Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(45)

Kareena didn’t laugh. Prem may have found this whole situation hysterical, but she doubted that he dealt with the backlash like she’d had to. And yet, he still caused a flutter of butterflies in her stomach in his presence. “You didn’t have to come. You know this is not going to make me change my mind about our little deal.”

His expression grew pensive. “Rina, I know I can’t be the guy that you want. But I can help you buy time. After we get the money, I’ll do everything in my power to help you.”

“And the kissing?” she blurted out, desperate to know the answer. It had been plaguing her. “Why did you kiss me again? Why did you kiss me like that?”

“To make all this believable,” he said with such precision, as if he’d prepared his statement.

His words cut her deeply, slicing the small part of her that had found his touch, his kiss, utterly romantic. The flame of hope that burned deep in the shadows of her heart since their very first conversation snuffed out.

In the short amount of time that they’d texted and talked and spent time together, she’d thought that Prem was braver than that.

Kareena backed away from him with her chin tilted up and her shoulders back. “For a moment you had me second-guessing myself, Dr. Prem Verma, but I was right all along. You are a liar.”

She whirled, ignoring his shocked expression as she marched down the short hallway into the open kitchen and living room. The aunties and uncles were already there, having arrived while she finished getting dressed. Her father was pouring drinks, and her grandmother was ordering her friends around in the kitchen.

The most out of place things in her house were the clusters of balloons in each corner featuring a famous Bollywood actor. As Kareena scanned the two rooms, she realized that Shah Rukh Khan’s face was not only on the balloons, but he also graced the table napkins and the cardboard cutouts angled in each corner.

People could get anything Bollywood related in Edison, New Jersey, these days.

As she stepped into the kitchen, she saw Shah Rukh Khan from his earlier movies and from later movies where he sported a full beard. When the balloons swayed from people walking past them, or from the ceiling fan, it was as if the movie star was judging her with a shake of his head.

“Screw you, Shah Rukh,” she muttered. “You had a script.”

Kareena spotted Dinesh Uncle right away. His brightly bald, shining head was a beacon to anyone searching for him.

She squeezed through the small group of people until she reached his side. “Happy birthday, Uncle,” she said, and gave him a quick hug.

He patted her shoulder. “Thank you, beta. Thank you, thank you. How are you doing?”

“Living the life,” she said with a grin.

“Ahh yes, we heard.” An echo of laughter surrounded her. She glanced at her father who was pouring a drink at the bar cart, and his expression was mutinous. Damn it, as progressive as some Indian families had become, there were certain moments that reminded Kareena why there was truth to stereotypes.

“How are the twins?” she continued.

Dinesh Uncle scoffed. “Too busy for their dad. One is at MIT and the other at Harvard. Between school and sports, they couldn’t make it home.”

She should start her tally. How many times would an uncle or aunty name-drop? Kareena knew that the twins were at MIT and Harvard, but Uncle’s comment was just a subtle reminder that she went to Rutgers instead so she could stay close to home.

“Well, we’re here to celebrate with you,” Kareena said, smiling as brightly as she could.

She greeted all the rest of the uncles before moving toward the kitchen and meeting her aunties. She was very aware of Prem exiting the foyer and joining the group of men. Veera and Deepak appeared to be deep in conversation next to the whiskey bottles, while Benjamin and Bobbi were nowhere to be found.

Prem continued to watch her from a distance as she kissed Sonali Aunty, Falguni Aunty, Farah Aunty, and Mona Aunty on their cheeks.

“I hope you don’t mind that I invited your match and some of his friends,” Sonali Aunty said, tongue in cheek. “I’m so glad that we found someone for you!”

Kareena couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “That Instagram post was, er . . . staged, and you know it, Aunty.”

“I wish we had staged photos like that in my youth,” Mona Aunty said, her eyes sparkling. “If anyone had caught me like that, my mother would never let me hear the end of it. But yours? She would’ve probably loved it.”

Sometimes Mona Aunty knew exactly what to say. “Mama would be so happy I have all of you to take care of me,” Kareena replied, ignoring the ache in her chest.

Farah Aunty draped an arm around her shoulder. “Beta, you have to tell us the truth. You two are dating now, nah?”

“No, Aunty,” Kareena said. She knew someone was going to eventually ask the question. “But if you’re so set on helping me, then why don’t you look at that huge network you all are always bragging about to find me the love of my life? I think the harassment all these years was just for show.”

Falguni Aunty picked up a pakora from a serving tray and dipped it in mint and coriander chutney. “Nonsense, beta,” she said. “It’s just hard to find someone for a woman who has such high standards. Which you should! But being as educated and outspoken as you are, men have sensitive egos.”