Planning
1387 Words
“Amir, do you expect Aunty Anjali and me to plan the entire wedding all by ourselves?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.
He adjusted his collar with practiced ease. “Well, I’ll take care of the Nikah ceremony, the officiant, my wedding suit, and I already have someone in mind to organize the bachelor party. Beyond that, you have free rein to plan the wedding however you like.”
“Anything I want?” I tilted my head, testing him. “What if I decide on a ridiculous Disney Aladdin theme?”
Amir’s lips curved into a smirk. “You do know Aladdin is historically inaccurate? Sheherazade’s original tale was actually set in China.”
“It’s still a good movie,” I shot back. “And you said I had free rein.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, then burst out laughing. “Honestly, Aladdin was one of my favorite films growing up. That genie was the best. So, if you really have your heart set on an Aladdin theme, you have my blessing. But maybe save the Jasmine outfit for our wedding night.”
The sly wink he gave me sent butterflies tumbling through my stomach.
“I was just messing with you,” I admitted, though my cheeks warmed. “But honestly, I don’t know where to begin. I was raised Catholic, and even though I’m not religious, I always imagined getting married in a church. I’m not sure about a Nikah ceremony.”
Amir’s tone softened but remained firm. “I’m not against an interfaith ceremony, but we must have Nikah.”
“Maybe this was something we should have discussed before getting engaged…” I muttered.
“Our engagement isn’t exactly typical,” he replied dryly.
Before the tension could thicken, Aunty Anjali clapped her hands together.
“Hey, you two are engaged and will be married soon — that’s what matters.” She pulled a stack of glossy wedding magazines from her bag and spread them across the table like a fan.
I snatched one with a whimsical cake on the cover. Cake was the best distraction, and it worked.
“Thanks, Aunty Anjali. This is great foresight. I’m already inspired. This fairy‑tale cake is straight out of my dreams!”
Amir glanced at the four‑tier cake and shrugged. “It needs more tiers.”
“How many more?” I asked, raising a brow.
“At minimum, ten. Otherwise, we’ll look stingy.”
“Angels will cry when they see our cake — it’ll be so massive and beautiful.” I laughed.
“That’s what I want to hear,” he said, kissing my cheek before slipping out of the room. “Fatima will help with logistics. She just got married and has great insight.”
As soon as he left, Anjali leaned across the table, her eyes sparkling. “You two are so cute together, it’s obnoxious.”
“Thanks… I guess?” I replied.
She grinned. “Sooooo…?”
I blinked. “Soooo what?”
“Dish! Tell me everything.”
I sighed. “There’s not much to say. Elias started giving me lead roles in major projects. I thought it was because I was proving myself as CFO. Turns out, Aunt Alma was setting me up to take the fall for money laundering, fraud, forgery, and theft. The RCMP were ready to arrest me, but luckily I escaped by running off with Amir.”
Anjali raised a brow. “I can't believe Elias would do that to you of all people. Especially with the way his tongue would hang out when you enter the room... And his twin brother, Bodhi? Honestly, the three of you were borderline incestuous.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re not related by blood. Do I have to remind you that they were adopted?”
She smirked. “Is that what you told yourselves whenever I caught you three kissing? You took ‘kissing cousins’ to the next level.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks as memories surfaced. “We were young and dumb. And you know how charming they can be.”
“You’re still kinda young and dumb,” she teased. “Honestly, I really thought that you’d end up with one of them. Of course, my money was on Bodhi. Elias was far too serious for you.”
I sighed as I thought about my twin cousins. The three of us were a V.C. Andrews novel come to life, but Amir managed to turn my head completely upon our first meeting.
“Bodhi did offer to run away with me to Costa Rica. And then Elias texted me at 2 AM, saying we could fight the charges together just a night ago.” I admit. “But I turned them both down.”
“Because of Amir?” she pressed.
“It’s simple. I’m in love with him.” I confess.
Her expression softened. “Oh, I get it. Amir’s got that tall, dark, and handsome thing on lock. And I may be a bit biased — this all‑expenses‑paid trip abroad doesn’t hurt.”
I chuckled, but her next words were whispered, serious. “Are you really ready to get married? And live in Saudi Arabia for the rest of your life? You do know they only just started letting women drive in recent history.”
I exhaled slowly. “It’s been on my mind. But what can I do? Aunt Alma still wants me to go down for her crimes.”
Anjali sighed. “Then lets plan the best wedding in two weeks...”
Her earnest face made me giggle, and soon we were laughing together.
“If it wasn’t clear before, I want it clear now,” I said. “Aunty Anjali, will you be my maid of honor?”
“D’uh! Of course!” she grinned. “Only positive vibes flowing.”
That was why I loved her — she was always down for anything.
We hugged across the table, then dove into dress talk.
Anjali handed me a catalog. “Mermaid, ballgown, trumpet, A‑line… you need a budget.”
“For a self‑proclaimed hippie, you really know your stuff,” I teased.
“Hippies dream of weddings too,” she said. “I’ve always pictured myself barefoot on a beach in a crazy Givenchy gown.”
We laughed until Amir re‑entered, carrying a thick leather filo‑fax.
“What’s the budget for the dress?” I asked.
“There is no budget,” he said simply. “Get whatever you desire.”
“Does that mean I could actually get a Vera Wang?”
“Not with the time crunch. Go to the boutique in Riyadh. Fatima swears the dresses are gorgeous.”
He handed me the filo‑fax, brochures spilling out. I picked one up for Dubai.
“Travel agents? For the honeymoon?”
“Yes, and more. If we want to party, the wedding will be in the UAE. Rules are more relaxed there.”
My eyes lit up when I saw a Ritz-Carlton brochure. “Then I want the Ritz‑Carlton in Dubai. It’s breathtaking.”
“As soon as the venue is booked, everything else falls into place,” Amir said. “I’ll send tickets to your family.”
“You've met all my family and there's no way they'll attend without trying to get me arrested, but there a couple of friends I'd love to invite. But do you think they’ll accommodate us on such short notice?”
“I’ll make it happen,” he promised.
I grinned. “Amir, you should ditch oil and become a wedding planner.”
Anjali laughed. “Follow your bliss!”
Amir looked alarmed, which only made us laugh harder.
He snatched the brochure from my hands. “After you two witches are done cackling, pick your dresses. I’ll book the Ritz‑Carlton.”
I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you, Amir! I had my doubts before, but I love being your fiancée.”
I kissed him, passionately, ignoring Anjali’s gagging noises.
“With you,” Amir murmured against my lips, “I never had any doubts.”
- Writer
