Chapter 10: The Parental Invasion
[System Notification: Sudden Quest — 'The Great Indian Parent Ambush']
The morning sun in Lonavala was deceptive. It looked peaceful, golden, and serene—a complete contrast to the sheer panic currently vibrating through the farmhouse.
I had just managed to escape Ananya's grip on the guest bed and was sneaking into the main suite to grab my toothbrush when I heard it. The sound that haunts every Indian child's nightmares.
The frantic honking of a Maruti Suzuki horn.
"No," I whispered, freezing in the middle of the room. "No, no, no."
I dashed to the window. Down in the driveway, two women were stepping out of a taxi with the confidence of high-ranking generals entering a conquered territory. Mrs. Sharma and Mrs. Khanna. They weren't just here; they were here with tiffin carriers, extra suitcases, and enough gossip to power a small city.
"Ishaan!" I screamed, lunging for the bed where he was still half-asleep.
I didn't think. I just jumped. I landed right on his chest, my knees pinning his arms down.
"Ishaan, wake up! The mothers are here! The Mothership has landed!"
Ishaan's eyes snapped open. For a second, he didn't look panicked. He looked... dazed. His hands instinctively flew to my waist to steady me, his grip firm and warm even through his sleep-muddled state.
"Meera?" he rasped, his voice deep and thick with sleep. "If this is a dream, don't wake me up. But why are you shouting about mothers?"
"I'm not joking! Look!" I pointed frantically at the window.
He sat up abruptly, bringing me with him so I was practically sitting in his lap. He looked out the window just as Mrs. Sharma pointed up at the balcony and waved.
"Oh, crap," Ishaan muttered. "The lie. The 'business trip.' The fact that we are currently in one room and Ananya is missing."
The Three-Minute Scramble
[System Notification: Countdown Initiated — 180 Seconds to Impact]
"Hide the extra pillows!" I hissed, rolling off him and frantically smoothing the sheets. "It has to look like we didn't share a bed, but also like we did share a room because we're 'working' late, but—oh god, what is the cover story?!"
"Meera, breathe," Ishaan said, though he was hurriedly shoving his gym bag into the closet. "Ananya! Get in here!"
Ananya stumbled in from the side room, her hair a chaotic mess of London-style curls. "Why are they here?! I haven't practiced my 'I'm-a-successful-CEO' face yet today!"
"They're at the elevator," I whispered, pressed against the door like a spy. "Ishaan, shirt! Put on a shirt that doesn't scream 'I just woke up next to my childhood crush'!"
Ishaan grabbed a crisp white linen shirt, buttoning it with lightning speed. I watched his fingers move, my brain choosing the worst possible moment to admire his dexterity.
"Meera, your hair," he said, reaching out as he finished the last button. He tugged a stray ribbon from my hair and smoothed a lock behind my ear. His touch was brief, but his eyes were steady. "We can do this. Just follow my lead."
Ding!
The elevator doors opened.
The Interrogation Begins
"Surprise!" Mrs. Khanna chirped, sweeping into the room followed by my mother. Both of them were already scanning the suite with the precision of forensic investigators.
"We just couldn't stay away," my mother said, her eyes landing immediately on the rumpled bed. "We brought parathas and achar. We thought our hard-working children would be starving."
Mrs. Khanna walked straight to Ananya, pinching her cheeks. "Look at my daughter. So pale! This 'Tech Hub' is draining you. Is she working too hard, Ishaan?"
Ishaan stepped forward, sliding his arm naturally—and very dangerously—around my shoulders. He pulled me into his side, his thumb hooking into my collarbone.
"She's a machine, Aunty," Ishaan said, his voice smooth and professional. "In fact, we were up until 3:00 AM looking at the topographical surveys. Meera and I were just... discussing the foundation stability."
"In your pajamas?" my mother asked, her eyebrows arching so high they nearly hit her hairline.
I felt a cold sweat break out. "It's... a creative process, Mom. Inspiration doesn't follow a dress code."
Mrs. Sharma walked over to the bed and picked up something from the floor. My heart stopped. It was my earring. The one that had fallen off during the "almost" moment last night.
She looked at the earring. She looked at Ishaan's arm around me. She looked at the single bed.
"Aunty," Ishaan said, his voice dropping into that serious 'Doctor' tone that always made the neighborhood ladies trust him. "The truth is... the rooms were overbooked. We didn't want to worry you, so we decided to share the suite to save the project's budget."
"Share?" Mrs. Khanna gasped, her hand flying to her chest.
"Strictly professional!" I shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly. "Ananya had the bed. Ishaan had the couch. I... I slept in the bathtub! It's very ergonomic!"
Ishaan choked on a laugh. My mother looked at me like I had grown a second head.
"The bathtub, Meera? Really?" Ishaan teased, his eyes dancing with mischief as he tightened his grip on my shoulder. "I told you the floor was more structural."
"Enough jokes," Mrs. Sharma said, her eyes narrowing. "Since we are all here, we've decided. We aren't leaving until the first brick of this 'headquarters' is laid. We've booked the room across the hall for the week."
Ananya's face went a ghostly shade of white. I felt Ishaan's hand stiffen on my shoulder.
The "Business Trip" had just become a "Family Lockdown."
[System Notification: Difficulty Level Increased — Hard Mode Unlocked]
[Author's Corner]
THEY ARE STAYING FOR A WEEK?! 😱 How is Ananya going to fake a whole tech hub with her mom watching her every move? And how are Meera and Ishaan going to survive being "Strictly Professional" while sharing a suite under the gaze of theAunties