Page 65 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

“So do I, but I know it doesn't just work on command like that. Even if she thinks you might find your true love one day, I doubt she'll be content to leave you cursed till then.” Aaliyah gave Deepa’s shoulder an encouraging rub through the silk. “And you never know. Roz could still pull through for you.”

Deepa’s face did something complicated, causing Aaliyah to pull back.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Deepa lied. “She really couldn’t make it today, and she wouldn’t have been able to help much regardless.” She drew the robe closer around herself. “My mother likes her,” she said in a small voice, as much to distract Aaliyah as to impart the truth of it.

Aaliyah took the bait. “Don't worry about this curse business,” she said kindly. “She's your mother. I'm sure she’s seen you in worst states than this.”

“I’m not sure I’ve been in worse,” Deepa replied, but Aaliyah was right. Having exhausted all other sources, it was time to turn to her mother’s wisdom.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

IN WHICH A LEOPARD IS OFFERED UNCONDITIONAL LOVE AND A LECTURE

Upon receiving Deepa’s uncharacteristically meek call, her mother came to her flat straight away, sitting with her until midnight while Cherie worked the club below.

“I didn’t want to waste your time on this,” Deepa muttered, squirming with embarrassment and unable to meet her mother’s eyes as she kept busy, brewing them each a tea.

“Silly girl,” her mother chided from the loveseat. “Ridiculous. How can I enjoy a night off knowing you are here alone, upset? You need me. Of course I will be here.”

“I wanted to deal with it myself, without bothering you.”

“It is no bother,” her mother countered, accepting her mug of tea and patting the empty cushion at her side for Deepa to join her. “I know how hard you work, trying to make enough money to support the both of us at once, as if I do not have aperfectly good job myself. It is not my daughter’s job to support her mother like this, hm? Not while I am still perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

“You should have better than what you’ve got,” Deepa said into her tea.

“Maybe I should have better. Maybe I deserve worse. But I have exactly what I have, and I am content with it.” Reaching over, she stroked Deepa’s hair, smoothing a tiny flyaway curl off her cheek and behind her ear. “I admire your spirit,” she said gently. “Such fire, such hunger, always fighting for more and better. But you don’t have to improve my life when I am happy with the work I do. You should not be setting yourself on fire to keep me warm.”

“It was working, though. I was managing it.”

“Anyone can manage anything up to a certain point. Now, tell me about this curse. Who did this to you?”

“A man.” Deepa rolled her eyes dismissively, underplaying her fear and anger. “He says the only way to break it is with true love’s kiss. So far, that seems accurate. Nothing else I’ve tried has worked.”

“And you are not closer to finding love?”

“Obviously not.”

“But you have been trying,” her mother surmised. “Introducing me to your friend? Rosaline? Don't make that face,” she added. “You cannot hide such things from your mother. I was surprised at first, yes; it is not a traditional match, looking for that sort of love with a woman. But then, Cherie has told me about the men who court you. They may be rich, some even handsome, but they do not seem the sort of men I would trust to treat my daughter as she deserves. I know they flatter you and bring you gifts, but a marriage should not be built on such a shallow foundation. You can do better. And then I thought, if those are the men in your life, perhaps it is best thatyou turn to a woman and see what she has to offer instead.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry it was not enough love to break your curse.”

“I can't imagine what will be,” said Deepa. “I don’t even believe in true love.”

Her mother tutted. “A shame. Are you still seeing Rosaline?”

“We had a falling out.”

“And?” her mother prompted with a frown.

Deepa took a long drink of her tea, unwilling to elaborate.

“You cannot finally introduce me to someone and then refuse to tell me anything more about her,” her mother warned. “You think I cannot make you talk? After all this time I’ve waited?”

“I only have to hold out until midnight,” Deepa said around the rim of her mug. “After that, I’ll be a leopard again, and I won't be able to tell you anything even if I want to.”

“And when you are a leopard, you won’t be able to talk back to your mother.”

Deepa snorted inelegantly into her tea. “I suppose that’s true. The communication barrier has been frustrating, at times. The only night I was able to get around it was with Roz. She took me dreamwalking — you know, like Auntie Sita used to do when you were children — and I was human there. But I haven’t been able to do it without her.”

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