Running Away with the Bride--An opposites attract romance with a twist

by Sophia Singh Sasson

  She shook her head. “Would you say that to me if I became a famous singer and made billions?”

  He stared at her. “It’s really hard to make billions from singing. Millions, maybe.”

  She gave him a patient smile. “You’d say I have talent and am making money from it. The same applies to you. Whatever’s going on with your parents doesn’t diminish your accomplishment.”

  He wanted to take her words to heart, but somehow he knew that if he was laboring away at a nine-to-five job, or perhaps if his brother, Matt, was the one giving it, his father would be more inclined to take his money. The thought burned a hole in his heart.

  He switched his attention to her other foot, and she winced. He looked down to see that she had a scrape along the side of her foot. “Those heels were the wrong size, weren’t they?”

  She scrunched her nose. “A little bit. But it doesn’t help that I’ve been wearing heels all day.”

  “Stay here.”

  He returned with a wet washcloth and cleaned and bandaged her foot.

  “First thing tomorrow, I’m going shopping for some sneakers and maybe some yoga pants.”

  He laughed. “So you’re not the kind of girl who wears couture around the house?”

  “I’m not the type of girl who wears couture outside the house. Much to my mother’s disappointment, I am a T-shirt-and-jeans type of girl.”

  Exactly the type he liked. She pulled her feet back and slid closer to him. “Thank you for today. Singing in front of a real audience, that’s been a dream of mine. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really wanted to do and you made it happen.”

  He shook his head. “You made it happen. With your voice, with your talent.”

  She leaned closer to him.

  “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

  Had she really asked him that? “What guy in his right mind would say no to a question like that from a beautiful woman?”

  She gave him a slow smile. “You think I’m beautiful?”

  I think you’re freaking gorgeous.

  He wasn’t going to let this moment go. He leaned forward and their lips crashed together.

  * * *

  Divya didn’t consider herself a sex goddess, but she was confident with her romantic experiences. Then came the kiss with Ethan.

  She’d leaned into the kiss, fully intending to take charge. Except it wasn’t the usual tangle of tongues and lips. Ethan took his time tantalizing her lips, sucking on them gently, flicking his tongue and letting her breathe in the heady scent of his aftershave. Her core tingled with anticipation. She pushed her fingers into his hair, eager to deepen the kiss, to bring his mouth closer. She heard him groan, and hot desire flared deep inside her. She wanted him. Bad.

  He broke the kiss. “This probably isn’t a good idea.”

  That was not the reaction she’d been expecting. He leaned back. “It’s been quite a night,” he said gently.

  What am I doing? Maybe it was the high from Café Underground that had made her throw all sense of propriety to the wind. Here was a nice man who had helped her out and she’d put him in an awkward position by asking to kiss him. How was he supposed to respond to that? “Sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you,” she said.

  “I thought I kissed you,” he said, moving back on the couch so no part of their bodies was touching.

  “Why did you kiss me if you thought it was a bad idea?”

  “I...” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I...we both almost married other people today. It seems like a bad idea to jump into something new.”

  It was as if someone had stuck a pin in her balloon. But she shouldn’t be surprised. Ethan was wealthy and good-looking and dated women who looked like Pooja. How could she possibly compare? Her dating history consisted of Indian men who were into her because she came from a highly desirable family. Ethan was the first man who focused on her and not what her family had to offer. Of course he was rejecting her.

  “Well then, I guess we both better get to bed, the sun will be up soon.”

  He nodded. “Good night, Divya.”

  She stared at him for a beat. He looked down at his phone. Guess there was nothing left to say.

  “Good night, Ethan.”

  Six

  She spent a restless night, despite the silky sheets and firm bed. She woke up hot and frustrated and dreaming of the kiss with Ethan. She could’ve sworn he was attracted to her. They’d had that moment on the plane and then again in the alley, before they were interrupted. Why was he pretending like they weren’t hot for each other?

  She took a long shower, slipped on jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed a light jacket and put on her heels from the wedding outfit. They hurt like hell but at least they fit. She mapped out the nearest athletic-shoe store. She peeked out of her room to see Ethan sitting at the bar. A room service cart sat in the middle of the room. So much for avoiding him.

  “Good morning,” she said breezily. He was dressed in jeans and a baby blue polo that made his eyes look like the color of a cloudless sky. Her heart thumped loudly, but she ignored it.

  He gave her a big smile and his eyes raked over her. Her stomach flipped.

  “Good morning. I didn’t know when you’d be up, so I ordered you a bowl of fruit.”

  She looked at the fruit and scrunched her nose. “Is there anything real to eat?” She picked up the phone and ordered eggs, pancakes and bacon on the side.

  Ethan raised his brows. She gave him a challenging look. “Do you have a comment on my order?”

  He shook his head and held up his hands. “I’m impressed. I don’t think I’ve met a woman who likes to eat a real breakfast.” He held out a piece of bacon from his own plate and she took the peace offering. She poured out a cup of coffee for herself. Yet another thing she loved abroad—coffee. She liked her masala chai and the instant whipped coffee in India, but there was something intoxicating about the smell of good brewed coffee.

  “You’ve been hanging out with the wrong women.”

  “I certainly have,” he muttered so quietly under his breath that Divya wondered if she’d heard it or imagined him saying it.

  “So what’s the plan for today?”

  “I’m going shopping, and then I have lunch with Rajiv and Gauri.”

  “Am I no longer invited to lunch?”

  No, you are not. I plan to ask Rajiv to help me lay low for a few days and then go home. It’s time for us to say goodbye.

  “You can come if you want to,” she said indifferently.

  “I’ll plan on it. While you’re out shopping, you might want to pick up something for tonight.”

  “What’s tonight?” she asked, unable to keep the curious interest out of her voice.

  “I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

  He wanted to come to lunch with her friends and then take her to dinner? What was he doing?

  “There’s one more thing.” He pointed to the couch.

  “What?” Her hand flew to her mouth to keep from screaming. On the couch was a Martin guitar case. Her mouth hanging open in shock, she stepped to it and unbuckled the latches. Lying inside was a handmade acoustic guitar with a maple-gloss top and rosewood back and sides. She picked it up reverently.

  “This is the top-of-the-line Martin guitar. How did you even know that I play acoustic?”

  “Someone showed me this trick where you look up someone on social media and then search their friends’ pictures to find out information that might not be on their own pages.”

  “How did you get this here so quickly?”

  He shrugged. “This is New York. Not a lot you can’t buy here in short order.”

  Especially when money is no object. She ran her hands over the wood. Her guitar at home was a Martin, but she didn’t have the latest model. She picked a few strings, then began tuning it w
ith expert hands. It was only when room service showed up at the door that she realized she’d been lost in the guitar. She hadn’t even thanked Ethan.

  After the waiter had taken the old cart and left a new one, she stood and went to Ethan. “I love the guitar, but I can’t accept it. You’ve already done much too much for me, and you don’t even know me.”

  He shrugged. “Money...”

  “I know, money doesn’t mean much to you but it’s also the time you’ve taken to be with me, to fly me across the country, to search for the perfect guitar for me...” Her voice cracked.

  How dare he do the most perfect thing in the world for her?

  “Did I do something wrong?” he asked and she felt a tear slide down her cheek.

  She shook her head, unable to speak through the big lump that had lodged in her throat.

  “What is it?” He reached over and brushed the tear from her cheek, his touch so light and gentle that her chest squeezed even tighter.

  “It’s...” She struggled to find the word in English. Aaapnapan was the word in Hindi. Someone who treated you like their own, someone who knew you better than you knew yourself. He seemed to understand what she needed at a level that even her family didn’t.

  “Would you like to hear one of my songs?”

  He grinned. “I’d like nothing more.”

  She strummed a few strings to test out the guitar, then sang one of the love songs she’d written. Her eyes closed, and the words bubbled up from deep in her plexus. It was a song she’d written for her brother Sameer when he was in a bad place. It had helped heal him and her. Ethan wouldn’t know the words in Hindi, but they were what she needed to hear.

  My heart doesn’t know what to feel, my lips don’t know what to say, but I’ll be okay. I know I’ll be okay because you’re with me. I don’t know what I want, I haven’t for a while, but as long as I have you, I have hope of better things to come.

  When she was done, there were fresh tears on her cheeks. It was as if something had burst open inside her. Promise me, Divya, that if we get through this, we’ll stop living for our parents and start living for ourselves. She had forgotten that hospital-bed promise she and Sameer had made to each other.

  “Wow, that was incredible.”

  She opened her eyes to see Ethan staring at her. “You’re just being polite, you didn’t even know what the words meant.”

  “No, but I could feel the pain in your melody, the hope in your voice.” He paused. “What was the song about?”

  She put the guitar in the case. “A couple of years ago my brother Sameer was in a bad accident. His whole body was broken. We weren’t sure if he’d survive. I wrote this song for him. It is about hope and about not letting your fears stop you.” She closed the guitar case and turned to him. “I think I’m going to give that record company guy from Café Underground a call. I’ll ask Rajiv if he can put up with me for a few weeks so I can give this music thing a shot.”

  “I already asked Roda to check out that guy, plus I’ve put feelers out among my friends. Somebody will know an industry contact. And my jet is at your disposal. Whatever you need.”

  “We hardly know each other. Why are you doing all this for me?”

  He shrugged, then he looked out the window like he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Maybe it’s because you’re the first person I’ve met for whom I seem to be able to do something right.”

  There was so much longing in his voice that she wanted to hug him and tell him all the ways in which he was a great guy. But something held her back. He hadn’t wanted her to kiss him. Maybe friendship was all he wanted to offer, and she didn’t want to mess that up.

  She poured him a cup of coffee from the room service cart and handed it to him. “Thank you. For everything. Now, let’s eat this cold breakfast.”

  The rest of the morning went by in a blur as she shopped for some basic items. When she returned, she donned a cream silk shirt with dark blue–patterned pants. She let her hair loose and swiped some makeup on her face. Ethan had changed into dress pants and a collared shirt. He whistled when he saw her, and she couldn’t help but smile. She’d put a little extra effort into her appearance.

  They met Rajiv and Gauri in the hotel lobby.

  “Divya, oh my God!” Gauri was petite, about five feet tall with large luminous eyes. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail. She wore a black dress and dangling diamond earrings. Divya hugged her back. Rajiv had a town car waiting, which took them a few blocks down the road to one of the most exclusive French restaurants in the city.

  At first they stuck to safe topics like politics, religion and money. But inevitably, her runaway status came up during a dessert of Grand Marnier soufflé and pistachio crème brûlée.

  “So what mysterious plans did you have last night?” Gauri asked, throwing a suggestive look at Ethan. He nearly choked on his espresso.

  “I was tired and went to bed early. Ethan had some business to take care of.” She could feel Ethan looking at her, but he kept quiet.

  Gauri narrowed her eyes at Divya but didn’t say more.

  “So, what’s the plan exactly?” Rajiv asked. “Your parents and Arjun have been calling everyone you know.”

  Divya shifted in her seat. “I just want some time for my family to cool off, then I’ll go home. I emailed Arjun to tell him that I’m safe.”

  “Yes, thank you, you used the hotel business center, and he tracked the IP address to New York and grilled me. You know I owe your brother a lot. I feel very bad lying to him.”

  Divya felt a pang of guilt. “I’m so sorry to put you in this position. We’ll leave.”

  “You can stay as long as you need,” Rajiv said halfheartedly. “I’m only saying there may be a better way of handling things.”

  Rajiv and Gauri looked at each other, then Gauri spoke up. “Look, Divya, I know we’ve been out of touch, but we were good friends once, so I feel I should be honest with you.”

  Ethan stiffened next to her.

  “If you two are together, that’s fine. We can accept that. Rajiv’s brother married an American, and our family dealt with it. But this hiding is not good. It’ll be hard for your family to accept Ethan if you continue on this way. He already has a reputation, and well...” Gauri trailed off as Divya shot her a murderous look.

  Ethan didn’t deserve to be attacked for her decisions. “Ethan and I aren’t together. He accidently crashed the wrong wedding and I used the opportunity to run away. All he’s been doing is helping me hide.”

  Gauri raised her brows. “Then, what are you still doing together? He’s done his job. You are safe with us. Why is he staying with you?”

  “I’m right here, you know,” Ethan said quietly, but the anger in his voice was clear. “What Divya and I do is our business. We appreciate your hospitality, but we’ve clearly outstayed our welcome.”

  Divya winced. Ethan didn’t know her friends and didn’t understand that they were just looking out for her. His tone had been unnecessarily harsh.

  Gauri reached out her hand and grabbed Divya’s, clutching it as she turned toward Ethan. “Please, don’t take it the wrong way. We are only concerned about our friend. It’s in our nature to speak plainly. We didn’t mean to offend.”

  “I know you didn’t, and your point is well-taken. I will think about it,” Divya said soothingly. She held up her spoon, eager to ease the tension around the table. “This crème brûlée is to die for.”

  After they were finished with lunch, Gauri cornered Divya when they returned to the hotel. Ethan looked at Divya, and she nodded to him, so he excused himself and went to the room.

  “Divya, you know the rumors going around about you and Ethan.”

  She nodded. She had resisted the urge to google their names, but she could only imagine the media storm that was raging.

  “What are you doing wi
th him? If this continues, you will never get a good rishta, and your reputation will be ruined forever. It’s not like you to be running around with a strange man. Especially not a gora.”

  Divya took a deep breath. Every Indian parent with a daughter of marriageable age was on the hunt for a good rishta, a suitable match for their child.

  “I don’t want or need a good rishta. And Ethan is a perfect gentleman. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you? There might not be anything going on between you now, but I see the way he looks at you. It’s only a matter of time before he makes a move, and then what’ll you do?”

  Jump his bones. The thought of Ethan making a move on her made her warm all over.

  “I can take care of myself,” she said cagily.

  “Listen, Divya, I know it feels good to be out and about by yourself. To not have rules or restrictions. But trust me, Ethan is not the right man for you. He’s hot, no doubt, but he’s not marriage material.”

  “Why not? Because he’s American?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly why. Rajiv’s brother is married to an American woman, and let me tell you, it’s like lunch was today.”

  “What was wrong with lunch today?”

  “We had a polite conversation. We didn’t talk about anything real. I didn’t get to tell you that Rajiv’s parents are really upset with my sister-in-law because she traded in the family jewelry they gave her for their wedding for something more modern. We didn’t get to talk about how your parents are going to react when you go back. That’s how it is in my house. We talk to his brother and sister-in-law about meaningless things, like they’re strangers. There is always an awkwardness when you don’t marry someone from your culture. And look, when I did try to talk about something real, he got angry.”

  “You were a little rude.”

  “I was being honest. But that’s how it is. If he had been Indian, he wouldn’t have taken offense like that, he would have understood where we were coming from.”

  Divya sighed. Why was she even having this conversation with Gauri? It’s not as though she and Ethan were together or that she was even thinking about him in any serious capacity. Yet she felt an anger inside her and wanted to defend the idea that they could have something real.