You're Invited(44)

“I mean, I see Kaavi every day. I’d known she and Spencer were friends, of course. He’s helped out so much with the charity, and has flown down here quite a few times this last year. But I never got the sense that he and Kaavi were involved romantically.”

“Maybe it’s not about the romance,” one of the intern friends joked. “I heard they’ve been hooking up for a while now.”

“Kaavi? Hooking up? No way. She’s far too prim and proper.”

“No? She’s so secretive though. No one ever seems to know what’s really going on with her.”

“She is secretive. I’ll give you that. I actually did get the sense she’s been hiding something these past few months. So maybe that’s it. Maybe she just had Spencer locked up in her bedroom the whole time.”

The table erupted into giggles, and I joined in, too, even though I had given up trying to feel good about anything this evening.

“But that proposal, good lord.”

“Good lord, indeed.”

“Is the video up yet?”

“No, she hasn’t posted it. I don’t know why; now that was something out of a movie.”

“I have it,” Lakshi, who worked at Kaavi’s charity, said. “Spencer asked me to record Kaavi’s speech, though at the time I had no idea what he would do.” She smiled, smug that she was a part of the in-group.

“You have the proposal on video?” I asked, before I could help myself.

“Of course.”

I took a deep breath.

“Any chance you could send it to me? I would love to see it.”

A beat of silence.

“It’s just that I lose out on so much living in LA. I hate that I’ve missed so many important moments in her life,” I added.

“Sure.” She was almost dismissive. “Just promise me you won’t post it anywhere until Kaavi releases it herself or she’ll kill me.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” I said, reaching for her phone as she held it out and keying in my details, “I’m barely on social media anyway.”

“And . . . sent.”

“Check that out,” one of the women said, tilting her head toward the bar.

It was Tehani, openly laughing and doing tequila shots with the boys.

Maybe I was staring, because she suddenly looked over at me. Something glinted in her eye, though that might have been the light from the numerous outdoor lanterns. She handed her drink over to one of the men and whispered something into his ear, flirtatiously touching his arm. Then, shooting him a dazzling smile over her shoulder, she made her way to where I was standing.

“Amaya, hi, sorry I didn’t see you until now. I’m so glad you came,” she said, smacking her lips loudly as her cheeks touched mine. “Have you said hi to Amma and Thaththa yet? I know they’d love to see you.”

Oh goodness, there was no way I could talk to Mr. and Mrs. Fonseka now.

“Y-yes. Yes, I did. Briefly. They were super busy so I didn’t want to take up too much of their time.”

“Ah, okay. Great. Well”—she gave me a little hug so her lips were close to my ear—“if this lot become too much to handle, you just come find me, okay?”

She sashayed her way back to the waiting group of men. At least one of the Fonsekas wasn’t shunning me. But then, it’s not like Tehani knew about anything that happened.

“What did she want?” a girl with a headscarf asked, mischievously. I thought she might have looked familiar, but if I was being honest, I couldn’t care less about this party anymore. All I wanted to do was get home, change out of this uncomfortable dress, and watch Kaavi’s proposal video.

I managed to exchange polite goodbyes, feign terrible jet lag, and was just about out the main gate when I heard a commotion. There was far more security at the event tonight than there had been during the day—no doubt because there was a politician or two attending.

About four of these security guards, dressed identically to Mahesh’s driver in white short-sleeved shirts and black slacks, were pushing back a disgruntled bald man with a neatly trimmed mustache.

“Mey mona pissuwak the mey?” What madness is this? His voice was raised as he tried to duck around the group of men. “Mata kathakaranna vitharai oney.” I just want to talk.

Talk to whom?

“Pissuda bahng? Yannawa oy yanna. Thamuseta therenne naddha dang party-ak kiyala?” Are you crazy? Get lost. Don’t you understand that there’s a party going on right now?

And with that, one of the larger men shoved him back, causing him to fall—sprawling on the side of the road.

I wanted to step out. I wanted to help him. But as always, something held me back.

He pulled himself up onto his feet, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

“Kiyanna thamuselage miss-te mama aava kiyala.” Tell your miss that I came to see her. And with a few choice Sinhala swear words, he turned around and made his way down the lane.

“What was that about?” I finally was able to muster, stepping out from behind the gate.

“Some madman, miss. Nothing to worry about,” one of the security men answered.

“Madam, good evening.” It was Piyadasa, Mahesh’s driver. That was strange. I don’t remember seeing Mahesh inside.