Page 39 of Behind Frenemy Lines

I was starting to feel a little less overdressed. Charles waited for me to pass through the revolving door before following me into the hotel lobby. The floors and pillars were tiled in shining black-and-white marble. An ornate chandelier lit the room. Charles seemed in his element.

Maybe that was the difference between people who grew up rich and the rest of us. The wealthy were used to the staff being better dressed than them. They’d never be challenged about their entitlement to be in a place because they were wearing the wrong shoes. The shoes didn’t matter—so long as you could afford any kind you liked.

The woman at reception said, “Oh yes, you’re the best man? The brides are doing photographs in the Tower Suite. We’ll let them know you’re joining them.”

“I can wait down here,” I said to Charles.

“Come on up,” said Charles. “Loretta will want to see you.”

I hesitated. It didn’t seem the moment for a stranger to intrude. Surely Charles’s cousin wouldn’t want her wedding photos to include a random Indian girl he wasn’t really dating.

But Charles was twirling the badminton racquet in his hand, at real risk of beheading a potted plant or smashing a vase. I realised he was nervous.

“Sure,” I said gently. “I’ll come.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Charles

Plan was forLoretta and Hayley to have their “first look” photos in the suite, capturing the moment they saw each other in their wedding clothes for the first time. An intimate moment: just the two of them, the photographer, the photographer’s assistant, the videographer, and the videographer’s assistant.

The brides had done all their looking by the time we got there. Room was full. Loretta’s parents were there, along with a white couple—a slim grey-haired woman and a burly red-faced man. Hayley’s mum and dad, presumably.

Hayley was glowing in a huge white dress, looking like a bride in a magazine. And Loretta, but not everyday Loretta. Loretta in makeup (weird), with her hair up (weird), and dressed in something other than a sweatshirt and tracksuit bottoms (extra weird).

A friend had made her outfit—Hayley and Loretta have a lot of friends who know how to sew, it comes from all the cosplay. She was wearing a cheongsam-style top and fitted trousers in a sheeny off-white fabric embossed with flowers, with purple jade buttons across the chest and up the ankles. And gold heels. Loretta never wears heels.

Nothing about the outfit was like anything Loretta usually wore. Yet somehow she looked more herself than ever, like someone had turned her Loretta-ness up to eleven. Looked happy.

Was on the verge of embarrassing myself, by welling up or something horrific like that. But everyone’s jaws dropped as we came in, and I remembered I’d already embarrassed myself in a different way.

Loretta and her mum: “Charles!”

Ah Yi, in Cantonese: “What is that you’re wearing? Why haven’t you changed for the wedding? It’s starting in an hour’s time!”

Was worried for a second. Pretty sure my costume was accurate. Had confided in Hayley, and she’d enlisted the help of their cosplay seamstress friends. One cosplay friend had even sent me a step-by-step guide to hand-painting the racquet so it’d match the one in the series. (Did it on a Saturday morning. Loretta never gets up before eleven on a Saturday.)

But this was the first time Hayley, or anyone, was seeing the results on me.

Hayley: “Oh my God. Charles… you’reattractive.” Clapped her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I said that.”

My eyes slid to Kriya despite myself. She looked amused.

Loretta, hollowly: “No, no. I see it too. He lookshot.Why’d you do this to me, Charles?”

CG: “I thought you’d find it funny!”

All parents present looked baffled. Loretta’s dad the only one who seemed to have got a sense of what was going on. Unfortunately, he tried to help.

Yi Cheung: “Maternal cousins, in Chinese culture they can get married. It’s not considered a stigma. The surname is different. If the surname is the same, that can be an issue.”

Loretta was blinking the way women do when they’re wearingtoo much makeup to cry. Looking up at the ceiling, she said: “Ba, are you saying it’s not too late for me to swap Hayley formy own cousin?”

Ah Yi, to me: “Now, you see, she’s upset! What are you doing, going to play sports on the day of your cousin’s wedding? You can play badminton any day!”

Loretta, sweeping her palms under her eyes: “It’s OK, Ma, stop scolding him. I’m not upset, I’mtouched.Come here, Charles, let’s take a picture!”

She flung her arms around me when I got to her. Smelled familiar.

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