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“The restaurant looks amazing,” Lisa said. She glanced mischievously at Dina. “I heard you had some help this afternoon.”

Kulsoom nodded, businesslike. “I told Hania to arrange for delivery, but I guess she forgot. She’s fortunate you could step in and help out, Dina. Thank you for saving the day.”

“Don’t forget Lucky’s contribution. I heard he moved a few statues all on his own. Maybe with his shirt off? You don’t happen to have a picture, maybe some CCTV video . . .” Lisa trailed off hopefully.

A faint smile crossed Kulsoom’s face. “I was a little busy, trying to make Hania’s vision a reality. Though as I recall, Lucky kept his shirt on the entire time.”

“Damn,” Lisa said.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Kulsoom said, winking at Lisa. She turned to Dina, giving her a quick once-over. “That dress will look great during your performance. Nice choice.”

Dina paused in her application of eyeliner, blinking at Kulsoom in the mirror. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘performance’?”

Kulsoom whipped out a clipboard and passed a finger down a detailed itinerary. “You and Arshad go on right after Hania’s friends. We’ve got the song cued up for you, so you won’t have to worry about that.”

Dina felt dizzy and sagged against the counter. “Song? Um, I’m not sure what you mean—”

The wedding planner patted Dina’s shoulder. “It’s normal to feel nervous, but Arshad told me you’ve been practicing for months. Hania knows already, of course, but she will act surprised, and I know her online audience will love it. A choreographed dance from the bride’s sister is expected, and I’m glad you volunteered. This is really nice of you, Dina. Just don’t forget to smile.” Kulsoom exited the bathroom before Dina could respond. She stared after her and then looked at Lisa, eyes wide.

“The Arshole strikes again,” Lisa said. “Did I ever tell you I can’t stand that man?”

“He never told me about a dance. Neither did Hania. Is this some sort of joke? I have no rhythm,” Dina said, panicking.

“You really don’t,” Lisa agreed. “I saw you at the airport. I thought you were having a seizure.”

“I hate being in the spotlight.” Dina was babbling, frantic. “Why would Arshad do this to me? There must be a reason.”

Lisa shook her head. “You’re giving him way too much credit. He’s a toxic narcissist. He probably didn’t think beyond the glory of having all eyes on him during the dance. He never thought about you at all.”

Dina slumped. Her friend was right. Arshad only ever considered how things would impact him. Then again, her ex was no fool, and he rarely did things impulsively. She hadn’t forgotten what he had said at her house, a warning of things to come: “You will owe me.”

Did he mean dancing with him at the mehndi? Dina doubted her ex-husband would let her off so easily.

Watching her now, Lisa interjected. “You’re overthinking this. I bet Arshad promised Hania something for the greater glory of himself and forgot to tell you about it. The real news story here is Hot Lucky and how we’re going to get you alone with him tonight.”

Dina smiled at her friend and shook her head fondly. “No hookups. No Arshad. And definitely no dancing,” she said firmly before picking up her eyeshadow palette and leaning closer to the mirror. “I’ll talk to Arshad and clear it all up. It won’t be a problem.”

Chapter Eleven

It was definitely a problem. Dina had been trailing after Arshad from the start of the mehndi, but her erstwhile spouse seemed particularly adept at avoiding her tonight. He would make his excuses when she joined the circle he was chatting with; he ducked into the men’s room when she tried to corner him in the appetizer line; he got a call when she reached for his elbow in the receiving line. If she didn’t know better, she might have suspected he was avoiding her. Except Arshad wasn’t really the avoidant type; he was too oblivious to consider anyone else’s feelings besides his own. Still, when he eluded her for the fifth time, she was left to consider her choices. Perhaps her sister would have some answers.

Hania was camped out in the anteroom, waiting to make her big entrance once all the guests had arrived. Dina assumed Samir was doing the same, likely accompanied by Lucky, which explained his absence. Not that Dina had wondered where Lucky had gone, of course.

Her sister was relieved to see her. “Dina, where have you been?” Her sister’s lilac mehndi outfit looked expensive and glittered in the dull lights of the small room, made smaller by the company of the A girls, who resembled a royal guard in their matching green dresses.

“Flirting with Lucky,” Faiza muttered, and Dina threw her an exasperated look.

“I spent most of the day setting up for your party,” Dina said, pointedly. “Since none of your besties were willing to lift a finger.” She stared at Faiza until the younger woman looked away with a pout.

Hania waved a hand, dismissing Dina’s efforts. “I need you by my side. Next to Kulsoom and Ambreen, you’re the only one I can count on.”

The words were sweet, and Dina felt a momentary flash of warmth. Hania was usually sparing with her praise. “What do you need?” she asked.

“Kulsoom checked in with you about your dance, right?” Hania’s eyes were huge, outlined in dark kohl and framed by heavy lash extensions, and Dina didn’t know where to look.

“Right, about that, actually, Arshad must have forgotten to . . .” She trailed off as she realized that Ambreen was leaning close, her phone camera aimed at Dina’s face. “Do you mind? This is a private conversation.”

“No such thing. Hania knows what Vogue Arabia expects,” Ambreen said, moving closer to Dina’s face. “Everything is content at this wedding.”