Page 23 of Pillow Talk (Rally Romance #1)

She could have pointed out that if working in the shop was actually a paid job, she could have bought her own sewing machine, but arguing with her grandmother was unheard of and she wouldn’t have dared.

Instead she cried. She cried from the moment her grandmother put up a ‘for sale’ message on the noticeboard at the local supermarket until the person who bought it whisked it away one rainy afternoon.

Her mother didn’t want to get involved, so Shona didn’t have her on her side, and her father gave up after just one conversation with her grandmother.

He didn’t even try to convince her to let Shona keep the sewing machine.

They weren’t hard-up for money. Where was the harm in allowing her granddaughter to have it?

The memory of her calculating, cold grandmother had completely ruined her mood. Anni obviously sensed it.

‘Your dad did eventually get you your own sewing machine,’ she said quietly.

‘I suppose that’s fine,’ Shona murmured, her voice lacking conviction.

‘Let’s choose your outfit and accessories so we can pig out on pizza,’ Anni said, sitting up.

Shona followed suit, but at the back of her mind, she was still hurt that her father had bought her her own sewing machine months later and that he hadn’t fought for her to have the other one. Or maybe he was just tired of fighting his mother; she knew the feeling only too well.

Sen wouldn’t admit it to his mother but he was actually looking forward to taking Shona to the wedding. Poor thing didn’t know she was going to be formally introduced to his family. He didn’t want to scare her off but felt guilty for throwing her into the lion’s den.

He arrived at her apartment an hour before the wedding. He wore work suits every day, so he’d decided to change it up a bit by wearing a Sherwani suit. The elegant black coat, buttoned at the neck, hung just below the knee and was paired with matching black pants.

He rang her doorbell and heard Shona humming a tune as she approached the door.

When she opened it, Sen was speechless. His heart did that damn flip again. His mouth was dry and all he could do was stare at her.

Shona was wearing a wine-coloured sari with a black lace border.

The blouse was made of the same black lace.

Her hair was pulled back, with her mass of curls twisted into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck.

Her makeup was expertly done. Her lips were a softer tone of her wine sari.

She was stunning. He couldn’t look away or find any words. This woman was his.

‘I’m ready,’ she said.

Sen snapped out of it.

‘You know we could just stay home. Mylen may get married again. We could just skip this wedding and go to his next one,’ he said.

Shona pushed him back playfully, stepped out and shut her door.

‘Stop it. We’re going,’ she said.

He leaned in and sniffed her neck.

‘As long as I get to unwrap that sari later,’ he whispered.

She raised an eyebrow and pulled him towards the lift.

They arrived at the venue 35minutes later. It was at a hotel set on top of a hill in Grayston. The view was spectacular but not as stunning as Shona. Sen couldn’t stop looking at her.

He ushered her out of his car and they walked towards the venue. Sen’s grandfather spotted them just as they entered.

‘Senthil and beautiful Shona, hello my sweet children,’ he said.

Sen shook his head, almost imperceptibly. His grandfather was laying it on a bit thick. Shona didn’t notice the mischief in the old man’s eyes.

‘Hello, MrAiyer,’ she said sweetly. Sen shook his head again. Sweet Shona. He wanted to laugh. There was nothing sweet about her.

‘Ah, there are your parents,’ his grandfather said pointing to the couple, who were at the drinks table in the foyer.

Sen groaned under his breath. His grandfather’s eyes sparkled like Christmas had come early.

Sen led Shona towards his parents and, as they approached, his father’s face broke into a broad smile.

‘Dad, you’ve already met Shona. Shona, this is my mother.’

His mother, looking elegant in a dark blue sari, looked at Sen and then at Shona.

‘Hello, Shona. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,’ she said politely.

Shona managed to utter an acceptable greeting.

Sen’s mother turned her eyes back to him. He widened his eyes at her but she wasn’t taking a hint.

‘Shona, I’m impressed with the way your business is going. Designing a Harpers dress is a major coup,’ his father said.

‘Thank you, MrAiyer,’ she replied.

A woman in a floral sari approached them.

‘I’m so sorry to interrupt but are you Shona Shah?’

Shona nodded nervously. Sen placed his palm on her back, a move his mother did not miss. He instantly removed his hand. Seriously! This was ridiculous, he thought.

‘I’m Jenene Anthony. You made my veil last December. You couriered it to me,’ she explained.

Shona’s eyes lit up. ‘Jenene, I remember. How was it – the wedding?’

Jenene smiled widely.

‘You were right about the first look,’ she said.

Shona laughed.

‘Told you.’ Then she turned to Sen and said, ‘And I told you too.’

‘We were kids. And I still don’t believe any of it,’ he teased, bumping her shoulder. Would his mother stop staring at him!

Jenene said her goodbyes and his family, together with Shona, made their way into the venue for the wedding.

The wedding was grand. Shona couldn’t find a better word to describe it.

It was loud, flashy and far too expensive for Shona’s liking.

As someone who catered for the wedding industry, she knew that couples went all out for their weddings.

After all, it was a show of their love, devotion and everything else but Shona secretly didn’t like it.

She didn’t expect brides to skimp on their wedding dresses, but some things were just ridiculous and a complete waste of money.

Case in point: the personalised wine glasses that every guest at this wedding was given to take home.

Why would she want to drink wine out of glasses with the names of Sen’s cousin and his bride engraved on them?

The gesture was sweet but it wasn’t something she would go for.

Anni’s wedding had been simple, but that had a lot to do with her having only Shona’s family on her side.

She had no other relatives and, with just a handful of friends, she wanted something intimate.

At first Sam’s mother, who was very much like Sen’s, wanted her son to have a big wedding with all the expensive trimmings, but when Sam sat her down and told her about Anni’s background and wishes, she immediately let go of the reins and allowed Anni to have her own wedding on her own terms.

Shona wondered if Sen’s mother would do the same – not for her of course because she wasn’t marrying Sen.

But one day when he met the one, would she easily give up the reins?

It shouldn’t have bothered Shona, but the thought of someone else marrying Sen didn’t sit right with her.

Maybe the wedding was affecting her or maybe it was because Sen’s parents were being too nice to her.

She’d expected a cool reception. Instead, what she got was kindness and even Sen’s mother was happily introducing her to relatives as ‘Senthil’s special friend’.

‘You’ve really made a name for yourself, Shona. It’s clear your business is doing very well,’ Sen’s father complimented her again as they ate their meal.

‘Thank you, MrAiyer. It’s a lot of work but I’m happy with the way things are going,’ she replied.

He nodded and reached for a roti from the stack on the table. His wife swatted his hand away and pushed the dish of basmati rice towards him.

MrAiyer’s shoulders slumped and he helped himself to the rice with an expression that made it clear he thought it was the worst food on earth.

Sen sneakily pushed a roti towards his father while his mother glanced back at the stage where the bridal couple was accepting congratulations from the guests.

‘I heard you and Senthil participated in a fun walk recently,’ his mother said, turning back to Shona. Humour filled her eyes.

‘We tried to but there was an age restriction,’ Shona said.

His father and grandfather chuckled at the same time. Their mannerisms were so similar that it wasn’t hard to see that they were father and son.

‘I told Senthil that it was a kids’ event when he popped by the night before but he wouldn’t listen,’ his mother said.

Shona put down the spoon she was using to eat her biryani and turned to Sen, who was looking everywhere else but at her.

‘You knew but still made me get up at 5.30am for a kids’ race?’

‘But we did end up having an early start to the fabric warehouse, so it’s a win-win, right?’ he countered.

‘And I scored a ride there too, so I guess it was worth it then,’ she replied.

‘Hey! I thought you enjoyed my company but it seems you’re using me as your chauffeur,’ he teased.

Shona was about to reply, but she realised the sound of the cutlery clinking against plates at the table had faded. Sen’s family had been watching their interaction with interest.

She awkwardly picked up her spoon.

‘I do have my driver’s licence but having a car just didn’t seem sensible because the shop is within walking distance to where I live.

But now that my business is doing well, I may start looking around for a car.

I don’t want anything as flashy as Sen’s because…

well not that there’s anything wrong with flashy things but I prefer something small but then I may need space for fabric but not something big like a truck because I’m not great at parallel parking.

I still don’t know how I passed my driver’s test because I suck at parallel parking.

’ Shona was babbling and she couldn’t stop.

‘But there aren’t many parallel parking spots in Rally so I think I’m safe, right?’

She looked at Sen to help her but he just grinned.

‘I like being your chauffeur,’ he said.