You're Invited(60)

That day Aunty Fiona walked in, I was actually trying to download some of the company accounts, and I thought they’d found me out for sure. That they were going to hand me over to the authorities or something like that. I was scared out of my mind.

But that’s all it was. My father suspected that Uncle Nihal wasn’t being honest with him. He was upset, yes, but none of us ever had anything against Kaavi. I told you, I adore her.





14


AMAYA


Two Days before the Wedding


I WAS RIDICULOUS for thinking I could get even a second of face time with Kaavi the whole evening. I gave it a few minutes before I made my way to the terrace so that she wouldn’t realize I’d been in the bathroom the same time as her, but while I was away the party had burst into full swing. I had been to weddings in the US that were smaller affairs than this bridal shower.

There was plenty of pink champagne, lobster, caviar bites, and white chocolate–covered strawberries topped with gold foil being passed around, while everyone squabbled over who would get to take photos with the bride-to-be.

There was a manicure station, a hand-rolled chocolate truffles station, a tarot card reading station, and a temporary tattoo station, where a frantic-looking young woman was offering a choice between rose gold Team Bride or Bride Squad tattoos.

Women in various shades of ivory and nude and dull gold milled about, looking like they were having the time of their lives. As always, I felt insignificant. A scrap of used tissue just floating around that no one even noticed.

Mrs. Fonseka was front and center of the action, probably demanding more attention than the bride herself. I stayed out of her line of sight but needn’t have worried. She had plenty more important things that required her consideration.

“What’s this?” She was berating a young waiter who looked like he wanted to shrivel up and die. “Please make sure all the champagne flutes are properly polished. You’d never see this kind of thing at the Hilton, you know.”

“Yes, madam. Right away.” The poor man scampered off while Mrs. Fonseka turned and had a hearty laugh with the aunty standing next to her, her mood switching in the blink of an eye. I had to hand it to her: she really was the original queen of putting on a show for her fans.

“Shall we take the family pictures, madam, before the sun sets and the lighting gets weak?” a man with three cameras slung around his neck and shoulders asked.

“Now? My goodness, I suppose so. You know, I really hate having my picture taken,” she announced to everyone around her before stalking toward the wall of off-white roses that had been set up as a photo backdrop.

“Kaavi, where are you? It’s time for family photos, it seems.”

Kaavi took much longer to make it to her mother, during which time Mrs. Fonseka posed, hand on hip for a few individual shots of her own.

I was too far away now to hear what the two women discussed, but Kaavi’s smile looked strained and Mrs. Fonseka kept a good foot between the two of them, despite the photographer encouraging them to wrap their arms around each other. Two shots in and Mrs. Fonseka beckoned for Tehani to join them. Nadia had been left at home, and was it just me, or could the tension between the three of them be cut by a knife? I supposed they hadn’t really recovered from their “family meeting” yesterday after all.

I spent most of the party tucked away in a corner, watching what was posted on Instagram. The tags were already rolling in when I logged on. I had to hand it to these girls: they had mad editing skills.

I saw a woman whose blouse pinched and rolled over her sides—obviously two sizes too small—post a flawless picture of herself looking like she just stepped off a runway.

There was a group of girls taking the same Boomerang of them clinking their champagne flutes for what felt like the twentieth time. I wonder whether you could break off the base of a champagne flute and use it to stab someone?

There were pictures of the food, pictures of Kaavi, and about a million different selfies.

You are stunning xx, I posted from IllegallyBlonde99.

Girl <3 Your dress!! from KimKx.

Congratulations! You’re going to be the most gorgeous bride ever x from LVSpeedy45.

This was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. I got up, meaning to walk around a little—perhaps seek out some of the women I’d met at the cocktail party, but after a few minutes of aimlessly flailing around, I figured I’d just head back into the bathroom for a minute.

I still had my phone out and pretended to be texting while I walked so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone, so his voice was a hard punch to the stomach when I heard it.

“Hello, stranger.”

I dropped my phone.

“Um, hi,” I mumbled, carefully bending down to pick it up. “I didn’t think you’d be at the bridal shower.”

Spencer gave me his million-dollar smile. “You got me.” His voice was low. My heart pounded.

“Excuse me?”

“You got me. I was just trying to sneak a peek at what was going on down here. I got bored, sitting alone in my room.” His smile shifted lightly, suggesting something, even though I didn’t let myself think of what that something could be.

I was acutely aware of the sweat snaking its way down my back. I couldn’t be around him. I didn’t trust myself to be around him.