“If either one of you tells anyone, I’m going to chop you into little pieces and pass you through a mulch shredder,” their sister threatened.

“Who let her watch Fargo?” Vansh asked, and Neel looked heavenward.

Ignoring the question, Nisha disengaged herself from her husband and threw her arms around India. “I’m so sorry you’re stuck with my evil brother,” she said with the kind of gleeful affection that indicated exactly how thrilled she actually was that India was stuck with their brother. Then she noticed that Naina was also there.

Until this moment Vansh had believed that Nisha had inherited their mother’s talent for absolute discretion. Nisha had a veritable toolbox of expressions under which she hid anything she didn’t want others to see. But a blast of such extreme discomfort and confusion at Naina’s being here flitted across Nisha’s face that she couldn’t seem to identify exactly which mask-expression to use to cover it up.

Nonetheless, she made a valiant effort. “Naina,” she said only the slightest bit late, and Vansh hoped Naina hadn’t noticed.

Letting India go, Nisha turned to Naina, unable to decide how to get away with not hugging Naina now that she had greeted India so effusively. Nisha obviously did not feel the same way about their brother’s ex as she did about their brother’s current girlfriend. Most of the family blamed Naina for trapping Yash in a loveless relationship for ten years.

“Great to see you, Naina,” Neel said, saving the day with his signature warmth and circuit-judge equanimity, and gave Naina a friendly hug. “I heard you’ve moved back to town permanently.”

“Sure have.” Naina returned Neel’s hug and then let Nisha give her a quick, and hella awkward, one.

Before the awkwardness could settle on them in earnest, Vansh noticed a bottle in Neel’s hand.

“Is that scotch in your gavel-wielding hands, Your Honor?” Vansh asked, raising a brow at their stickler-about-these-things sister. Nisha was the one who’d given strict instructions for a California-wine-and-California-bubbly-only party.

Nisha was about to charge at Vansh when more sounds drifted in from the corner of horny doom that his siblings had evidently withheld from Vansh his entire life.

Ashna and her boyfriend entered the alcove already in a lip-lock, which at least made it impossible to say something incriminating that the others could use to embarrass them for the rest of their lives.

“Does anyone have a glass?” Neel asked as though they were at a bar watching a game.

In what was now starting to feel like an overdone off-Broadway comedy, Ashna jumped away from Rico, who had his hands halfway up her very prim dress.

Vansh dumped out his remaining overpriced yet not nearly strong enough bubbly into the bushes and offered his glass to Neel, who poured a healthy serving from the bottle.