Chapter 33 #2
Just then, Bisha Auntie appeared out of nowhere, her sari showering a burst of refracted colour across the bar.
With her perfectly coiled hair and gold bangles jingling as she moved, she was the very picture of authority—and not just any regular authority, but the kind that demanded you instinctively straighten your posture out of respect.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with amusement.
“Just getting some drinks, Auntie. I mean, I am,” Rohit answered smoothly, trying to cover for the cousins.
Manisha elbowed her drink closer to him. “We were just keeping him company,” she said with a mischievous grin.
It felt like they were all under twenty-one again, and Bisha Auntie had transformed into the local Indian “narc” of the party.
“Chal. Rohit, come with me!” Bisha Auntie said, beckoning him with a look. “Let me introduce you to some nice girls.”
“Guess we aren’t nice girls,” Deena whispered.
“Hurry up!” Bisha Auntie insisted, practically dragging him away.
“But—” Rohit started, trying to protest.
She pulled him along as he turned back with a pleading look in his eyes.
Manisha and Deena knew exactly what Bisha Auntie was up to: setting Rohit up with a potential love interest. And they knew better than to get in the way of an auntie on a mission.
Instead, they watched, throwing mocking thumbs-up and cheesy grins over to him.
In Manisha’s case, they were only half-mocking gestures.
The other half of her was happy that Rohit was taking the next step to finding love again.
With Bisha Auntie’s help, of course. And by the looks of the several other aunties tracking his movements, it seemed as if dispelling Lucky’s rumours had opened the floodgates for him.
“Well, well, well, look who’s been keeping secrets,” Deena said, turned her attention back to Manisha.
You have no idea.
Manisha tried to act casual, shrugging as she sipped her drink. “What? You know I’m just helping him out with that paperwork.”
“Paperwork, a.k.a. a bottle of wine and a ride home? Sounds like something more than just helping him.” Deena grinned devilishly. “What exactly happened in that rainstorm, huh?”
Manisha chuckled nervously, glancing away. “It was nothing.”
Deena eyed her, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. You’re telling me nothing happened between you two? Because that’s not the vibe I’m getting.”
Manisha felt herself growing uncomfortable, trying to deflect the conversation. “Really, it was just an end-of-the-day glass of wine between friends, Deena. Nothing else. I promise.”
But Deena wasn’t done. “Well, if it’s nothing, why do you look so guilty right now?” she pressed, giving her a playful shove in the shoulder.
Manisha’s thoughts raced. She could feel the suffocating weight of her secret pressing down on her. She shifted her eyes around the room, trying to evade Deena’s piercing gaze, but she could still feel it burning through her mask.
“Okay, okay,” Manisha finally relented with a sigh. She took a big gulp of her vodka soda. “There is something that’s been going on.”
Deena leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I knew it! Spill it. What’s going on?”
Manisha leaned back, her voice lowering to a near whisper.
She took a deep breath and let the truth fly.
“After we launched the site, this guy emailed the admin inbox and we started talking. At first, it was just some casual messages, nothing serious. But then, things started to…I don’t know, shift.
It became more personal, and now it’s like we’re talking all the time. I don’t even know how it happened.”
Deena’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You’re saying this isn’t about Rohit but someone else?”
Manisha nodded, watching the ice in her glass spin as she swirled it. “It’s not about Rohit. We started off with small talk, but it turned into long daily emails. Sometimes, we’re even answering each other immediately, back and forth, like a real-time conversation. And now, I’m in too deep.”
Deena blinked, clearly confused. “Wait, in too deep? What does that mean?
Manisha sighed, feeling the weight of her own emotions. “I don’t know, Deena. It started off casual, but now…it’s complicated.”
Deena raised an eyebrow. “Complicated? Wait, what’s his name? Maybe I know him.”
“Sunil.”
“Sunil…?” Deena pressed, waiting for a last name.
“I don’t know. Just Sunil.”
Deena reared back. “Manisha! There have to be dozens of Sunils in Baskin alone. Let me see a photo? Maybe I’ll recognize him.”
“About that…”
Deena gasped dramatically. “You’re getting swept up in some stranger’s words and you don’t even know his full name or what he looks like? He might be a catfish!”
Manisha winced. “Don’t say that.”
“How have you not even asked for a photo? Manisha, that’s like the first rule of online dating! You’ve got to see a picture. What if he’s some random guy pretending to be someone he isn’t?”
“I know, I know,” Manisha muttered, rubbing her forehead. “But I never thought it would get this far. I just thought it was fun at first.”
“That’s what all the catfish victims probably say,” Deena said, tapping her fingers on the bar. “Alright, let’s see those emails. I need to judge this for myself.”
Manisha hesitated for a moment but then passed over her phone.
Deena scrolled quickly through the exchanges as her eyes bugged out more with every swipe of her finger.
“Wow, I…” Deena trailed off, clearly stunned as she handed Manisha’s phone back. “Manisha, you better hope he’s not a serial killer or con artist, because this guy is charming with a capital C. And from what I just read, you two are totally falling for each other.”
“I know,” Manisha admitted, her voice low. “It’s kind of crazy, right?”
Deena shook her head, still processing. “You’ve always been so careful, so determined to keep yourself off the radar and avoid all the weirdos out there. But in these emails, you’re so open, so real. It’s like you’re completely letting your guard down for him. Sunil and Isha, huh?”
Manisha bit her lip, nodding. “Yeah, except for…well, the whole story about working for the site. Other than that, it’s been totally real. So real that I’m ready to meet him, to tell him the truth.”
Deena leaned in closer, her tone wary. “But Manisha, you don’t even know what he looks like. For all you know, he could be here right now, at this very wedding, and you wouldn’t even know it!”
“Argh! What have I done? Keeping up this facade about who I am, what I do, even my name—how could I have been so stupid? And now I’ve got all these feelings…” Manisha sighed, biting her lip in worry. “Like my mom would say, I’m such a dumbo.”
Deena shook her head with a smile. “You’re not a dumbo, Manisha. You’re my smartest cousin. You just got caught up in someone who genuinely cares about you. I think.”
Manisha let out a long breath, her mind racing. “You think. Okay, but now how am I supposed to come clean without losing him?”
Deena placed a reassuring hand on Manisha’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. It’s going to be alright. He said in one of his emails that no matter what happens, he’s willing to work through it with you.”
The two stood there in quiet solidarity as the Indian music swelled through the banquet hall, the buzz of voices growing louder as more guests filed into the room.
“Why don’t we just enjoy ourselves tonight?” Deena suggested with a soft smile. “We can talk more about it later.”
Manisha nodded, grateful for her cousin’s support. They made their way to the centre where everyone had gathered to enjoy the food, music, and good company.
She scanned the room and spotted Rohit awkwardly chatting with another auntie and her eligible daughter as Bisha Auntie watched closely. His discomfort was palpable, but he gave the daughter a polite smile all the same.
To her left, one couple cooed over their infant son while another sat hand in hand.
Some of the older aunties and uncles were sharing a laugh.
Deena was chatting with some girls and motioned for Manisha to come over.
But she had no desire to join in. All she wanted to do was reread her emails from Sunil and come up with a plan to keep him in her life.
After some time, Deena walked over and gave her a gentle hip bump. “You and Rohit may as well be in a miserable digital abyss together. You both have been glued to your phones all night.”
“You’re right. I need to put this away.” She tucked her phone back into her Gucci Marmont purse just as the DJ dropped “Jalebi Baby,” and the crowd immediately flooded the dance floor.
“This DJ is on fire, and the decorations here? Totally killing it!”
Manisha hadn’t even noticed how familiar the decor felt, until she realized—it was like stepping into the sexy dreams she’d had a few nights ago, only without the mystery man.
Deena whipped out her phone with a grin, snapping selfies while twirling on the dance floor. “I didn’t wear this outfit not to get a few dancing pics.”
“Can I join? I hate dancing, but I’m desperate.” Rohit popped up out of nowhere.
Manisha raised an eyebrow. “What happened to Bisha Auntie kidnapping you and trying to set you up?”
“I’m trying to escape!” Rohit said, dramatically looking over his shoulder.
“Better keep running; she’s sending reinforcements!” Deena teased.
Rohit turned to Manisha. “Manisha, dance with me.”
Manisha blinked, completely caught off guard. “Me? Now? Here? How?”
“Like this!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her further onto the dance floor.
Manisha’s eyes widened. “Are you trying to get us both in trouble? No handholding at an Indian wedding. You know that!”
“No one’s watching,” Deena chimed in, practically bouncing with excitement.
Just as Rohit and Manisha linked hands, a girl who had been eyeing him approached but immediately noticed their clasped hands. She did a double-take and quickly retreated.
Manisha let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Someone is always watching.”
“You owe her one,” Deena said, giving Rohit a sly look.
“Sorry,” Rohit said with a sheepish grin.
“It’s fine.” Manisha shrugged. “I just need a little break.”
“I’ll join you,” Rohit said, following her to an empty pair of seats. Manisha couldn’t hide her small disappointment—she’d been hoping to check her emails in peace, but that was clearly not happening now.
They sat back, watching Deena dance, surrounded by men trying to keep a respectful distance, following the strict no-contact rule of an Indian wedding. Rohit leaned back, admiring Deena. “She’s such an incredible cousin—and an amazing dancer. I honestly don’t get how she’s still single.”
“I don’t, either,” Manisha agreed with a laugh. “But she’s definitely setting the bar pretty high for the rest of us.”
Rohit raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s your ideal wedding—intimate or grand?”
Manisha gave him a puzzled look and then shrugged. “Go big or go home, right?”
“I think I chose ‘go home,’ remember?” Rohit grinned.
“Touché,” Manisha said with a grin. “I only plan to get married once, and I’m their only daughter, so I know they’d want something big.
” She glanced over at her mom and dad, who had made their way to the dance floor as soon as the familiar beat of the classic “O Tina O Tina” began.
They were dancing playfully with a carefree vibe that had everyone on the floor joining in.
Rohit crossed his legs, a grin spreading across his face. “Your parents really know how to steal the spotlight, huh?”
A glint from his shoe caught Manisha’s attention and she couldn’t resist commenting. “Speaking of stealing the spotlight, nice Guccis. Very stylish.”
Rohit smiled, a touch of pride in his voice. “Shoes are my weakness. The only name-brand thing I own, actually. You could say they’re my vice.”
“A good glass of wine is my vice,” she replied with a cheeky smile. “But you already know that. I used to love shopping, too. But being back in Baskin has made me rethink all that.”
As they chatted, Manisha noticed the curious stares from a few of the Gupta aunties who were eyeing them. Rohit caught them, too.
“I guess I should move over one seat,” he said with feigned seriousness. “Don’t want to ruin your reputation. Who knows what people will say about you hanging out with the ‘awful’ Rohit.”
He began to shift, but Manisha mindlessly grabbed his hand to stop him, sending a tiny bolt of electricity from her skin to his. “Sorry, must be from the dance floor.”
The decor, the music, the aunties, the Guccis—they all reminded her of that dream. But what about the man? She quickly dismissed the thought.
“Should we go back out there and dance?” Rohit asked, standing. He flipped their hands so hers was gripped in his and gave it a gentle tug.
“I thought you didn’t like to dance?” she challenged.
Rohit grinned wider. “Well, Manisha Patel, these days you’ve got me doing all sorts of things I never imagined I’d do…like being here with you.”