Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(85)

“This is going to be a disaster,” she whispered.

Kareena strode through the double doors marked with a heart-shaped sign with her sister’s and Loken’s name on it, and took in the beautiful work that Bobbi and her team had done with the hall. Flowers hung from tall crystal vases, and the chairs were draped in cream coverings with gold tassels.

She had to hand it to Bobbi. The woman knew how to make parties happen, even if they were for a two-hundred-person engagement celebration planned in four months.

“Kareena!”

Kareena turned to face her grandmother’s voice. Dadi wore a deep-emerald-green sari with silver embroidery draped across the front and through her pleats. She wove through the table settings with cream-colored plates and red, orange, and yellow napkins. “Dadi, I thought you were supposed to be upstairs with Bindu?”

“I came to tell you that you have to stand by the door to greet those coming in,” Dadi said, adjusting the front of her sari. “Loken’s family should be here first, and we want our family to be the first faces they see. Now let me look at you.”

She stepped back and tilted her head back and forth in the bobblehead yes gesture she often used. “Hahn,” she said, with satisfaction in her tone, and reached out to touch the gray-to-black balayage skirt covered in a smattering of silver crystals. “Is your chunni pinned?”

Kareena touched the pleated shawl she’d draped over one shoulder with heavy embroidered gems along the trim. “No, but I’ll find Bobbi and ask her to do it for me.”

“Yes, otherwise it’ll come off and you’ll look like a stage dancer. What will Prem think?”

“Ah, I knew it was coming. The warning to not remove the sheer shawl draped on one shoulder otherwise I’d look like a Bollywood prostitute. I think Prem would enjoy that actually.”

Her grandmother shook her head.

“Don’t be such a besharam,” she said. “Shameless.” She reached up and touched Kareena’s cheeks. “The contacts suit you, though.”

“I knew you’d yell at me about pictures,” Kareena muttered. The contacts were already dry, and every time she tried to push her glasses up her nose, she ended up poking herself in the face.

“Dadi, I’m going to go get a drink and then find Bobbi.” Kareena needed liquid courage if she was going to do this thing with Prem.

“You can’t leave! I just told you have to stay here and greet our guests.”

“First of all, this is a party for family and friends. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“There are two hundred people coming tonight,” her grandmother said, deadpan. “You and the aunties are meeting Loken’s parents for the first time. We have to put on a good impression.”

“Indian Standard Time, Dadi. That means people won’t show up for another two hours.”

“We still have to do a run-through of events tonight,” Bobbi said from behind her.

Kareena stepped back to take in Bobbi’s pink-and-silver Patiala salwar. She even braided her hair in a choti with a paranda hanging from the end. Her jutti shoes matched the outfit, and her winged liner was on point.

“Excuse me, but have you seen my friend? I seemed to have lost her in a mustard field in Punjab.”

“Up yours,” Bobbi said. “Sorry, Aunty.”

“I don’t know what that means, but, Bobbi, you look so beautiful,” Dadi said in Punjabi. She reached out to fuss with her chunni that draped from one shoulder, across the front and pinned to the other. It was low enough to expose a tiny diamond necklace that matched the jhumka earrings, those pretty little umbrella-shaped drops that hung from Bobbi’s ears.

“Am I late?” Veera called out from the doors. She strolled in wearing a deep-teal-colored gown with a strip of belly showing. Her simple black fitted velvet blouse was elegant and sexy.

“You’re just on time,” Dadi said, and opened her arms for a hug. “Beta, you look lovely as well. Now you and Bobbi have to find someone just like my Kareena.”

The DJ, a sixteen-year-old music genius that Bindu had found on Instagram, began testing his speakers in the corner under a canopy of fake marigolds. The soft strains of sad Bollywood music filtered through the speakers.

Kareena’s father walked out of the back room holding a box that had a whiskey brand on the side. He wore a tux that was a little loose at the shoulders and a little snug at the waist. “I brought more for the bar,” he called out. “If we run out, I can get the alcohol from our basement that I started collecting for the wedding.”

“Daddy, you know we have to use the alcohol that the hall provides,” Kareena said.

He walked right past her toward the bar on the other side of the room. “They’re not going to have enough.”

“Keep up the good work, Uncle!” Bobbi called out. “And don’t worry about the extra alcohol. I already cleared it with the owners.”

She grabbed Kareena’s and Veera’s hands and dragged them across the hall. “Sorry, Dadi, I need a moment with these two.”

“Take your time. I’m going back into the dressing room to check on Bindu.”

“What is it?” Kareena asked when they huddled in the corner together.

“What is it?” Bobbi mimicked Kareena’s voice. “Hey, asshole, you are supposed to announce an engagement tonight. Is that seriously happening? You’ve been AWOL for the last week and wouldn’t answer our texts!”