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“Because you can’t deal with her tantrums when she doesn’t get her way,” she replied drily.
I sighed heavily.
“This has to stop, Isha. First of all, it’s false advertising. I have no intention of marrying any of these guys she forces me to meet. It’s time she made her peace with the fact that her daughter will never marry.”
“That’s all very well, but who’s going to break it to her?” asked Isha, staring at Dheer worriedly.
“I’ll talk to her about it when I go home this time.”
“She’s terrified you’re going to shack up with some shady European fortune hunter on one of your trips.”
I snorted in derision at the very idea.
“Doesn’t she know me at all? I live like a nun, Isha.”
Unlike the other models I worked with, who partied hard when they weren’t working, I had a very cloistered lifestyle. All I did was work and work out. My only friend was Isha. And after my last experience with love, I had no interest in that fickle emotion.
“It’s normal for parents to worry about their child.”
“But it isn’t normal to manipulate said child even when she’s thirty years old,” I replied grimly. “I’m done with this shit. If I have to listen to any more negging from Ayush, I’ll stab him in the throat with a toothpick.”
Isha’s eyes widened in panic when I picked a mini galouti kebab off a passing tray and pulled the toothpick out to brandish it around like a weapon.
“You can’t leave so soon, Diya. I have no one else to talk to, and I have to stay for a while because Dheer is my ride back home. Please stay for a while,” she begged, and I relented with a sigh.
I couldn’t tell her that the real reason I was so eager to get the hell out of there was her stupid brother. If merely the sight of him could make me spiral so badly, I didn’t know what I’d do if I was forced to talk to him.
I wondered if I could hide somewhere until it was time to leave. But I must have done something awful in a past life because I spotted a well-known gossip making a beeline for us. And walking behind him, looking like he’d rather be hanging from the wing of a rocket in outer space being pelted by flaming asteroids than be anywhere near me was His Highness Randheer Singh Shekhawat.
CHAPTER 2
DHEER
Harish Mirchandani wasn’t just a regular, garden-variety scumbag, he was also the meanest son of a bitch I had ever met. A fact that I knew very well. So when he announced that he wanted me to meet someone very special, I should known he was up to no good. Instead, I followed him across his living room like an idiotic lamb with no survival skills.
I don’t know how he knew anything about my history with Diya, but his eyes held a particularly malevolent gleam when he led me straight to her.
Diya saw us coming and began to look like a cornered animal. My sister was shaking her head frantically, silently pleading with me not to approach them. I knew I should have made an excuse and walked away before Harish forced me to speak to her, but it was Diya. I knew I had no right to even look at her after the shameful way I had treated her, but I craved the sound of her voice. I longed to see her smile at me the way she used to all those years ago.
Right now, though, she was scowling at me like I’d drowned her favourite puppy.
“Darling! You get more gorgeous every time I see you,” said Mirchandani, looking mighty pleased with himself. If he had a moustache, I bet he’d be twirling it right now like a comic villain. “How does it feel to be the star of the Paris runway this year?”
Diya kept her eyes on him as she politely shook the limp hand he held out and I kept a little distance from them, wondering if I could slip away after all.
“Long time, Harish,” she replied laconically. “And to answer your question, it doesn’t feel any different.”
“Modest, as always! And how well you look, Isha. You’ve lost that bit of Diwali weight you were carrying last year,” he said snidely.
I stiffened in response, ready to rip him a new one for body-shaming my sister, but Diya spoke before I did.
“Body shaming is so gauche, don’t you think?” she asked gently.
My sister raised her chin and shot Harish a scathing glance.
“I can refer you to an etiquette coach, Harish. You sound like you need a refresher course,” she said coldly.
Harish reddened angrily and flashed them a toothy, mean smile.
