was being held. Shivina and I immediately made for the other side, leaving Nilanjana standing all alone at the door.
I tried not to look behind, but I couldn’t resist one last glimpse at Samrat’s retreating back. And just before he turned the corner, he turned around and caught me staring at him. Damn it!
I stumbled as I turned around hastily, and Shivina started giggling uncontrollably as we made our way through the crowd.
“It’s not funny,” I bit out under my breath.
“No, you’re right. It’s just very romantic,” she sighed.
I tugged at her hand and brought her to a hard stop.
“There is nothing romantic about Samrat and me. And there never will be. So please don’t go getting any ideas, Shivina,” I said sternly.
“Really? Then why did he defend you so fiercely to Nilanjana?”
I threw my hands up in confusion.
“I have no idea why he did what he did. But I can tell you for sure that it had nothing to do with romance. I don’t claim to understand his equation with Nilanjana, but I got the feeling he was making some kind of point.”
“If that’s true, why didn’t you refute his claim that you’re here together?” she asked shrewdly, and I sighed heavily.
This was what was niggling me since I walked into the house. Why did I allow Nilanjana to keep thinking we had come to the party together? Sure, she was very rude to me. But I knew how to put people in their place. I didn’t need to support Samrat’s lie for that.
The only answer to that question was that I was a fool.
I wanted nothing to do with Samrat, and his relationship with Nilanjana was none of my business.
But it still pissed me off beyond measure to see her acting all possessive of him.
And I felt the need to stake a tiny claim to him, even knowing that it was completely fake.
Just to show Nilanjana that she did not own Samrat.
I was such a moron, I thought with a groan.
I was trying to prove to Nilanjana that she had no say in how Samrat and I treated each other.
But that wasn’t true, was it? Because when it had come down to her word versus mine, he had believed her.
Samrat had merely used me this evening to score a point against her, and the more I thought of it, the more furious I got.
“Because I don’t owe anybody an explanation, Shivina,” I snapped.
“And this is exactly why I didn’t want to attend this party.
I hadn’t even stepped through the door before I was forced to relive the past. I don’t have time for Samrat, Nilanjana, and their dirty games.
So, please make my excuses to Nandini Aunty, but I’m out of here,” I said, turning on my heel and heading for the door.
This time, she tugged at my hand and forced me to stop.
“You can’t leave now,” she yelped.
“Who’s leaving?” demanded Isha, turning up behind her, looking gorgeous in an organza sari. “I didn’t dress up like a Christmas tree for you bitches to bounce on me!”
“Language,” snapped Diya, joining the conversation. She scowled at her bestie. “Do not give my mother another reason to be mad at me, you foul-mouthed ghoul! She thinks I’m a bad influence on you.”
I snorted loudly at that because Isha was the worst influence on us all, and it was a bit rich for Diya’s own mother to think her daughter-in-law was a saint and that her daughter was a trouble-maker, when it was the other way around.
“See? This is why you can’t leave,” begged Shivina. “Don’t leave me alone with Laurel and Hardy. They drive me nuts with the constant bickering.”
“And think about your business, Meher. It’s almost safari season. Do you want to send all these fat wallets to Corbett when you could pocket their money?” demanded Diya, who had more business sense than all of us put together. “Come along, now. It’s time to make nice with some aunties.”
They dragged me around the room, and I followed them reluctantly, while my mother kept a stern eye on me from her comfortable perch on a sofa on the balcony above us. The aunties were keeping vigil on the younger royals from above.
An hour later, I was exhausted and completely disheartened. While most people were polite enough to my face, I could sense the whispers that followed me around the room. The sly glances. The judgmental glares that questioned my right to be in this room.
“Guys, I don’t think this is working,” I said desperately as we wandered onto one of the many terraces at Mirpur Palace.
Isha waved a waiter over, and we grabbed flutes of champagne with little strawberries floating in them.
Meanwhile, Shivina beckoned over another waiter who was carrying a trayful of hors d’oeuvres.
I popped a tiny pineapple and cheese skewer topped with a fancy lavender-coloured flower into my mouth, and my eyes almost rolled back into my head in pleasure as the flavours burst on my tongue.
“Leave the tray,” ordered Diya, as she pointed to a comfortable circle of plush chairs and a small table.
We kicked off our heels and sank into the chairs with a collective groan.
“The jumpsuit looks divine, Meher,” said Shivina. “Isn’t it from Diya’s latest collection?”
“It is,” I replied.
“Meher, have you ever thought of having a small boutique in your hotel that stocks exclusive resortwear? I could design a line just for your hotel, and it wouldn’t be available anywhere else for the first six months,” said Diya.
“That would definitely funnel some traffic to our resort,” I replied, mulling it over.
Diya’s luxury brand, House of Trikhera, was very popular, and the people who could afford her outfits wouldn’t flinch at the prices of our packages.
“But it’s not enough to establish us as a reputable brand,” I went on. “We need much more footfall, and that looks quite difficult right now. Didn’t you see how the Ma Sa of Panesar made a face when I told her about my luxury safaris?”
“To hell with the oldies, Meher. You need to trend with the younger crowd. You could start with that group of PYTs who look like they are barely out of diapers, but call themselves royal lifestyle influencers,” said Isha.
“The girls might be cool, but their mums are very conservative,” warned Shivina. “They barely acknowledge me because I used to be a domestic worker.”
“Damn it! How am I going to make this work?” I wailed.
“It’s funny how you and Samrat have the same problem,” said Shivina slowly, and we all turned to stare at her.
Isha made frantic throat-slashing signs at her, telling her to shut up, and Shivina threw her hands into the air.
“Whaaat? It’s not a big secret that Samrat is trying to reclaim his old life. Just like Meher. I’m sure he has his reasons, just like she does.”
“You cannot talk about Samrat in front of Meher. What is wrong with you?” hissed Diya.
“Really? Then, please explain why they walked into the party hand-in-hand?” asked Shivina sceptically.
Isha and Diya turned to me with loud, dramatic gasps of horror, while Shivina shot me an evil grin.
“You know why we walked in together,” I yelped. “He literally drove into me when I was on my way here. And we had to ask RV to send a car to fetch us.”
“That doesn’t explain the hand-in-hand bit,” said Diya severely.
I groaned loudly and rubbed my temples, wondering how my life got so complicated in the course of one miserable evening.
“Okay, I’ll stop torturing you now,” said Shivina hastily, reading the distress on my face. “But I do think it would be a good idea for the two of you to join forces.”
“Please…never say that out loud…ever again,” I begged, and she shrugged.
Isha and Diya stared at me uneasily as I stuffed three of those pineapple and cheese skewers into my mouth at once.
But I couldn’t help it. If I didn’t have something to chew on, I was going to burst into tears.
Fuck it, three weren’t enough. Isha held out the tray, and I grabbed a few more skewers and stuffed them into my mouth.
And if it wasn’t typical of my luck that just when I was looking like a squirrel with my mouth filled with bits of pineapple and cheese, Dheer, Veer, and Ranvijay walked out onto the terrace to join us. And following at their heels, looking extremely grumpy, was Samrat.