Priya in Heels (Entangled Embrace) Read Free Page A

fingers, or the dressing container, for that matter.
    “Are you going to survive there, heifer?” Tulsi asked.
    “I haven’t eaten all day! I’m still hungry.”
    “How do you eat so much and stay so skinny?”
    “I work out. A lot.”
    “You know, Indian men like a little meat,” Jeeta interjected. “You’ll never marry a good man being that thin. And Indian men don’t like women who go to the gym all the time.”
    “Oh my God, will you be quiet about being a good Indian woman,” Tulsi snapped. She’d obviously been drinking and appeared to be bored with us girls.
    “Don’t talk to her like that.” I glowered at her in Jeeta’s defense. Tulsi’s behavior often warranted a good verbal smackdown, but I wasn’t in the mood for a fight.
    Tulsi rolled her eyes, pushed away her chair, and stood in a sexy, rap video-ish kind of way. The good lord had blessed her with a Latina’s butt and boobs, and she wasn’t shy about showing them off in skinny jeans and a V-neck tank top.
    The instant she stood, at least five guys dropped everything to gawk.
    “I’m going to dance. See you girls later!” She beamed, and just like that, she was happy again.
    Guys flocked around her and the crowd engulfed her. She was lost to the rhythm and sway of an adrenaline-infused, music-loving horde.
    Actually, the band did rock. I craned my neck to get a peek, but couldn’t see them on stage without getting up.
    “I guess I should get going. I have mandir in the morning,” Jeeta said and slurped the last of her water. She was religious and traditional, and every Sunday morning at eleven, she was at mandir , devout and studious in her worship.
    “Thanks for coming out!” Vicki hugged her from across the table.
    “Bye, honey,” I said.
    “Good night,” Jeeta replied and left.
    “Did you get any interesting cases?” Vicki asked, switching chairs so we sat closer to one another.
    “You know I can’t say.”
    “No cute guys walk into the ER begging for some doctor lovin’?”
    “Um, no.”
    Vicki frowned. “Wanna dance?”
    “Oh God no.”
    “Come on, you never dance, yaar !”
    “Because I have two left feet. Besides, I’ve been on my feet all day!”
    Vicki slouched and watched the dancers longingly.
    “You go, I’m okay.”
    “Nah.”
    “Just go. I’m happy to sit and eat.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. And that cute guy over there has been eyeing you!”
    Vicki glanced at the Indian man three tables away. He was dark, had glasses and a thick mustache, and wore a striped shirt stretched over a puffy belly tucked into khakis.
    “ Eww !”
    We laughed.
    “I’m going that way, near the stage. Where Tulsi is, I know hot guys must be.” With those words, Vicki tried to saunter away, but in those hooker boots, her ambling didn’t look natural. It amazed me what a woman would wear to look good, even if it killed her.
    I ordered cheesecake and actually ate the entire slice, waving off a few guys who tried to get between me and my food.
    The waitress planted another cherry vodka on the table and cleared the rest.
    “I didn’t order that.”
    “The gentleman on stage ordered it for you.”
    I looked past the throbbing mass of dancers as a few heads moved in and out of the way to reveal parts of Tyler. The music changed gears, from slow and enchanting to soulful and sexy. The voice changed, too. I craned my neck to see who sang now, because this man’s voice was amazing. I was surprised to find out that the voice belonged to Tyler. The way his lips moved as he belted out an amazing rendition of an Usher song as he sat in his chair made my legs weak, which said a lot because I was sitting, too!
    “Oh, I can’t accept this. Please tell him that.”
    “Already paid for.” The perky waitress hurried off to another table without another word.
    The drink looked so inviting, sitting all alone with a newly refilled water glass next to it. Water beads skittered in choppy slides down the outside of the