Divya looked at Ethan’s face, expecting it to crumple, but he sighed, and she had a feeling it was in relief and not frustration.
“I should talk to her.” The way he said it, Divya wasn’t sure if he’d meant it as a question.
“I believe Vegas is very liberal with their marriage annulments. If you are serious about marrying her, you should make your case.”
They both studied Pooja. Like Divya, she was wearing the traditional red-and-white choora bangles worn by brides on their wedding day and for months to a year after, depending on the family’s traditions, to signify her newlywed status. Her lehnga was a pink bejeweled skirt with a royal blue border and a matching top that showed off a small section of her midriff. The groom whispered something in her ear, and she smiled stunningly. She whispered something back and he laughed, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek to the general merriment of the gathered crowd.
“It doesn’t look like she wants me to save her,” Ethan muttered.
Divya had to agree. The bride looked excited and happy, not teary-eyed or forlorn in any way. Not the way she herself had looked earlier this morning. A pang of jealously hit Divya. She didn’t want to get married, but if she had to, she wanted to be as happy as Pooja looked with her groom.
Ethan stared at Pooja and Divya realized they were attracting a few looks. Pooja looked in their direction and Divya stepped away from Ethan.
Pooja’s eyes widened. She whispered to her groom, then stepped toward them. The eyes of two hundred people followed her. “What are you doing here?” she said in a low voice once she came closer. Her eyes flicked to Divya, then back to Ethan. He stood silent.
Divya stepped up to Pooja and hugged her, then whispered in her ear, “He crashed my wedding, looking for you.” She released Pooja and said in a loud voice, “We had to come congratulate you, even though it’s also my wedding day.”
Pooja caught on quick. She turned around. “I need just one minute with my friend, then I’ll be back.”
An older lady stepped forward. “Hurry up, Pooja. The car is ready.”
Pooja led the way and Divya took Ethan’s hand. He frowned, and she leaned over and stood on tiptoe to whisper, “She’s a married woman. Appearances are important.”
He didn’t argue but his lips thinned. Pooja led them through a set of doors and into a food-prep area. A waiter came toward them. “Please, just one minute,” Pooja said, and he nodded.
“I’ll wait outside,” Divya started, but Pooja shook her head. “I need you to stay here.”
Ethan shook his head. “I came here to break up your wedding and you’re still worried about appearances.”
Pooja glared at him. “How dare you show up here to ruin things for me? You had me, Ethan, and you let me go. If I wanted you here, I would’ve sent you an invitation. You’re doing what you always do, going for what you want without considering how it affects everyone around you.”
“If you didn’t want me here, why did you send me that email saying you loved me and would’ve married me?”
She sighed. “Past tense, Ethan. I sent you that email for closure. It was a goodbye, not an invitation.” She stepped closer and put her hand on his arm. “I said some really harsh things the last time we saw each other. I didn’t want to start my new life by leaving things like that with us. I wanted you to know that you were special to me.”
Ethan was silent and Divya resisted the urge to stand up for him. She looked at him, and though his eyes were focused on Pooja, he seemed to be a million miles away.
Finally he asked, “Do you want to be married to that guy?”
Pooja’s eyes softened. “Yes,” she said. “My parents set us up, but Anil and I fell in love.”
“So quickly?” he said skeptically.
“I know you think arranged marriages are forced, but that’s not the case. I was ready to settle down and so was he. We already got along with each other’s families. There was no bullshit between us, so Anil and I could focus on whether we wanted to be together. It doesn’t take long to fall in love once you’re ready.”
Pooja’s eyes flicked to the door. “I’m sorry, Ethan. What you and I had was something special, but you know as well as I do that you were never going to marry me.”
She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to go. Try not to get in the way of your own happiness.”
Ethan stood rigid with his back to the door as she left.
Divya touched his arm. “Are you okay?”
He shrugged. “Guess that’s that. Where do you want me to take you?”
Divya stared at him. How could he be so nonchalant about the woman he loved getting married to someone else? Divya had a ton of questions for him, but he turned away from her, and she sensed that he didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe he was embarrassed.
“What do you want to do next?” he asked.
Divya chewed on her lip. Do I dare? She’d come this far, might as well go all the way.
“There is someplace I’d like to go but...” As she said the words, the weight of what she’d done began to descend on her. She had wrestled with the decision for weeks, ever since her parents had announced her wedding to Vivek. She had protested and threatened and planned her escape, but ultimately, she’d lacked the courage to stand up to them. It wasn’t until she was sitting next to Vivek by the holy marital fire that the realization hit her that she would never get a chance to love a man or be free to chart the course of her life. Nor would she get a chance to do the one thing she had dreamed of. She wasn’t that religious, but in that moment, she’d prayed for an escape. And then Ethan had shown up.
“I don’t have any money with me.”
“You have enough jewelry on you to buy a house.”
Divya’s hand flew to the diamond choker around her neck. “This is my mother’s. You can’t sell family jewelry.”
Ethan smirked. “Spoken like someone who comes from money.”
Divya bristled. “You don’t seem hard up. A Tesla isn’t a poor man’s car.”
“I earn my money,” Ethan said wryly.
“Well, I work, too, and if I could, I would happily live on what I earn,” she said hotly, but his words burned into her. She’d been handed everything in life. While she knew how lucky and privileged she was, she had no sense of whether she was worth anything beyond her family’s wealth.
She took a breath. “We don’t have time to waste. I need to lay low for a few days. I don’t want to face my family when they’re so angry with me and while there’s still a chance for them to resume the wedding. I have a bag packed with some essentials. I could call my sister and see if she could deliver it somewhere.” Even as Divya said it, she knew her sister’s phones and movements would be monitored by her family.
“It’s probably not a good idea to contact your sister if you’re trying to avoid the rest of your family. Do you have your driver’s license?” He scanned her body slowly and deliberately as though he were examining her with X-ray vision.
“Hey, eyes up here.” She glared at him, though little sparks of excitement coursed through her at the obvious interest in his eyes. She reached into her tight-fitting blouse and pulled out a well-worn dark blue passport with Republic of India stamped on the front.
“You’re not American.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do I sound like an American?”
“Why get married in Vegas?”
“Because my fiancé—ex-fiancé—is American.” She didn’t have time for small talk, though; it wouldn’t be long before her eldest brother Arjun mobilized his considerable influence to find her. “Listen, I really need to get out of Vegas. I was only able to fit this passport in my blouse. I don’t have any money, but I promise you that if you can pay for a bus ticket to New York, I’ll—”
He waved her off. “I’ll give you whatever money you ne
ed.”
“Thank you. I’ll pay you back as soon as I—”
“I have more money than I can spend in my lifetime. It’s meaningless to me.” The catch in his voice hit her in the chest.
“Is there anything I can do for you? Talk to Pooja?”
He looked at her, and she saw frustration and also a shadow of something darker in his eyes. “I think you and I both know that I’ve lost Pooja. Don’t worry. I’m used to it. How about we focus on getting you out of town.”
She wanted to know more. How could he let go of the love of his life as if he’d lost nothing more than money at a casino? He is not my problem. Right now she had a very short window to get away. She hadn’t come to America to get married. She’d come for a taste of freedom, to do the one thing she’d never be allowed to do: to take a chance on a dream and see if she could make it come true.
“Why New York City?”
“There is something I need to do there. I’ll explain later. Can you drop me at a bus stop?”
He smiled. “I have a better way to get you there. Let’s go. I’ll explain on the way.”
Excitement exploded through her. Can this really be happening? Am I really going to get to New York? The idea of being able to go without the shackles of her family was incredible. She began running through the list of things she needed to do as Ethan led her out of the hotel.
They retrieved the car, which the valet had kept front and center. He handed the key card back to Ethan, who peeled off several hundred-dollar bills and handed them to the wide-eyed man.
As Divya took her seat, it hit her. I must be mad. Ethan was a complete stranger and she was getting in a car with him not knowing where he was taking her. What if he was a psycho or axe murderer? Why was she so at ease around him? She knew nothing about the man.
“Can I borrow your phone to check my email?”
He held the phone to his face so the facial recognition program unlocked it and gave it to her. He motored the car out of the hotel’s drive-through and back into Vegas traffic. She opened up a web browser and typed his name. Ethan Connors. She gasped audibly as the search results displayed.
“I guess you googled me.”
She looked at him guiltily. His eyes were focused on the traffic ahead, but his lips twitched.
“I’m sorry. I was curious and I just—”
“—wanted to make sure I wasn’t some serial killer?”
She smiled sheepishly. “Your name sounded familiar. My family business is hotels, so I don’t regularly follow the tech world, but I remember reading the headlines when your app hit one billion users and you branched into India.”
He smiled. “We’re at three billion globally now.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize your name. You’re almost as famous as Mark Zuckerberg. Why didn’t you say something?”
Ethan shrugged; his smile was shy as he focused on the road ahead. His expression sent a ping right to her heart. “Mark gets better publicity. Mine isn’t so flattering.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m known to be a bit of a troublemaker.”
“Is that why you’re helping me?”
He was silent for several seconds. “Maybe. Maybe it’s because you’re a nice distraction from losing my future wife.”
“You hardly seem heartbroken about Pooja.”
He put a hand to his chest. “And how would you know what I’m feeling?”
Had she imagined the fleeting look of relief on his face when Pooja had told him she loved her husband? What do I know? Divya was a basket case of emotions. Her family would be worried about her. And they didn’t deserve the embarrassment and shame that would ensue in the Indian community from her running away so publicly. She should have done it before the invitations went out, or before the guests arrived, or even last night when her family could’ve claimed she was sick and saved face. She’d been so anxious about what it would do to them, that in the end, she’d forced herself into the worst of possible options.
She clicked through various friends’ social media pages and gasped when she saw a picture of her and Ethan escaping from the wedding. As she scrolled through the feed, her heart sank even further. “There are social media hashtags about us. The one that’s trending is #BrideSnatcher.”
“Ha, that’s clever since my company is called Deal Catcher.”
Divya turned the phone off. If she read any more, her already weakening resolve would crumble further. “My parents are going to be furious. They are so careful about their media image. They’re never going to forgive me.”
Ethan flipped his hand dismissively. “It’ll blow over in a day or two, as soon as a Hollywood celebrity announces a baby on the way or there’s a new royal scandal.”
It wouldn’t ever blow over with her family. What have I done? So what if she had to marry boring Vivek? Would it be worse than being disowned by her family? He wasn’t a bad guy. So what if he didn’t make her heart go pitter-patter? Yes he’d laughed at her dream career, but she could’ve worked on him. He wasn’t as traditional as her parents; she could’ve convinced him eventually. That was the conclusion that had driven her to step into the wedding mandap that morning. She mentally shook her head. The damage was done. There would be no point running away if she didn’t do the one thing she needed to do. After that, she could return and face the music with her family. Like she always did.
Divya was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed where Ethan was driving. When he stopped the car, she realized they were at the airport. More specifically, at the private-aviation gate.
“You have your own plane?”
Of course he did. He was Ethan Connors. From the little she remembered and her quick read of his Wikipedia page, he’d started his company with an app that helped people search multiple websites for the best price on products and set an alert when items they were looking for went on sale. During the coronavirus pandemic, the app had helped people find toilet paper and other necessities and report price gouging. Since then, the app had grown into an enterprise that included an online store for exclusive products and was expanding into other areas such as real estate bargains. He’d become an overnight billionaire. Lucky for her, he wasn’t an axe murderer. An adventure junkie and playboy, yes, but that she could handle.
“It’s a business expense,” he replied flippantly.
“And you just happened to have it ready to go?”
He smiled wistfully. “I was planning to whisk a bride away.”
Her pulse jumped. What am I doing? Ethan had to be emotionally messed up, and here she was, taking advantage of him.
He parked the car next to a plane that looked bigger than the medium-sized Gulfstream her parents had. He exited the car, and before she had a chance to gather her skirt, he opened her door and held out his hand. A man with manners. She placed her hand in his and immediately felt his strength as he pulled her up. She came face-to-face with him as she stood. A warmth spread in her chest as she thought about the brief kiss she’d given him at her wedding to convince everyone that she knew him. It had been the lightest touch, but it’d felt so electric, she had pulled away fast. Now, with their faces so close, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him properly.
They stood there for several seconds, until he let go of her hand. He pointed toward the stairs leading up into the airplane.
She paused at the bottom step, the handrail hot under her hand. This is a bad idea. There was still time to make it right with her family. An hour had passed since she’d left her wedding. All the guests would still be there, enjoying the food and drinks her brother had likely served up in the hope that they’d find her or she’d return. If she went back, she could play it off as nerves. Her parents would be angry, but at the end of the day, the marriage to Vivek would be all that mattered. The media storm would die down. Everything would g
o back to normal.
But the more time passed, the more unforgiveable her actions became. There was no turning back if she stepped onto the plane.
She eyed the jet. Her entire life had been carefully mapped out. She never made a move without a plan; even an evening out required meticulous preparation. Getting on a plane with a stranger was a recipe for disaster.
“Are you ready?” Ethan’s mouth curved into a smile. Her heart stuttered. She knew what she had to do.
Three
What am I thinking? He had spent most of yesterday rehashing all the poor choices he’d made in life, and today he’d made two more spectacularly bad decisions: the first to crash Pooja’s wedding, and the second to get involved with Divya’s escape.
Last night he’d been at his condo in Los Angeles, unable to sleep. He barely recognized the furniture in the place, let alone remembered how to operate the overly complicated coffee machine. He owned a condo in every major city where he had to spend time for his business. He was tired of hotel rooms, yet none of these condos was home. The closest he’d come to feeling grounded was living with Pooja for three months. But when he’d been with Pooja, all he’d been able to think about was all the things that didn’t work in their relationship. After she’d left, he’d been unable to stop thinking about how great things could’ve been between them.
He’d woken up in a cold sweat this morning, wondering whether he’d die alone in one of his ubiquitous condos. Living on his airplane, jetting from city to city was getting old. He wanted a place where he belonged; he wanted what his brother and his parents had—a soul mate. In her email, Pooja had accused him of setting an impossible standard that no woman could ever meet. Maybe she was right. He had a black book full of failed relationships. So he’d put his jet on standby and charged into Vegas, intent on getting Pooja back.
But here he was, with another woman, thinking about how her luscious pink lips had tasted of vanilla when she’d kissed him earlier. Was his mother right? Was he afraid of commitment? As he watched Divya negotiate the narrow steps of the plane in her heavy skirt, he knew it was a bad idea to spend time with her. He was attracted to her and felt the familiar urge to throw caution to the wind and pursue her like he did any endeavor that caught his attention.
Running Away with the Bride--An opposites attract romance with a twist Page 2
