Forbidden Delights

Chapter Three

It's dark outside by the time that Lorelai and Arman return home, and the drive is illuminated by the warm light pooling out of the windows of their large estate. They were later than expected, caught up in their celebration, but the Champagne has done nothing to calm Lorelai's nerves.

Noticing Lorelai's unusual silence, Arman wrongly assumes that it is due to them being over an hour later than they were supposed to be. "Relax, azizam. The dinner isn't due to start for another hour; your mother won't be too mad."

Lorelai offers a quaint smile. "If you say so."

As the two open the front door and step inside, they are immediately greeted by the sharp bellowing of, "Arman Behnam Minoret, what time do you call this?!"

Anais Minoret strides towards them, looking beautiful in her emerald evening dress, with a face of fury. Lorelai winces as Arman smiles apologetically.

"I'm sorry, omram, we got caught up at the office," he kisses his wife on the cheek when she stops in front of the two of them, her arms crossed. "It's been a big day for our Lorelai."

Her mother softens at this, but only minimally. She is stubborn, after all — it's where Lorelai gets it from. "How so?" She questions.

"We'll discuss it over dinner," Arman promises, grazing the back of his hand down her upper arm before stopping and gently holding her elbow, "Which you look absolutely stunning for, by the way."

Anais does smile at this. She knows she does.

Lorelai fakes a gag, which she receives two pairs of eyerolls for. "I'm going to have a shower and get ready," she excuses herself, leaving her disgusting parents in the foyer.

Having learnt her lesson from the night before, Lorelai closes her curtains in her bedroom and the blinds in her ensuite bathroom before she strips herself of her work clothes and prepares for her shower.

As the steaming hot water cascades over her, she fails to relax. Instead, she begins plotting. She needs his silence. She just has to figure out what he needs and use it to her advantage. Once you know what someone wants, you own them.

She blow-dries and styles her hair, redoes her makeup, and looks through the clothes in her walk-in closet.

Eventually, she settles on the Jasmine dress in oyster from House of CB — a draped strapless number that highlights her waist, legs and chest while still being reasonably modest and appropriate for dinner with her parents. By the time she has gotten dressed and chosen the appropriate jewellery and shoes to pair with the outfit, she can already hear the murmur of her parents talking downstairs with two unfamiliar voices. The neighbors are here.

Lorelai is familiar with the routine — Arman and Anais will sit with the guests in the parlor for a while and make the first introductions before Lorelai goes down. Even though she is a grown adult, they still don't trust her to make a good impression. First and foremost, that is what matters to them — making a good impression on the influential.

Like clockwork, the house manager, an uptight but pleasant-enough woman in her late 50s, comes to collect Lorelai once her parents decided they have buttered up the guests enough.

Lorelai's heart beats rabbit fast in her chest as she walks down the stairs, about to come face-to-face with the man who has the power to ruin her future. For all she knows, he could have already mentioned what he saw to her parents. They wouldn't make a scene while he was here, they would wait until afterwards to react. She would be in for Hell.

As she enters the parlor, Lorelai immediately zeroes in on her parents' faces, looking for any sign that they know about her secret. To her relief, their expressions display no tension and no evidence that the man told them what he had seen.