His training kicked in before he could get up and make a run for it. “Uh, namaste,” he said, folding his hands together.
The aunties smiled at him in approval.
“Hello, beta,” the oldest woman present said. She was wearing a maroon velour tracksuit, thick socks, and Adidas house chappals that smacked against the tile floor as she got up to retrieve a plate of samosas from the table. She shoved it in front of his face. “I am Kareena and Bindu’s grandmother, but you can call me Dadi. Would you like a samosa?”
“Oh no, thank you, Aunty—”
“Dadi.”
“Uh, no, thank you, Dadi. I’m fine—”
“Now, now—you must eat.”
She had a manic expression on her face, so Prem took the samosa. Damn it, he should’ve taken advantage of that coupon from Deepak’s lawyer and drafted his will.
A woman wearing matching slacks and a blouse with a slew of diamond and gold jewelry on her fingers and wrists spoke next. “Darling, my name is Mona Aunty, and all of us are very close to the Mann family. We helped raise Bindu and Kareena when their mother died.”
Every person in the room nodded.
Another aunty, this one with a kurta top and mom jeggings, spoke next. “I’m Sonali Aunty, and we have the best idea for how to save your reputation after your show last weekend. Because log kya kehenge if this continues?”
“Log kya—what will they say? Aunty, I think they’re already talking.”
They all nodded, and their expressions ranged from amusement to concern. What the hell was happening here? This was just too weird. Everything felt like a setup, but he didn’t quite know what the end game was yet.
“Now you just have to keep an open mind,” a third aunty said. This one had dark kohl-lined eyes and a streak of red powder in her hairline. “I’m Falguni Aunty, beta. Bindu, where is your sister?”
Prem’s stomach dropped to his gut. “Sister? Like . . . like Kareena?”
Everyone nodded.
Before Prem could get up and leave, the front door opened and a familiar voice echoed from down the hall. “Bindu, what is it? I’m busy.”
“Just get in here!” Bindu shouted back.
Prem was on his feet when Kareena entered the kitchen, dressed in pink overalls, with grease smudged across her cheek. She was pushing up her glasses with the back of her hand. He hated that despite everything she’d done to his career, and his chances at raising enough money for his center, he still found her breathlessly attractive. He cleared his throat to cover the wheeze.
“Are the aunties here?” Kareena said. “I just saw all the cars in the driveaway. Also, who bought the Audi? That’s such a pretentious—”
She froze at the kitchen entrance, her eyes going wide. Prem pointed a finger at her just as she did the same in return.
“What is she doing here?”
“What is he doing here?”
They spoke in tandem, and Prem had no idea how to process the twin feelings of lust and unadulterated rage clouding his brain. Despite the presence of aunties in the room, he really wanted to bend her over and spank her. Hard. And then leave her even if she wanted more.
“I live here!” Kareena yelled back. “You need to get out.”
“I invited him,” Bindu interjected.
“Then uninvite him. How could you?”
“I don’t understand why you’re so angry,” Prem snapped. “I’m the one whose reputation is literally in shambles because you came to my show and hurled accusations.”
Her gaze narrowed on his as if to say, We had a connection that one night and then you pulled my sweater over my head and left.
“You know what you did, asshole.”
“Listen, Rina—”
“It’s Kareena!”
“—Instead of letting me explain, you interrupted me in my place of business, hurled false accusations at me, started screaming like a churreyl, then assaulted me with Pedialyte!”
“Did you seriously just call me a witch?” she shrieked.
Prem leaned forward, shoving a finger in her direction. “And I’ll do it again because you sure as hell aren’t sweet and charming like you pretended to be when we first met. Or do you go to bars pretending to be chill until you can trap someone into believing in your warped vision of true love?”
Every woman in the kitchen gasped in horror.
“Don’t sound so shocked that I was at a bar,” Kareena snapped at her aunties. She pointed at each and every one of them. “I’ve heard you all talk about how you used to troll for men in Mumbai and Delhi. None of you all are as innocent as you’re pretending to be.”
“Not me,” Dadi said, patting a hand to her chest. “I was always appropriate, and Kareena, I expected the same of you.”
“Yeah, Aunty, tell her,” Prem said.
Kareena whirled on him. “I’m seriously going to kill you!”
“Why so hostile?” he taunted. “Is it because you finally realized that I’m right? That love is a bullshit excuse that women like you use when no one wants them?”
“That’s it, you’re dead.” Kareena lunged for him, and Prem dodged her. She jumped over a chair and chased him around the kitchen island. The aunties all stumbled out of their seats, shouting. Not like Prem could hear them. He was busy trying to save his package from blunt force trauma at the hands of a she-demon.
“If you hit me, I’ll hit you back,” he shouted from behind Falguni Aunty with Crocs. The woman let out a hysterical laugh.
“So much for being a gentleman,” Kareena said, and hurled what looked like a round ladoo at him. He dodged it and watched as it slammed against the wall and slid to the floor.
“Stop throwing things!” Dadi shouted.
“She started it,” Prem shouted back. When he reached the snack table and grabbed another samosa from one of the trays so that he held one in each hand.
“This is for the damn Pedialyte!” he shouted and chucked them at her. A fried triangle hit her square in the forehead and smashed flat like a pancake.
“Ouch!”
“Not the bloody samosas!” Sonali Aunty yelled from behind him.
He lunged to the left, then faked right, and went left again. Kareena grabbed a potato tikki and hurled it. Before he could dodge the flying disc, it hit him in the arm.
“You deserve to burn in hell, Dr. Phil!” she shouted.
“I thought the show was called Dr. Dil,” Dadi said over the chaos.
“She’s saying it wrong on purpose,” Bindu replied.
Kareena’s voice cracked as she shouted, “You’re setting women back decades. Using emotions to get in their pants but then claiming that love is an illusion, so you don’t have to commit to anyone. Aunties are going to think that everyone should go back to only having arranged marriages. Marriage should be about finding your perfect life partner!”
“Life partners?” He let out a humorless laugh. “Jeevansathis? You have got to be kidding me. Because of you, I’m going to dedicate every episode for the rest of the season to how people like you are delusional.”
She gasped, jaw gaping as she stood behind her aunties. “You wouldn’t dare.”