Page 54 of Lawfully Yours

“Of course, beta. I’ll send her right away,” Raj Verma replied warmly, all while navigating through the crowd in the living room, his eyes scanning for Sudha among the guests. But she was nowhere in sight, and the rest of the staff were either attending to guests or tied up with last-minute arrangements.

Just then, Kushal stepped beside him with a glass of scotch in hand.

“You look like you’re about to dispatch a search party,” he said coolly. “Looking for someone?”

Raj exhaled. “Arundhati needs a hand upstairs. But everyone’s busy here, and I don’t see Sudha anywhere.”

Kushal took another sip, his gaze flicking toward the staircase, something shifting in his eyes as he realised this was the moment he needed.With her!

“I’ll go,” he offered, casually but firmly.

Raj looked up, surprised, and oddly relieved. “Will you? That’s very thoughtful of you, beta. Thank you. Please bring her down soon. Everyone is waiting for the cake cutting.”

Without another word, Kushal set his glass down, straightened his jacket, and headed for the stairs.

When he knocked on the door, Arundhati opened it, expecting Sudha Aunty. Without glancing, she turned and walked back into the room.

“Close the door, please. And I need your help with this drape… just pull the pleats tight and hook it in. My arm isn’t cooperating,” she said, her voice slightly breathless, preoccupied with securing the half-draped saree that threatened to slide off her torso.

When silence answered her, she turned and froze, seeing Kushal there, standing at the doorframe, his eyes unapologetically trailing the length of her form.

From the way her blouse hugged her curves to the delicate, exposed dip of her neckline. Her saree hung loosely around her waist, not yet pleated or pinned, the fabric barely clutched to her chest. She clutched it tighter instinctively, cheeks colouring in sharp embarrassment.

“What areyoudoing here?” she snapped, flustered.

“You needed help,” he said, coming out of his trance and in an infuriatingly soft tone. “I heard.”

“I asked Uncle to send the Sudha aunty,” she said through gritted teeth.

He shrugged, stepping further inside with that trademark arrogance of his. “She’s busy. I’m here. I can help.”

“I don’t needyourhelp.”

He still shut the door with a soft click, locking it behind him. The action wasn’t loud, but it echoed in the heavy silence between them.

“Everyone’s waiting downstairs. Cake-cutting’s due. You are delaying this. We promised Raj Uncle we wouldn’t ruin tonight.”

“And you think me letting you drape my saree won’t ruin it?” she growled.

He gave a half-smile, the kind that always managed to get under her skin. “What’s so wrong about it? I’m not getting you undressed, but helping you dress up. Consider it professional courtesy.”

“We’re in the middle of a divorce, Kushal,” she snapped. “You can’t expect me to pretend like—”

“Ever heard of‘time please’back in school?” He interrupted her, walking close enough for her to catch the faint whiff of his cologne again. “In the middle of any game, when you say ‘time please’, all rules are temporarily suspended until you resume play.”

She shook her head, almost recalling.

“Let’s take a time please, Arundhati. Put a hold on our war for one night.”

“I’m not interested in playing any ‘time please’ with you. Just get out.”

He smirked. “Your uncle asked me to bring you down. I’m not leaving without you.”

She groaned, knowing she was really delaying everything, and she would have to try wearing the saree by herself without expecting to send more help from her uncle.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Then turn around.”

“Why?” he drawled, that devilish gleam in his eyes. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”