Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(17)

“My fault?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “How is this my fault? Indian children always are blaming their parents.”

“Mom, you texted me the family emergency SOS code!” He burst out. “I left Rina, that girl who was in the video with me, without any explanation or excuse because I thought there was a true emergency.”

“It was an emergency,” she said, with belligerence. She pursed her lips and leaned in closer to the camera. “Your cousin is getting married. Before you! Your aunt will never let me live this down.”

Prem pressed his fingertips to his forehead. He couldn’t get the image of Kareena’s arms up in the air, her sweater vest stuck covering her face, as he bolted out of the office with his heart pounding.



He tugged, and she went rigid in his arms. “Ouch!”

“Oh my god,” he said, hands pausing at her waist. He looked at the outline of her face through the fabric of her sweater vest. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

“I wore earrings today for the first time in a while, and I think one is caught on my clothes.” There was a strain of amusement in her voice.

He was going to die of mortification right there. He was like a sixteen-year-old trying to take off a girl’s clothes for the first time.

“Here let me—”

His phone buzzed, and the ring was specific to the SOS family line.

He stepped back and glanced at the screen. He thought he could feel his heart stop. Flashbacks of the day he found out about Gori cascaded through his mind. “I’m so sorry, I have to go,” he said, and bolted out the door.



“Prem!” his mother snapped. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, Mama,” he said. Prem had thought that someone else had died.

He knew now that SOS call was fate intervening and saving him from ending up with a woman who was the devil incarnate.

“Mom, I have to go.”

She practically pressed her papery cheek against the screen. “Prem Verma, don’t you dare hang up on your mother! We have things to talk about.”

Prem sighed. “What, Mama?”

“My offer to pay you to get married.”

He really couldn’t talk about money when he was hurting for it. He might do something rash and make a deal with his mother. “I told you. Health center first, then you can send me as many rishtas you want. As many biodata documents with matching résumés that you can get your hands on.”

“I’ll find you someone prettier than that girl, too,” his mother said.

I doubt that, he thought. Kareena may be his nemesis, but he wasn’t going to lie and say she was anything but the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Thez,” she continued. “I bet she’s thez.”

Prem winced. He knew that older Indian aunties called younger desi women thez as an insult. As if being street-smart was a bad thing. “Mom, do you want another lesson on stereotypes?”

“Oh, chup kar. Your grandmother used to call me that, too, but of course, that was just because she didn’t like me. Beta, what was the point of becoming a handsome doctor if you’re not going to attract the best life partner by your credentials alone? You don’t even need a personality to be married once you have an M.D. Look at your father.”

“Mom.” Prem pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep breath. “You aren’t helping my situation at all.”

Her expression softened. “I’m sorry, beta. It’s just I never want to see my children take the long hard road.”

He thought about his conversation with Kareena again and cursed himself for the amount of times her face appeared in his head. “It’s my choice. I really have to go now.”

“Fine. Go eat something.”

“Yes, Mom. Bye.” He hung up and adjusted the computer so it was positioned on top of the stack of books with the screen at eye level to where he’d be sitting for dinner.

Then he let out a frustrated groan.

The only person he’d met in his life who was worse than his mother was Kareena. His mother made his life difficult, but Kareena Mann had straight up ruined it.

Which in turn meant he had to deal with his mother.

He recalled his week like a bad highlight reel. His meeting after the show from hell was a dud, and then he received a call from Gregory at LTD Financial, his largest investor, who pulled out after seeing the viral video. That meant Prem had four months to come up with a lot more money than he expected. The funds he needed were now well beyond what he’d hoped to raise. Then, his producers had been sending him scripts all week about a new love segment in an effort to capitalize on his viral fame.

His laptop pinged with an incoming call, and Prem sat up to answer it. Always the punctual one, Benjamin Padda’s name popped up on the screen, then his face appeared moments later. Prem’s best friend grinned at him.

“Oh hey, it’s that doctor who went viral for getting fucked on a TV show for South Asian aunties. Did you know there are memes out there of your clueless face while you’re getting roasted?”

“Up yours,” Prem said. “Not only has this been a shit week, but I also just got off a call with my mother who is not happy. I really could use some compassion right now.”

Bunty snorted. “Then why did you agree to dudes’ night? If you think I’m bad, wait until Deeps shows up. He’s worse.”