Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(39)

Rina: Can you stop calling it that? We’re just getting to know each other in case we have to mobilize your RIDICULOUS plan.

Prem: Just bring the shoes, Rina. And don’t be late.

Rina: ?? ? ??

Prem: You know what? I can’t even be mad at that. That’s clever.





Prem had not been able to stop fantasizing about Kareena Mann. He’d reached for his phone more times than he cared to admit, hoping for a text, or even a simple emoji. He knew that the only reason why he was so preoccupied was because so much of his future was dependent on her. His fractured focus had nothing to do with her wit, or her silky-smooth voice, or the memory of her thick hair running through his fingers.

He thought he’d be prepared when he saw her again. All those sexy thoughts were locked up tight in the back of his mind. But then he noticed those three-inch heels and all those thoughts came rushing back. Even though the lobby of the Metropolitan Museum of Art was full of noise and laughing families, Prem felt like he could distinctly make out the echo of those shoes hitting the tiled floor.

He admired the rest of her fantastic package as she cut through families and groups of people. Despite the summer June heat, Rina wore black pants, a cap sleeve button-down, and a thin black sweater vest over it. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she had small gold hoops in her ears.

“What are we doing at the Met?” she said in greeting.

“Hi, Rina, great to see you again. You look . . . wow.”

She rolled her eyes. “Prem, I wear the same thing all the time, so people take me more seriously.”

“I’m taking you seriously,” he said. “But even though I love the outfit, you didn’t pay attention to the homework. I told you to bring walking shoes.”

“These are my walking shoes.” She blinked wide-eyed behind her frames and Prem realized that she wasn’t joking.

“I hope you mean that,” he said. He plucked her bag off her shoulder. It had quite a bit of weight to it. “You’re going to have to ditch this. I don’t want you to slow me down.”

She snatched her bag back. “Slow you down?”

He checked the time on his phone. “Damn, it looks like you’re going to have to carry this for the next couple hours. I have a feeling we’re going to lose.”

“What are you even talking about?”

Without preamble, he linked her hand with his, and despite the small jolt that radiated from their palm-to-palm touch, he didn’t pull away. Prem led Kareena through the lobby, where he handed over the two special admission tickets he’d purchased before her arrival, and turned left through the Greek statue hall.

“Prem, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

At the end of the hall was a large open space with bench seats. A woman stood in front of a sketch of the original Met Museum and held up a clipboard, calling everyone to attention. Her hair was fire-engine red, and she was wearing coveralls that reminded him of the Ghostbusters jumpsuits with large black combat boots and hot pink laces.

“There has been a murder in the museum!” she shouted in a Broadway voice.

There was a wave of hushed whispers across the crowd gathered in front of her.

“What in the hell?”

“Shh, she’s about to give the instructions,” Prem said. He leaned in to whisper it in her ear and delighted in the rise of goose bumps along her neck that stretched under the crisp collar of her shirt. “This is important.”

The woman took a deep breath, and she practically bristled with indignation. “An art curator was found dead in the Asian artifacts wing with a centuries-old dagger stabbed through his heart. There are four suspects, and it is up to you to find out who the killer is. Please hand in your tickets and get your information pamphlet and pencils. You have two hours, and you must stay together to win together. If you decide to leave prior to finding the killer, you will not be issued a refund.”

“Oh my god,” Kareena said, her voice reverent. She gripped Prem’s bicep, crushing the fabric of his polo shirt. “Is this . . . is this a murder mystery scavenger hunt at the Metropolitan Museum of Art?”

He grinned. “Cool, huh? I remember you saying that you liked murder mystery theater. I thought this might be a fun date idea.”

“Absolutely,” she said. She bounced on her heeled toes and clapped her hands like a dolphin. “Oh my god. I wonder what kind of dagger it is. Do you think we get to see some of the closed exhibits for investigation purposes? Oh wait, what are your strengths? We should compare notes.”

Prem learned something in that moment as he listened to her ramble. There was no filter when it came to Kareena Mann. As brash as she may be on a normal day, apparently she showed unfiltered joy as well.

“Don’t forget,” the woman who looked like Ms. Frizzle shouted. “The first group back here gets a coupon to the Met cafeteria!”

When the moderator began directing people to form lines, Kareena turned to Prem, her eyes bright. “Why would you go out of your way to plan something like this? I thought we were just supposed to get to know each other so we don’t look like idiots if we have to use Plan B.”

“I want to prove to you that we’re a team, Rina,” he said. He tilted his head toward the scavenger hunt organizer. “That if you agree to do this with me, we could both get what we want because we can win together. We’re not on opposite sides of a table anymore.”