Bollywood Comes to The Chatsfield

Bollywood Comes to The Chatsfield
Tara Pammi

Step behind the hotel room doors of The Chatsfield, London…It’s an unusual family business, but being a chauffeur is the only thing that keeps Tanya Singh sane after a truly tough year. That is, until she meets her new client, famous Bollywood superstar John Patel and her teenage fantasy turns out to be more gorgeous in real life!But he’s also the most arrogant man she’s ever met and soon a clash of words and gazes raises the tension to fever pitch! Spending hours alone with John is sweet torture. But can this Bollywood icon unlock her every desire and make her love again?

Step behind the hotel room doors of The Chatsfield, London…

It’s an unusual family business, but being a chauffeur is the only thing that keeps Tanya Singh sane after a truly tough year. That is, until she meets her new client, famous Bollywood superstar John Patel and her teenage fantasy turns out to be even more gorgeous in real life!

But he’s also the most arrogant man she’s ever met and soon a clash of words and gazes raises the tension to fever pitch! Spending hours alone with John is sweet torture. But can this Bollywood icon unlock her every desire and make her love again?

Bollywood comes to The Chatsfield

Tara Pammi

Contents

Cover (#uf1adb61c-5e31-5ca4-b005-01617ef9431b)

Blurb (#u58f10c4b-9cb7-51c1-829e-29820d5d87cb)

Title Page (#uf0261fee-05a1-5440-8324-bae6e9e7e77e)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Author Bio (#litres_trial_promo)

Discover The Chatsfield (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#uf062c75e-b2a1-54a3-b13b-3bb952bf016d)

Tanya Singh opened Twitter on her smartphone and typed, her heart feeling like a lead weight in her chest.

Day 365… still standing…

And clicked Tweet.

She had survived a whole year without Sunny. Without her best friend, without her husband, without the man she had loved all her life.

And she hadn’t fragmented.

Every morning for the last twelve months, she had sent out one tweet. Sometimes it was what had got her through the night. Marking off another day. In the beginning months, it was as if it kept her connected to Sunny. The way they had tweeted each other several times during the day…it had been morbid but she couldn’t let go of the habit.

As it had been after the first few months, her phone instantly pinged, bringing a smile to her lips. She clicked it on and smiled as most of her friends tweeted back at her, sending hugs and kisses.

To know that there was a world waiting outside, if or when she wanted to go back to it, had been her lifeline these past few months.

She washed her face, keeping her gaze resolutely on her face in the full-length mirror in front of her. She couldn’t bear to look at her body and how her grief had painted itself over where her husband had once touched. A barrage of memories was waiting to close in on her if she did.

Pulling on leggings and one of Sunny’s T-shirts that hung loose on her frame, she piled her hair into a ponytail. Maybe she could go for a walk.

August sunlight streamed in through the small window of her room, and her gaze caught on the picture she had on her small nightstand of Sunny and her.

Her chest tightened, and for an infinitesimal second she thought it wouldn’t relent. But as she had learned over the past year, the ache passed and she breathed again.

Much as she had resisted her family’s cocooning, she was glad she had moved back in with her parents. Being amidst familiar things in her room, among her family, had helped.

She ran her fingers over her old and musty piggy bank, her picture from when she had played football, and then her gaze fell on the life-size poster on the wall next to her bed.

John Patel, Bollywood Star.

She had had such a crush on him growing up. Sunny had teased her a million times but she hadn’t convinced herself to take it down.

And yet, it had helped to see his smiling face there. A reminder of the girl she had been before the tragedy of the past year.

She was a survivor. True, for now, all she was doing was breathing, eating, sleeping and living off her family. But at least, she was still standing.

***

Tanya went downstairs, walked into the living room and bit back a sigh.

Her older brother, Raj, her parents, her grandmother and several assorted cousins, all looked at her with grins and smirks of varying degrees. Having known those faces and those expressions all her life, her heart slid down to her feet.

‘Really? Another intervention? Are we doing this again?’ Tanya said, trying to cut back her frustration.

Her granny’s loud question about what an intervention was sent them all into bursts of laughter. Including Tanya. Her cousin, Jessie, who was the closest to Tanya in age and her good friend, patiently explained it to granny.

‘Seriously, guys. I’m doing fine. See, I even showered, and wore clean clothes today. I don’t need to be-’

Her brother Raj interrupted her, his hands raised in surrender. ‘Actually, we were hoping you’d help us out tonight, Tanya.’

Blinking, Tanya looked from her brother to Jessie, the twinkle in her cousin’s eyes making her curious. For a few seconds, she couldn’t believe her brother was serious. ‘Sure…Yeah, of course. What can I help with?’

‘Maan’s out of town,’ Raj said, mentioning their older brother and exchanging a quick look with Jessie, ‘and I have a date tonight. Since you still have your licence around and you’ve been driving granny to the temple and back…I thought maybe you could help us out. We have a high-profile client flying into London this afternoon who requires chauffeuring services.’

When Tanya remained silent, because she was dumbstruck that her over-protective, uber-cocooning brother thought she was fit and capable enough for an important assignment, Raj frowned. ‘If you’d rather hang with your friends or feel you’re not up for a night of driving around London, we’ll just call Andy in.’

Andy was one of their long-standing chauffeurs.