Chapter 33
Manisha stuck close to her dad as they navigated the buffet tables together.
While her mom floated effortlessly from one auntie to another, charming her way through the growing crowd, Manisha and her dad were focused on the real mission of the evening: securing the best food before the line got too long.
The scent of golden pakoras and flaky samosas wafted through the air, making her stomach growl. Her dad, however, zeroed in on something that didn’t belong. “Sushi? At an Indian wedding?” he muttered, frowning at the neatly rolled pieces. “What’s next? Tacos?”
Manisha grinned. “It’s called fusion, Dad. They’re just trying to mix things up a bit.”
He scoffed. “Fusion! Everything’s fusion these days. What’s wrong with the Indian classics?”
Manisha laughed and decided to skip the sushi, piling her plate with chaat and a generous helping of paneer tikka instead. She led her dad to a quiet table in the corner where they could eat in peace, away from the chatter and chaos.
Her dad poked at his food. “This samosa is dry, not as good as mine.”
Manisha smirked. “Nothing beats your cooking, Dad.”
He shook his head, chewing thoughtfully. “They probably used old oil. You can taste it. And this chutney? Too watery.”
She couldn’t help but laugh as he went on about the subpar quality of the wedding food. “Well, at least it gives you a night off from cooking.”
Her dad raised an eyebrow. “A night off isn’t worth bad food, beta.”
Manisha snorted and pulled out her phone to check her messages while her dad kept critiquing each bite under his breath. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing out loud and drawing too much attention at her dad’s very serious but comically snarky grumbling.
Manisha’s dad scanned the room with a hint of disdain. The crowd of relatives and familiar faces barely registered in his mind; lately, he had made a habit of avoiding these gatherings altogether. But her mom had finally put her foot down.
“I’m tired of all the questions!” she’d exclaimed one evening, hands on her hips. “Everyone keeps asking where you are. They probably think we’re divorced! Or that you’re dead!”
So here he was, suit pressed and reluctantly present, fulfilling his obligation with a look that suggested he’d rather be anywhere else.
He squirmed uncomfortably as he loosened his tie. “I’m heading out for another smoke.”
Another habit of his, this one adopted during his childhood—smoking cigarettes. With determined strides, he disappeared from view.
Manisha polished off the last of her crumbs when Deena’s voice startled her.
“Manisha, wow! That sari is stunning!”
“Thanks, D. And your Anarkali is absolutely fire! Spin around for me.”
Deena obliged with a dramatic twirl, the vibrant coral Anarkali flaring out in a blend of gold-embroidered panels. The intricate detailing on the bodice shimmered under the banquet hall lights, and the matching dupatta draped elegantly over her shoulder completed the look.
“It’s actually two years old,” Deena admitted, smoothing the fabric. “But it’s finally getting some love tonight. We’ll have to snap some pics later!”
“Absolutely,” Manisha agreed, already wondering if she should share the photos with Sunil.
“By the way,” Deena said, leaning closer, “there’s a secret bar tucked away in the back area. Come on, let’s hit it up.”
They strutted through the crowd like a duo on a mission, expertly dodging the nosy aunties scanning for gossip. Once they reached the hidden gem of a bar, Deena flashed a grin at the bartender.
“Two vodka sodas, please,” she ordered confidently, tossing her dupatta over her shoulder.
“Deena,” Manisha said, downing her drink in one smooth motion and setting the glass on the bar with a decisive clink.
“Oh, it’s that kind of night?” Deena raised an eyebrow, signalling the bartender for another round. “Well, let me catch up.”
“You might want to drink up fast,” Manisha said, her tone carrying a mix of humour and tension. “There’s something I need to tell you. Rememb—”
Deena raised a hand, cutting her off with a playful grin. “Stop right there—you don’t have to say another word. I already know what you’re going to say.”
Manisha froze mid-sentence, her gaze blank with surprise. “Wait…what? How?”
Deena leaned back confidently, smirking. “It’s written all over your face.”
“It is?” Manisha blinked, teetering between confusion and alarm.
“Obviously,” Deena said, shrugging. “The dates have been a nightmare—I take full responsibility for that. But don’t worry, I reviewed a fresh batch of applications today, and trust me, there’s some real talent in the mix. Boy, do they look promising!”
Manisha let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, that’s what you’re talking about. Deena, I think we should press pause on setting up any new dates for now.”
Deena’s expression shifted to concern. “Wait, what do you mean? You’re not giving up, are you? Please tell me you haven’t thrown in the towel!”
Manisha sighed, glancing down at her hands. “No, not exactly. It’s just…well, remember when I brought up being the site’s ‘admin’ yesterday? And how I’ve been responding to some of the admin questions that have come in?”
Deena circled her hand in a move-it-along motion. “Yeah, and?”
“Well,” Manisha hesitated, biting her lip. “It’s just that…some of those messages weren’t exactly admin-level straightforward. They were…let’s just say, more complicated.”
Deena tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “More complicated how? Oh no. Are we in trouble? Did we break some law? How bad is it?”
Manisha laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “Well, it’s not we who are in trouble, it’s me who is in trouble, actually, if you want to call it that…”
Deena groaned, leaning closer. “Manisha, I’ve barely had two sips of my drink, and you’re already giving me a headache. Just spill it!”
Before Manisha could answer, a smooth male voice interrupted them.
“Manisha! Deena!”
Both women turned to find Rohit approaching, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that complemented his confident stride. “Wow,” he said, stopping in front of them with an admiring smile. “You both look stunning. I’m speechless.”
“You clean up nicely, too,” Deena replied.
She could say that again—in a light-blue suit with a crisp white shirt and dark-blue tie, Rohit was looking good.
“You found the secret bar,” he said. “I like your style. Getting a head start on things.”
“How do you know Anjali?” Manisha asked after Rohit ordered a glass of wine.
“Our families are tight, so skipping tonight wasn’t really an option—though, trust me, I considered it.
I’ve been dodging those evil auntie stares all week.
But my mom and Anjali’s mom go way back, and it felt wrong not to show up.
Besides, I think the gossip has finally cooled down a bit…
ever since Manisha went full Tyson on Lucky. ”
“Careful, she’s got bad aim,” Deena warned, with a grin.
“So I’ve seen.” Rohit chuckled.
Deena stared in disbelief. “You showed him the video?”
Manisha waved it off casually. “It’s really nothing. He would’ve found it eventually.”
“Probably not,” Rohit added with a shrug. “I don’t really go online.”
“Yeah, Manisha, how would—” Deena started, but Manisha quickly cut her off.
“The Lucky thing? It was really nothing…” Manisha said, steering the conversation in a new direction.
“It was something,” Rohit said. “She came to apologize,” he informed Deena. “That’s not nothing.”
Deena sputtered as her drink went down the wrong pipe. She quickly reached for a napkin, coughing.
“She would’ve done it in due time. I had nothing to do with it,” Manisha said, trying to deflect.
“I don’t know about that,” Rohit replied, his tone more serious now. “I hadn’t heard a word from her until the city hall incident.”
“Anyway,” Manisha said, hoping to steer the conversation away from herself. “What I mean is, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you don’t care what anyone thinks or says anymore.”
“And you know what? Forget about everyone staring,” Deena added with a grin. “You can hang with us anytime. Let’s give them something new to talk about.”
“Yeah, totally hang with us,” Manisha said. The words sounded a little too eager to her ears. Slowly so as to be subtle, she lowered her glass to the bar, not wanting to overdrink and find herself wrapped around Rohit’s body again.
“How’s the legal stuff for the café going?” Deena asked, looking at both Manisha and Rohit.
“Fine!” Manisha squeaked. “Why do you ask?”
Deena raised an eyebrow. “So how much more time will you both be spending together? I mean, as his lawyer,” she added, though her voice lacked any real conviction.
“We don’t need to do anything more for now,” Rohit said with a shrug. “Once the permits are approved, we should be all set. But hey, we do have our shared love of wine to keep us connected.” He flashed a smile at Manisha.
“Have you two been drinking together?” Deena asked, doing her best impression of an auntie.
“Oh, he had a new bottle of red,” Manisha explained, trying to downplay it. “And after all those disastrous…umm…meetings last night, I definitely needed a drink.”
“Or two,” Rohit chimed in with a grin. “I had to drive her home.”
“You did?” Deena’s brows shot up in surprise. “Last night? In that rainstorm?”
“It was just rain, Deena,” Manisha said, her voice carrying a warning. She could practically see Deena’s mind racing, picturing some rain-soaked Bollywood moment between her and Rohit.
“Anyway, like you said, the permits have been submitted, so we no longer need to hang out so much. You can have all your evenings back,” she said, tilting her chin at him.
“Oh,” he said, feigning disappointment. “Well, that’s a shame.”