Aarti tapped at the bedside table until the offensive noise stopped. Through the sheer curtain, dawn glimmered in the east. The nondescript room looked much like hers except for the chef’s coats and pants lying rumpled on the floor. Jo’s. And Jo’s arms in which she’d awakened.
Jo groaned and held her tighter. “Five more minutes. I’ll help you shower, for speed, of course.” She kissed her shoulder.
Aarti swatted her hip. “Liar. I’m on to you.” She rubbed her eyes. Despite her intentions to jump out of bed, Jo’s hand caressing her side lulled her into relishing a few more moments. She’d savored plenty the night before, and the amazing memories came rushing back, accompanied by a new twinge of arousal. It would have to be ignored until later. Aarti turned toward her, and losing Jo’s warmth along her back made her shiver.
Jo kissed her. “Good morning.”
“Mmm, it is.” Aarti grazed her teeth over Jo’s lower lip. “I’d love to stay and do more of this, but I can’t.” As she sat up, the contents of Jo’s open duffel caught her attention. “Wow. How many pairs of socks did you think you’d need?” Bright, funky colors and designs filled half the bag.
“I like to have choices based upon my mood. Same for my bandanas. A chef’s uniform is boring, so I spice mine up.” Jo flashed her a sheepish grin. “No pun intended.”
“My mother’s expression was priceless when she saw your socks when you arrived.” Aarti smiled in remembrance. “Which ones are you wearing today?”
“How about,” Jo leaned over the edge of the bed, “these.” She dropped a rolled pair into Aarti’s palm.
“Purple eggplants?” Aarti covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no. Please tell me you won’t.”
“But look.” Jo unrolled them and held them up. “The ones around the ankle have googly eyes.” She erupted in a fit of laughter. “Your eyes are enormous right now.”
Aarti shook her head. “You’re awful. Even if my mother doesn’t get the joke, others would.”
“What do you mean? They’re eggplants. I’m a chef.” Jo’s grin pulled her mouth to one side before she leaned over again. “These would be appropriate for today.” She handed Aarti a pair of bright red and brown socks.
“Peanuts?” Aarti unrolled them but found no googly eyes or other surprises.
Jo flopped back on the bed, her arms crossed behind her head. She didn’t appear self-conscious of her half-naked state, and Aarti let her gaze roam. The view was delightful.
“You know, because elephants like peanuts.” Jo wore a proud expression.
“Ah, such a comic.” Aarti rolled the socks and tossed them at Jo’s stomach.
Jo made no move to catch them, and they bounced off her abs, reminding Aarti how firm those muscles had been under her touch. Damn, she needed to get out of this bed.
“Well done. I’m impressed. Now I,” she leaned close to kiss her one last time, “need to shower. Next door. Alone.”
Jo watched as she searched for her clothing. “When do you get dressed up? I assume you’ll need to change and have your hair and makeup done, right?”
“I scheduled time. My assistant has worked on a few events with me, so she’ll handle anything that comes up while I’m changing or with the stylist. I’ll apply my makeup.” She buttoned her shirt, pulled on her pants, and balled her bra and underwear in her hand.
“Come here.”
Aarti tilted her head. “I really need to go, and I’m not sure of your intentions.”
“One more kiss. I promise. It’s going to be torture without being able to look at you or touch you all day.” Jo extended her hand.
“One kiss, and no innuendo. I need to trust you.” Aarti came closer.
Jo curled her fingers around the back of her neck, and the kiss almost had Aarti ripping off her clothes and leaping back into the bed. It hadn’t lasted thirty seconds, but she pulled away breathless, almost wishing she’d said no and left. Jo could kiss, and she couldn’t afford to be rendered so defenseless, not now.
“I can’t wait to see your outfit.” Jo licked her lower lip in an absentminded sort of way. “Dress or pants? No, wait. Don’t tell me. I want to be surprised.”
Aarti retrieved her phone from beside the bed. “I doubt it’ll be what you expect.”
“I expect you’ll look gorgeous, but I’ll behave myself and keep my glance quick. You could text me a selfie, or better yet, stop by the kitchen and ask why I chose rumali roti when it’s so time-consuming to make.” Jo wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll give you a very detailed answer while I appreciate your attire.”
“You’ve put some thought into this.” Yet she warmed under Jo’s appreciative scrutiny, even while standing in yesterday’s clothing. Again, what did Jo see in her? “Keep in mind I’m not the typical wedding guest. Even though I’m Maya’s sister, I’m working, so I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
Jo ran a hand through her hair, a glimmer in her eyes. “Not possible, Dr. Singh. Not even remotely possible.”
* * *
Aarti glanced at Maya, who sat on the bed. The room had been Maya’s since their parents had built the home in the Hamptons. Maya’s hands shook. Beside her, their mother seemed unsure what to do.
Aarti keyed her walkie. “Bree, I need a bottle of water. Oh, and ask the chef to make a pitcher of iced tea and bring it up. Hurry with the water.”
“Okie-doke. Roger, over and out.”
Aarti cringed. While over the top at times, at least Bree got things done.
While waiting, she glanced around. Unlike her quarters, Maya’s room looked like a field of wildflowers had exploded, even on the lacy curtains. Jackson was staying in what had been Aarti’s old room. With its off-white walls and simple blinds, it was as uninteresting as her. She’d used the guest cottage for the last ten years because of the view and its privacy, something she valued even more this week. But now was not the time to fixate on why she appreciated no prying eyes.
Aarti regretted barking orders at Bree, something she never did. But they hadn’t had a bride hyperventilate from a panic attack either. Now her primary focus needed to be making sure the two wedding ceremonies occurred.
Her mother rubbed Maya’s back. “Just breathe.”
Maya needed time and a dose of logic, both of which Aarti would provide. The three of them sat quietly for a bit.
Maya’s ashen face and terrified expression contrasted with the festive designs covering her arms and feet. She twisted the comforter between her fingers. “What if I’m making a mistake?”
Their mother scoffed. “It’s normal for a bride to feel this way. I was a mess before I married your father.”
“But after today, it’s official, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” Maya wailed the last word, and tears rolled over her cheeks.
Aarti touched her leg. “You’re just nervous and stressed, darling. Try not to cry, or your eyes will swell and be red in your photos. Remember, you love Jackson, and he loves you.”
“What do I have to be stressed about?” Maya gestured at her. “You’re taking care of everything. How are you not stressed?”
Aarti’s stomach churned. She hadn’t been expecting this from Maya. This delay threw off her entire schedule, but unless she got Maya to come around, it wouldn’t matter if things happened on time. There’d be no wedding.
Bree ran in out of breath, her blond ponytail swinging, and handed Aarti a bottle of water. “Chef said she’ll make tea. The linens just arrived, so I’ll be downstairs. Call me on my walkie if you need me.”
Aarti thanked her, and Bree closed the door behind her. “Here, drink this.” Aarti uncapped the bottle and pressed it into Maya’s hand. “This is what I do. I’m not stressed because I have a solid plan, I realize unexpected things happen, and I’ll do my best with what I’m given. I’ve had no major hiccups yet, and you will not be my first. The two of you spent more than a year imagining this, incorporating traditions that mattered while making it all your own. No one will ever have a wedding day quite like yours. You’re just nervous, sweetheart, and I’m sure your gorgeous husband-to-be is, too.”
Her mom studied Aarti, but her dark eyes provided no clues to her thoughts.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Maya sniffed, then laughed. “He’s usually the emotional one, and I’ll hide your favorite stethoscope if you tell him I said that.”
“There’s no shame in having nerves. It’s emotional. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t hold the same meaning.” She tucked Maya’s hair behind her ear. “But you two adore one another, and you’re going to have the most amazing day.”
Maya smiled, her sniffles turning to hiccups. “Yeah, we are, aren’t we?”
Her mother mouthed the words “thank you” from Maya’s other side.
Pride suffused Aarti. It had been some time since she’d impressed her mother. Would this be the first step toward mending their relationship? She luxuriated in the feeling while Maya tried to tame her hiccupping.
Someone knocked, and Maya called, “Come in.”
Jo peered around the door. “Hi, I hope I’m not intruding. I brought tea.”
Aarti stood, moving bottles of perfume to make room on the dresser for the tray. When Jo set it down, her heart sank. After solving one issue, Aarti was about to have another. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother stand.
“That’s not iced tea.”
Jo smiled, but it wasn’t the same easy-going smile she gave Aarti. This one looked forced. “No, I made iced chai for you instead. Would you prefer black tea?”
Her mother inspected the glass pitcher, picking up the long metal spoon and stirring the contents. “I prefer my chai hot.”
“I don’t.” Maya rose and poured herself a glass, splashing tea onto the tray as ice cubes rushed over the rim of the pitcher. “You should drink some, Mom. It’s already warm in here.”
“Yes. Why is it?” Her mom fanned her face.
Jo stepped forward to pour her a glass, and Aarti held her breath. Her mother held very strong opinions on her favorite drink, and no one ever made it right, Aarti included. She’d long ago quit wondering why her mother continued to order it from places she knew would disappoint her.
“Where did you find chai? I thought I was out.” Her mother’s eyebrows had formed a V.
Jo handed her the glass. “I didn’t. I made it.”
Her mom paused, the glass halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
“From scratch, with the spices you had and those I’d brought or ordered.”
Jo shrugged as if to say it hadn’t been a big deal, and Aarti was sure it hadn’t been.
Maya made a noise, and Aarti looked at her. Her eyes had nearly rolled back in her head. “That’s fantastic.” She pressed the glass to her cheek. Her hiccups had subsided.
Her mom turned to Jo. “You know, if you add spices, technically that makes it—”
“Masala chai, yes. I should have said that, and I used whole milk like they do in India.”
Her mother’s expression softened, though she still held the concoction in midair. “Well.” She took a sip, her eyelids fluttering, then swallowed, licked her lips, and stared at it. “That’s rather good.” Another drink followed. “Yes, that’s very good. Not too sweet. Sometimes I order it and worry I’ll have a cavity by nightfall. Did you toast the spices?”
“Yes, in a skillet for speed. It sounded like you were…” Jo glanced at Maya, then to Aarti, her eyes wide like she’d realized she shouldn’t mention Maya’s breakdown. “Parched.”
Maya twirled her hand in a small circle. “Yes, I was having a moment, but I’m fine now. This helps.” She added more to her glass.
“I prefer toasting them in a pan.” Her mother drank a sizeable mouthful and closed her eyes as if to savor it. She made a smacking noise. “Delicious. Is that lemongrass?”
“It is.” Jo seemed to grow two inches.
This was going far better than Aarti had expected. She was afraid to move and break whatever spell Jo had cast over her mother.
“Would you like some?” Jo picked up the third glass.
“How can I not after the rave reviews?” One sip told Aarti why her mother and Maya were acting like toddlers experiencing their first taste of ice cream. “They’re right. It’s very good.” Not too sweet, creamy, and spicy. Addicting. She couldn’t look at Jo. If she had, everyone in the room would see her starry-eyed admiration and more.
“I should get back to the kitchen.”
Jo made it as far as the doorway before her mom spoke from where she’d perched on the edge of the bed. “Jo? It’s Jo, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Dr. Singh.” Jo nearly stood at attention.
“Or do you prefer Chef…” Her mom waved her fingers as if trying to recall Jo’s surname, not that she’d ever known it.
“Samuels, but Jo is fine.”
“Call me Vidya.”
Aarti consciously closed her mouth.
Her mother gestured to the nearly empty pitcher. “Could you please bring more of that around in an hour? It’ll be twenty degrees warmer in here with the stylists and their equipment.”
Aarti almost interjected. Jo wasn’t here to wait on them, but when she glanced at Jo, she appeared so elated. And her mother had said please. Plus, who was Aarti to judge? She’d just ordered Bree around in the same manner. Perhaps she wasn’t so dissimilar to her mother after all.
“I’d be happy to, Vidya.” Jo picked up the tray.
“Here. Top me off.” Her mother held out her glass. “No reason to waste that.”
Aarti stared at the ice cubes floating in the top of her drink until Jo had gone. How surreal.
* * *
Aarti surveyed the enormous, three-peaked tent with its stunning ocean view and the hundred-plus guests dining beneath it. She’d scheduled an intermission and light meal between services so the staff could transform the décor from the pale pastels of the midday wedding to the bright colors of the Hindu ceremony.
From her quick foray through the tent, she’d heard nothing but delighted comments about the food. Two long buffet tables on each side held an array of small bites. She’d admired the tempting finger foods, including many vegetarian options. Even the pickiest eater would find something delicious.
An attractive woman in a wheelchair caught her eye. So did the striking woman with long, dark hair pushing her. Aarti recognized Taylor from their one face-to-face meeting and then Erin from the few times she’d seen her on television. They were a very good-looking couple.
“You made it.” Aarti took in Taylor’s cast and wrist splint, then the gorgeous diamond on her left hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, thanks. The meds help. This is my wife, Erin Rasmussen.”
“It’s a pleasure. ” Aarti motioned to the lawn. “I’m sorry you have to navigate over the grass.”
Erin smiled and toyed with Taylor’s hair. “I don’t mind. It’s a good arm workout.”
“I can assign one of the staff to help you.” Aarti glanced around to see if any of them were available.
“Thank you, but we don’t need to do much moving around.” Erin rested her hands on Taylor’s shoulders.
Taylor covered one of Erin’s with hers. “I wouldn’t mind touching base with Jo after she’s finished with the reception. I’m sure she’s in the thick of it, but so far, I think she’s done a better job than I could’ve. I hope you feel the same.”
Aarti didn’t want to reveal her true opinions of Jo, so she stuck to the safe topic of the menu. “The food has been fantastic. My entire family is going to lose their minds over her Indian dishes. Consider increasing her salary now before some of them band together and poach her to be their private chef.”
Taylor beamed. “I’m so glad. This whole situation,” she waved at her cast and splint, “made me feel terrible about not being able to do this for Jackson and Maya.”
“You’re here for them today, and that’s what counts.” Aarti glanced between them. “I hope to see you two on the dance floor tonight. Make Jackson teach you how to do a wheelie.” She gave them a fond smile, promised to chat with them later, and headed for the house.
After telling the same staff member for the second time where the flowers from the Christian ceremony should be kept, she headed for the kitchen. As she passed the mirror above the entryway table, she smoothed her saffron-colored suit.
“Aarti, what’s your twenty?”
At times, Bree got a little too excited about using the walkies.
Aarti keyed her mic. “Main house.”
“We have an issue.” Bree sounded breathless. “They’re erecting the canopy for the mandap, but they can’t get the trellis inside the garage because it’s too tall.”
“Have them leave it on the side.” She assessed her hair in the mirror. The stylist had done a marvelous job, and a finishing dose of extra-hold spray had made sure nothing had moved. Would Jo like her hair up like this? It differed from her usual ponytail, especially with the soft tendrils framing her face.
“That’s where they’re readying the elephant.”
“Oh, right. Behind the garage then. If that doesn’t work, have them store it next to the tennis court near the stand of trees.”
“Got it.” Bree sounded relieved.
Aarti hadn’t seen Jo since Maya’s incident. While she shouldn’t bother her, she couldn’t help herself. And Jo had wanted to see her attire. With a palm on her chest, she tried to steady her breathing.
When she entered the kitchen, a flurry of activity greeted her. Jo had her back to her, shaking a pan of something on the stove. Geri skewered miniature sandwiches with toothpicks and cherry tomatoes, stabbing them with dizzying speed.
Larry burst in from the outdoor kitchen. “Fresh ones.” He slid a hotel pan of something fried on the end of the island.
Jo turned and saw Aarti. Her eyes widened, and she fumbled the sauté pan. It clattered to the floor as she danced her feet out of harm’s way. What looked like sliced almonds dotted the tile.
A guy from the catering team had just slipped behind. He spun, and his mouth dropped open. “I’m so sorry, Chef. I should’ve said behind.”
“It’s fine. It was me.” Jo turned the burner off and bent to retrieve the pan.
“I got it, Chef.” He grabbed a handful of paper towels.
Jo handed him the towel she’d been using to protect her hand from the heat of the pan’s handle and stepped around him. “Did you need something?”
“I wanted to speak with you. First, you’ve chosen to serve rumali roti when it’s time-consuming to make. Why?”
The corners of Jo’s mouth twitched. “Rumali roti, yes.” She licked her lower lip as she slowly took in Aarti’s attire. “Many cooks find it finicky, but all it takes is practice. I’ve made hundreds of them in a single day. My host mother even gifted me a tawa for my birthday. I decided a wedding of this caliber deserves such a delicacy.” Jo didn’t make eye contact with her until she finished. Intense eye contact.
Aarti’s skin probably emitted as much fiery orange as her outfit. She forced a swallow. “I also noticed an issue with something you’ve stored in the pantry.” Even though she hadn’t raised her voice or intended it to sound accusatory, those in the kitchen scattered and found a task that seemed to need their undivided attention.
“The pantry?” A divot appeared between Jo’s eyebrows.
Aarti opened the frosted glass door and motioned her inside. She followed and closed it behind them.
“There’s no issue in the pantry, is there?” A slow smile formed on Jo’s face. “And wow, you look fantastic.” She took another appreciative glance at her outfit.
“Oh, there’s an issue.” Aarti was conscious of how little time she had and how badly she needed this. Backing Jo against the shelves, she cupped her face and kissed her. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”
Jo grasped her hips, keeping a few inches between them. “I might have food on my apron. I don’t want to ruin your sexy suit.”
Aarti pressed their bodies together. She needed to feel her. “I don’t care. I’m taking it off soon.”
Jo groaned. “You are?” She slipped a leg between hers. “Why?”
“This is what I wore for the first ceremony. I’m changing soon for the second.”
Jo’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, you didn’t tell me this was only the appetizer.”
Pure desire laced their next kiss.
“Hey.”
They jumped apart at Bree’s voice in the small space. It was Jo’s walkie, not hers, Aarti discovered when they pulled them from their pockets.
“I’m in the tent. The south buffet is out of crab rangoons, Chef, and both are out of fondue.”
Jo quickly kissed her. “I gotta go.” She keyed her mic. “Rangoons are on their way.” With a step around Aarti, she exited the pantry. “Fondue is five minutes out.” Jo slipped the walkie into her pocket, motioned to a member of her crew, and shoved the hotel pan at him. “Take these to the south buffet and refill the chili sauce. Geri, I need that fondue stat.”
“It’s ready, Chef.”
For a few seconds, Aarti watched Jo manage her team. It appeared Jo had forgotten she was there, but Aarti doubted it. The lingering tingle would remind her, and hopefully Jo, of their kiss for some time. Yet, many hours remained before Aarti could claim the event a success and hurry to the cottage and into Jo’s bed. She slipped out the side door. First things first. A wardrobe change was in order.