Jia leaned back against her headboard and played with the cord on her sweatshirt as she waited. The piece of handkerchief Dev had turned into a makeshift ring lay next to her.
I wouldn’t mind it.
Yes, exactly what every prospective bride wanted to hear regarding marriage to her. Yikes.
The problem was, when he’d first proposed a real proposal . . . she really hadn’t minded it, like kind of wanted it? And that was, um, a very big problem. Because all he could say was that he wouldn’t mind it.
He said some other stuff too.
Her brain couldn’t focus on that, though. It was the equivalent of reading one negative comment and eighty positive ones. The negative one stuck with her long after the others.
The computer chimed and she straightened. Only one window popped up, her middle sister’s concerned face filling the screen. Sadia’s cheeks and breasts had rounded with her pregnancy, just like they had when she’d been pregnant with her first child, Kareem. Her middle sister was so pretty, with smooth brown skin and shiny hair that tumbled past her shoulders. She wore a tank top, which displayed her impressive assets. “What on earth is going on,” Sadia began, and Jia gave a half wail.
“Uh-oh.” Sadia leaned in close. “Baby, take a deep breath.”
“I can’t. I messed everything up.” She blinked back her tears. She would not fall to pieces, not yet.
“You didn’t. Granted, I’m just getting briefed on the whole story, but I’m on your side.”
If only she had time to spill the whole sordid story to her sister.
“Do you want to be engaged to this guy? Does he want to be engaged to you?”
He didn’t mind it. “Yes.”
“Well, then, there you go.” Sadia leaned back in her chair. “Sounds like the two of you are on the same page.”
“It’s not that easy—”
“Why not?” Sadia shook her head, her hair swishing. “Sometimes, when you take out the noise, life can be exactly that easy.”
Jia picked at her nails. “I wish I could do something without drama.”
“Then you wouldn’t be you.” Sadia gave her a soft smile. “And I think you’re pretty wonderful.”
Jia took the cocoon of acceptance and nestled into it. Sadia was right. Why couldn’t things be simple?
Her phone buzzed again, and she sighed. Oh right. That was why. “I’m on your side,” Sadia murmured. “I won’t let them browbeat you.”
Truly, middle daughters deserved hazard pay. “Okay. Let’s patch them in.”
Sadia saluted her, and three more windows popped up, full of all the women in Jia’s family, plus her dad, brow furrowed, leaning over her mother’s shoulder. Ayesha sat next to her mom.
Jia braced herself.
“Jia, what on earth . . . ?”
“You didn’t tell us?”
“So irresponsible—”
“Everyone calm down, let her—”
“We don’t know him.”
“You didn’t want an engagement party?”
“I had a new dress I wanted to wear.”
“I’m sure there’s a good explanation.”
“Jianna, this is too much,” her mother broke through. “The whole family is talking. And you don’t even answer our calls or our texts, so we have had to look foolish. What is this engagement? We have not even met him yet!”
“Now, now,” her father said, with far more calm, though Jia caught the thread of worry in his usually soothing voice. “I am sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why the news is saying Jia and this Dixit boy are engaged.”
They all quieted and looked at her with varying degrees of worry and accusation. Jia took a deep breath. Out of sight of the camera, she let her fingers creep to that piece of fabric.
He could have been fooling her. He could claim tomorrow that he didn’t even know her. I wouldn’t mind it.
“Because we’ve been talking about becoming engaged,” she said calmly.
The call erupted again, and this time even her father spoke a little louder than usual. She raised her hand, and she was gratified that they all quickly quieted. “Look, I know this feels sudden, but as you can see, Dev and I have been talking for a while.”
“Talking. You’ve barely been in his presence for less than a month,” Noor pointed out.
“Right, well, it’s not a formal engagement. His people jumped the gun a little. He was planning on asking Mom and Daddy’s permission first.” Dev’s suggestion had been the wisest, she’d decided. She didn’t want her parents to hate her fake fiancé.
Real fiancé?
“What a gentleman,” Sadia broke in, rubbing her round belly. Jia wondered if the gesture was a subtle reminder to her parents about what was at stake if they did turn their backs on her.
“He is,” Jia said in a rush. “We have so much fun together. He’s a really kind person and good with his niece. He’s not stuck-up, and he’s very self-sufficient and down to earth for someone who is as famous as he is.” All true things.
And I want to kiss him.
She’d keep that one to herself.
“Speaking of famous,” Sadia interjected, “I’m surprised you’re mad, Mom. You cut me off when I married someone who had zero dollars to his name. Now that Jia’s with a rich guy, you’re mad about that, too?” Oh, Sadia was definitely reminding their parents of their past behavior.
Seeing as how her sister didn’t love confrontation, Jia was grateful beyond words.
Mohammad lowered his head. Their mother drew herself up. “We were wrong to do that, but our objection to Paul wasn’t that he wasn’t rich, it was that your life would be hard with him, and we didn’t want that for any of our girls. We don’t know this Dev enough to know whether he will be good to Jia. She barely knows him.”
Ayesha lifted an eyebrow. “People get married after knowing someone for far less time. I’m probably going to have an arranged marriage eventually. Mom, Daddy, you met and married in the same week. So why is this so different?”
Jia felt a rush of affection. Ayesha had every right to be concerned about this sudden news, given that she knew everything, but her twin was rolling with the shenanigans. “What Ayesha said.”
“Because our families knew each other,” her mother snapped back. “It is not at all the same thing.”
“I’m meeting his grandmother in a few days, so that’ll be taken care of,” Jia said.
Zara leaned forward. “His grandma’s coming there?”
“Yes.”
“Shweta Dixit is coming to America?” Noor clarified, then coughed.
Jia eyed her eldest sister with concern, but nodded.
“Then we’ll come there, too,” Farzana said crisply. “We can move up our trip. Mohammad, call the airline.”
What the . . . “Wait, wait, there’s no need to do that.”
“There’s every need.”
“We’ll all come,” Zara announced.
Oh no.
“Sadia and Noor cannot fly right now, and you must stay here to look after them,” Mohammad said firmly. There went the hope that her father would talk some sense into her mom.