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“What are you wearing?” he asks.
I adjust the camera to show him my jeans.
“Not today, Maahi. What will you wear for the party?”
“Oh,” I giggle. “A dress.”
“Short?” he queries.
I nod.
“What color?” He clears his throat, shifting in his seat.
“Black.”
He nods.
“Straps?”
“Spaghetti straps,” I clarify, noticing him gulping. Is that fear or anger?
“Come on, Vikram. It’s Leela Mahal we’re talking about, and I’m hosting the party. You can’t expect me to wear traditional clothes.”
“Never,” he agrees. “Wear what you're comfortable in.”
“That dress is very comfortable. It’s satiny soft and... perfect. But I won’t wear it from Ratna Mahal; I'll change once I’m at Leela Palace. Daadi wouldn’t mind but still.”
“Did you show that dress to Daadi?”
“I did. She loved it,” I wink. “She even suggested I wear it when you're around. I’ll send you pictures when I wear it during the party.”
Vikram gazes at me for a long moment while I tell him about the games we have planned. He stays silent, just staring.
“Vikram,” I sigh. “I can change my outfit and cancel the idea of inviting men if that will make you feel better.”
A smile appears on his face.
“You mean it?” he asks, and I grin.
“I mean it, but I’d like to wear that dress. It’s...”
“Then go ahead.”
“Really?” I jump in joy.
“Yes, Cub. Enjoy your party.”
“Oh my God. I’d kiss you for being so lovable, Prince Pompous.”
“Thank your stars I’m not there right now,” he warns. “We’d get arrested for making out in those trial rooms behind you.”
I laugh. We talk for a few more minutes before I hang up to help Preet with her dress selection.
Spinster Party
The night of the party, Leela Mahal's top floor is transformed into a magical venue, complete with music, drinks, and food. It feels like a reunion with all our school and college friends invited. Preet looks stunning in a black gown with a long slit on her left leg. She's lost some weight for her wedding, and she looks amazing.
As the host, I check on the guests and ensure everyone is having a great time. Darcy is busy coordinating with the staff, and everyone has a drink in hand. The men are indeed good-looking, but I don’t mingle much. I might not be wearing a mangalsutra, but a small dot of sindoor on my forehead signifies my marital status.
