CHAPTER 38
Maya
I ATTACKED THE MOST PRESSING ITEM ON MY TO-DO list the way I always did: with a comprehensive plan, complete with a backup plan and a backup plan for my backup plan. Anything to help my father and Michel rekindle their friendship and put us all out of our misery.
Unfortunately, every one of those plans ended in utter, abject failure.
When Sebastian and I bribed their assistants into scheduling them for a shared “VIP dinner,” they walked out immediately upon seeing each other at the restaurant.
When we sent them apology notes signed with the other’s name, they (correctly) sensed deception and tossed them in the trash.
When we engineered a “chance” encounter at the Valhalla Club, they… well, you get the idea.
Dealing with them was like dealing with children—two powerful, stubborn children who were used to getting their way and who would rather die than give up their pride.
This dragged on for two weeks, making it a full month since my father and Michel stopped talking. For once in my life, I was all out of ideas. I wanted to tear my hair out.
To make matters worse, Priya was starting to crack under the pressure of my mother’s Bridezilla-by-proxy tendencies. I’d had to talk her out of eloping twice, but I was worried she wouldn’t make it to her wedding without committing grisly murder.
The countdown to the launch event was now measured in weeks instead of months, which meant every waking minute was spent finalizing details and triaging last-minute issues. Sebastian and I hadn’t had a moment alone since our quickie in the hotel, and I was a giant ball of sexual frustration.
Basically, I was having one hell of a spring, with an emphasis on “hell.” The only things keeping me together were caffeine, adrenaline, and my nightly calls with Sebastian.
Then there was Neha. Given recent developments, she’d rescinded her earlier threat to tell my parents about Sebastian if I didn’t do so myself. Unfortunately, she’d replaced her threat with something worse.
“You have to break up with him,” she said at Priya’s wedding lehenga fitting. My mother had wanted her to wear a more traditional wedding saree, but Priya had put her foot down. She wanted a lehenga, specifically one designed by Vian (one name only), a famous Indian bridal designer.
My mother had relented, though she’d missed today’s fitting because Priya had “coincidentally” scheduled it for the same time as her immovable doctor’s appointment.
Neha and I were seated at the back of Vian’s atelier while he took Priya’s updated measurements and fussed over the draping. They were too distracted and too far away to hear us, but I kept an eye on them while I responded.
“Neha.” I kept my voice just above a whisper. “I’m not breaking up with him.”
“Maya, this is Dad we’re talking about. He still hasn’t forgiven Raj Uncle for that blackjack incident, and it’s been—”
“Over twenty years. I know, I know.” A headache blossomed at the base of my skull. “But Seb didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m not—”
“What do you think?” Priya called out. She spun so we could see the front of her lehenga. “Should we try a different draping style?”
“It’s perfect,” Neha and I said in unison.
I waited until Priya was busy with Vian again before I continued where I left off. “I’m not breaking up with him just because Dad and Michel are too stubborn to apologize.”
“I don’t understand why you’re being so hard-headed about this.” Neha sounded frustrated. “You didn’t even like him until a few months ago. You’ve spent most of your life actively despising him.”
“Despising is a strong word,” I said. “We were… frenemies.”
“You made a voodoo doll of him and stuck it with a pin every night until Diya found it and threw it away. She forced us to sage the entire house to get rid of the ‘dark magic energy.’ The house smelled like smoke for days.”
“Yes, well, I was fifteen and very upset that he got voted class president over me, okay? All because he hijacked the female vote by flirting with them. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, we like each other now.”
More than like. But I didn’t mention that to Neha. She’d freak out even more.
“Enough that you’re willing to risk Dad’s wrath for him?
” She assessed me with serious dark eyes.
“I want you to truly understand what defying his order to stay away from the Laurents would mean. This isn’t some parenting rule about getting good grades or coming home before curfew.
He thinks Michel betrayed him, and there’s nothing he values more than loyalty—from his friends and his family.
If he doesn’t forgive Michel—and there’s a strong chance he won’t—there will be major consequences when he finds out you’re dating Sebastian.
He could demote you or fire you. He’ll make you choose between your family and your boyfriend, and if you choose the latter, he’ll never give you his blessing to marry Sebastian.
He’ll see the choice as another betrayal, one that cuts even deeper because you’re his daughter.
Your relationship with Dad will never be the same. ”
A lump of concrete lodged in my throat. She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know, but hearing her say it out loud drove my reality home with brutal clarity.
I’d been confident I could find a way to keep my family and Sebastian. Now… I wasn’t so sure.
Neha’s face softened with pity. “I’m not trying to scare you,” she said, her voice gentling.
“But you’ve worked your ass off to get to where you are now, and family is family.
Boyfriends come and go; blood is forever.
So before you make any rash decisions, I want you to think very carefully about everything you might lose if you continue dating Sebastian.
Are you willing to throw it all away for a relationship you’re not even sure will last? ”
My headache spread from the base of my skull to the backs of my eyes. I was tempted to tell her she was wrong and that our relationship would last, but I was suddenly so, so tired.
Tired of arguing. Tired of fighting. Tired of trying to explain things to people who didn’t get it or didn’t want to get it.
I was tired of being me.
Priya saved me from having to answer when she asked us to come over and check the embroidery details.
We did as she asked, but Neha’s question echoed in my head the entire time.
Are you willing to throw all that away for a relationship you’re not even sure will last?
I touched the locket at my throat, my chest tight.
Deep down, I knew my answer.
And it scared the hell out of me.
Sebastian
I entered my father’s study without knocking.
The door to his home office was cracked open—unusual, but not unheard of—and the shades were half-drawn when I walked in. It smelled like smoke and leather.
He sat behind his desk, a cigar tucked between his fingers. Deep grooves lined his face as he puffed on the Cuban. He appeared to have aged a decade over the past few weeks, but his eyes were as steely as ever.
“This is a surprise,” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?
The launch is in two weeks, and you have a lot left to do if you want to meet our contract terms.” He took another puff of his cigar.
“Unless you’ve given up your foolish dreams of being a professional chef and are sticking to what you’re best at. ”
“Don’t worry about the launch. You’ll get your event of the season.
” I sank into the seat opposite his, my words projecting a confidence I didn’t quite feel.
The stress from the launch and from hiding my relationship with Maya was taking its toll in the form of sleepless nights and occasional anxiety attacks, but I’d die before I admitted it to him.
“I could ask you the same question. Aren’t you supposed to be at work? ”
His mouth twisted into a mirthless slant. “It’s amazing what you can get away with when you’re your own boss.” He placed his cigar in a crystal ashtray. “To what do I owe the honor? It’s not often you stop by without notice.”
“I came to check on Maman, but we also need to talk.” I paused. “She was looking forward to the Switzerland trip. She’s quite upset about it.”
My mother wasn’t taking our estrangement from the Singhs well.
The housekeeper said she’d spent the past month alternating between crying, drinking, and buying exorbitantly priced items from the Sotheby’s auction website while binge-eating chocolate.
She’d been purchasing a three-hundred-thousand-dollar emerald necklace when I checked on her earlier.
She insisted she was fine, but I suspected she was taking the estrangement especially hard because it represented another giant loss in her life. After my aunt, Maya’s mother was her closest friend.
I hated Neal for dividing us like this, and I hated my father for putting him in a position where he felt like that was necessary.
A crinkled formed between my father’s brows, but it vanished as quickly as it’d appeared. “Your mother will be fine. She has other friends.”
“That’s not the point,” I gritted out in French. “You know how hard Aunt Brigitte’s death hit her. Now she can’t even talk to her best friend because you’re too stubborn to apologize.” I tried to tamp down my rising anger. “Why did you do it? Why did you take that meeting with Charles Whitaker?”
If he hadn’t said yes to that goddamn dinner, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. He kept dismissing the meal as “nothing important,” but he had to have known it would get back to Neal. What I didn’t understand was why. What was his angle?
My father’s face tightened. “It was one fucking dinner,” he snapped, also in French. “Everyone needs to get over it.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘one fucking dinner’ in business. That’s the first thing you taught me.”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you. You have no idea what I sacrificed for—” He stopped, his lips thinning. He switched back to English. “Did you come to pester me about this boring topic again, or is there another reason you’re here?”
I stared at him, my gaze raking over the stress lines bracketing his mouth and the exhaustion lurking in his eyes. It was my first time really looking at him in a month. I didn’t know if he’d changed during that time or if I had, but he looked smaller. More tired.
I’d built him up to be this monster in my head, but he wasn’t. He was just another man.
The knowledge settled inside me, cold and eerily calm.
I wondered what he’d say if I told him about Maya. He either wouldn’t care, or he’d blame her for distracting me if the launch bombed. Either way, he didn’t get the privilege of seeing that part of my life.
He kept his secrets; I’d keep mine.
“No.” I stood, my expression neutral. “No other reason.”