Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(13)

A woman’s voice filtered through the speakers with a heavily Mumbai-accented voice. “Welcome to the Jersey City South Asians News Network and a very special Saturday episode of The Dr. Dil Show!”

Fake applause ricocheted through the studio speakers.

“Please welcome Dr. Prem Verma, our very own Dr. Dil!”

Prem?

Kareena’s shoulders went ramrod straight when Dr. Dil appeared from behind the set backdrop.

Oh no.

She could’ve sworn she heard doom music as she took him all in. Dr. Dil was tall, lean, and broad chested. His suit fit him like a glove, and when he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeve, she had to remember to breathe.

And damn, that jaw. That really fantastic angular jaw.

That familiar jaw that she had kissed and touched just the night before.

Her failed hookup from the restaurant, Prem Verma, was Dr. Dil. What’s worse, this confirmed that he was an official desi fuckboy.

Desi fuckboy. Definition: a gorgeous brown snack of a man with a dream body, a pedigree that would make a traditional aunty sell her soul for a marriage rishta, and the ability to use charm and influence to make her regret all her life decisions. Like leaving a crowded bar with him so they could make out in someone’s office.

“This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” Kareena whispered.

“It’s just for an hour,” Bindu said. She leaned back and scanned Kareena’s face. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I just may,” she whispered. With all the Indians in the state of New Jersey, why did she have to run into the same one for a second time in one weekend?

Kareena’s pulse jumped when he turned to her direction. She knew the moment he spotted her. Prem’s eyes widened like saucers, and his mouth fell open.

Yeah, I’m as surprised as you are. This wouldn’t have happened if you told me that you were actually a talk-show host.

She looked down at the Pedialyte in her hand and immediately tucked it between her ankles. This man could not know that she spent the rest of her night drinking because of him. She had her pride.

Despite the humiliation he put her through, the embarrassment that would plague her forever, Kareena was not going to look like a coward. He was the one who screwed up and left her in an awkward position! What gentleman did something like that?

The studio’s fake applause quieted to a whisper. Then, Dr. Dil opened his mouth, and his voice sparked a trail of goose bumps up her spine to the back of her neck. She could still feel the imprint of his palm where he’d held her for a kiss.

Then he turned away from her in a smooth move that felt so dismissive her mouth fell open in shock.

“Thank you, everyone, for tuning in for another episode of The Dr. Dil Show. I’m your host, Dr. Prem Verma, a cardiologist here in Jersey City. And as many of our Hindi-speaking South Asian viewers know, prem means love, dil means heart, and this show is about the holistic health of the heart.”

Holy cow, when Prem had told her that he fixed broken hearts, Kareena thought that was a line! The bastard meant it in the literal sense! Who did that? Who made funny, adorable puns about their jobs just to seduce women?

“Last week we spent quite a bit of time discussing coronary artery disease and the Stanford study pointing to a higher mortality rate in the South Asian community.”

He looked straight at Kareena again.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared.

“Today, however, we’re switching gears to a heart health topic that, oddly enough, doesn’t get a lot of attention from cardiologists. Romance. Part of heart health, especially for younger generations, is romance. That’s why I’m thrilled to welcome Bindu Mann, popular lifestyle influencer and YouTube channel host of Mann Your Business, to our show.”

He held out a hand and motioned for Bindu to join him onstage. “Bindu?”

Kareena watched her sister stand, tilt her chin up, and stride across the floor in her fitted skirt and blouse, before ascending the stage at the entry point one of the producers pointed to. Bindu turned to the camera and flashed her brilliant white smile, before she held out a hand and shook Dr. Dil’s. “Thank you for having me,” she said.

They took seats across from each other on the stage and when they were finally settled, Dr. Dil spoke first. “Now, Bindu, when you and I spoke on the phone, you mentioned that you were recently engaged. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she said, and flashed her princess cut diamond ring. “We’re excited.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, was it an arranged marriage or a love marriage?”



“Do you believe in love and romance, Rina?” Prem traced a figure eight on the inside of her wrist. The delicate caress had her shivering.

“Of course,” she said breathlessly. “Hearts, stars, flowers. I want all of it in my life. What about you?”

His gaze had dropped to her mouth. “I believe there are some things stronger than love.”



Where was this man going with this? Were these questions preplanned, or was he referencing their conversation? To be honest, asking about love marriages and arranged marriages was smart. Kareena knew that very few cultures differentiated their marriages the same way—people either had a match arranged for them where they agreed based on compatibility, or they dated and fell in love like Western culture. Bindu, of course was—