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“Can they reschedule? I’m going to Milan for the Fashion Week anyway,” I said desperately.
“No, Diya. That’s months from now. They can’t wait for so long. If you’re not in the photographer’s office the day after tomorrow, you lose the job. I’m sorry, but it’s as simple as that.”
I thanked her and hung up, feeling miserable. My biggest dream was so close to fruition, but I was going to lose it all just because I was married.
“What are you going to do?” asked Isha worriedly.
I shrugged.
“What can I do? I can’t swan off to Milan two days after my wedding. Padmini Aunty was planning a mooh-dkihai for the close family on that day, right?”
We had kept the wedding very small. But Dheer’s extended family was insisting on meeting me, and Aunty couldn’t hold them off without being rude. That was our way of life. And my career had to take second priority to the social obligations that came with my marriage. That’s just how it was.
There was a knock at the door and Dheer frowned at me as he came in.
“What’s wrong?”
I shook my head.
“Are you missing your family?”
“A little,” I replied with a smile.
“Fancy a ride?”
“I don’t ride,” I replied sheepishly.
“What about all those lessons you had as a child?” he asked in surprise.
“Those were a big fail. I’m not very comfortable on horses, probably because I’m terrified of heights. I did a polo photoshoot once, and almost fell off my horse because I got dizzy,” I admitted.
“Okay, but what if you weren’t alone on the horse? You can ride with me,” he offered. “Pasha can carry us both. I’d like to take you riding in the moonlight. It’s an amazing experience, Diya.”
It did sound lovely. I nodded hesitantly.
“Alright, but if I fall off the horse and break my neck, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life,” I warned.
Dheer shot me a lazy smile that sent my heart rate soaring, and I looked away to hide my feelings. He was simply far too good-looking. It wasn’t fair!
My assistant came over to catch me up on work matters, and I spent the rest of the day closeted with her in our room. I went through the proofs from my last shoot while Bina read out my schedule for the Milan Fashion Week which was barely three months away.
“It’s a very tight schedule because it’s happening right after the London Fashion Week. Are you sure you can cope, Your Highness?”
I nodded absently because I knew I wouldn’t just cope but thrive on the madness of two back-to-back fashion weeks. A tight schedule would keep me far too busy to brood over my problems.
I approved the proofs and selected a few BTS images for Bina to share on my social media accounts. Then I did an hour of power yoga because I was feeling stiff and restless. I hadn’t been working out for the past few days, and it was time to get back to my strict workout schedule.
“Bina, can you call Roshan to Trikhera, please? I need to prep for the fashion weeks,” I said between the vinyasas, referring to my personal trainer.
After my workout, I sent her home and had a luxuriously hot shower to soothe my aching muscles. I looked like a lobster when I came out of the shower but I was a calm lobster, ready to take on my new husband and his panty-melting smile.
After a quick dinner with the family, Dheer asked me to meet him in the stables. I joined him reluctantly, sure that this was going to be the day I fell from a horse and broke my neck.
“Can I get a helmet?” I asked anxiously.
Dheer laughed loudly at that, and I wanted to shove him face down into the pile of horse poop in the corner.
“It’s not funny, Dheer. I have a photo shoot in two weeks, and…”
