Lacy could hear laughter spilling out all the way to the main gate as she walked up to the front door. Stepping quietly inside the foyer, she briefly debated whether to stop by the living room to greet her father's friends or just sneak upstairs and save herself the bother.
The opportunity to slink away is lost as her father catches her hovering by the staircase. "Too late, Lacy. Chalo abhi (come now), you have to come in and say hello!"
Groaning, she gave him a petulant hug even as he laughingly dragged her to the living room.
Four years ago, after his second divorce, her father had moved to Delhi to expand his construction business. Lacy had not wanted to shift away from Bombay, but her father had convinced her that Delhi would be good for both her personal life and career. A shy, introverted girl, Lacy had trouble making and keeping friends, and preferred to stay in her room and read her fantasy books or watch her anime TV shows. Because of her reclusive nature she had not fared well in either finding and keeping a boy friend or a job after the move, which had further affected her self esteem. Her father on the other hand had amassed a wide network of friends, and Lacy couldn't ever escape the attention of his friends, especially as her father made it a point to compel her to be more social.
There are about a dozen of her father's cronies celebrating some nonsense one of them had probably won--a land deal, or a political party ticket or just winning at poker. Walking in, she tried to include everyone present at the party in her hello, and found out the get-together was in honour of her father landing his latest deal. They all halt their multiple conversations to greet her warmly, offering her side hugs and pats on the back. Some of them insisted she have a drink with them to celebrate, so she quickly made herself a large gin and tonic. Joining one of their little groups, Lacy mostly nodded along and answered any questions she was asked--about her job search, her plans to get married etc.
"I, uh, am not ready to get married. I want to focus on my career." Lacy answered softly, taking a quick sip of her drink.
"You are just 22 years old, there is plenty of time for marriage. Enjoy your life, beta (child)!" Sushil uncle announced, with a couple of others agreeing with him. Lacy smiled at him gratefully. Sushil, with salt and pepper hair, and a body he exercised daily was the more progressive of the group. He believed in women having careers, and mostly encouraged Lacy to live her own life.
"Lacy is still figuring out her job situation," her father added, his voice patient, "she had some difficulty adjusting to her last company culture." Hearing him explain her losing her job pained Lacy. She felt like a failure. Her father came from a reputable family of over-achievers. At every conversation, whether at the family dinner or around their new friend circle, she was constantly reminded that even as a lowly HR business partner she had been useless in securing a mediocre job.
"The market is bad, so keep trying. Why don't you send her resume in the group chat, Ajay? I'm sure one of us will be able to circulate it." Mohan uncle suggested. "Fikar nahi kar (don't worry), you are too pretty to not land a job soon." He added, smiling down genially at her. Mohan, a balding, pot-bellied papa-bear type, was the perhaps the kindest of her father's friends. He was always ready to help, full of concerned smiles and hugs.
Though his sexist remark grated Lacy, she forced herself to smile wanly at him because she knew he meant well. There was no point in correcting him that getting a job based on looks was not something some women wanted. These old uncles were smugly entrenched in patriarchy.
"You are in HR, right?" Lacy nodded at Prem uncle's question. "That's a very easy field. They are always looking for lovely young things for HR positions. What was your last job role?"
Lovely young things?
Lacy cringed behind her gin. She longed to give him a piece of her mind but it was not in her nature to be confrontational.
"Uncle, I was HR business partner with specialisation in Wellness Development." She briefly explained how she was tasked with creating wellness initiatives for employee wellbeing and to keep them satisfied and motivated.
"Oh! I'm sure their wellbeing would have improved just by looking at your charming figure and that cute face. Humare waqt mai (in our times), the HR never looked this delectable!" Prem winked at her, making the others laugh with gusto.
Embarrassed, Lacy flushed a bright pink, mumbling her protest though no one heard her.
Of all her father's friends, Prem uncle was her least favorite. A short, stocky man, Prem ran the Verma Heights real estate empire, was loaded with money, and rumoured to fund both criminals and political party leaders alike. Lacy found him to be insufferably arrogant and uncomfortably inappropriate. He had a penchant for cracking ribald jokes and making lewd remarks on women.
His off-color humor she could still ignore, but lately she had found he liked to grope her every chance he got, accidentally of course. Her last encounter had been at Shalini's engagement party where Prem had managed to corner Lacy, who was slightly drunk, at the back of the staging area. Under the pretence of helping her to the dressing room, he had squeezed her ass as she stumbled in his embrace. His attempts to cop a feel of her lush curves had bothered her, but her inebriated state had prevented her from doing anything about it. She had been worried her would get her alone in the dressing room, but to her relief it was occupied by several ladies. So, he had dropped her just outside the door, brushing her tits in her low cut choli with a whispered 'next time'. Sober, the following day, she had wondered if the whole thing had even happened.
Lacy, sipping her drink, avoided looking at any one of them, her mind trying to think of ways to get out of the discussion and this room. She looked around the gathering and her eye caught Harish and Brijesh uncle out in the veranda. Making the excuse to go say 'hi' to them, she quickly made her way towards open french doors.
The next half an hour is spent discussing more of the same--her job hunt, her life in Delhi, and how she was settling in. The gin had started to take an effect as Lacy tried to stay on topic and show some interest in their advice but her attention kept straying to Prem uncle. She just couldn't ignore the ill-concealed manner in which he kept looking at her ass and legs in her mid-thigh length summer dress.
Soon, to her dismay the whole group inside decided to move to the veranda to smoke. As the outdoor space gets crowded, Lacy found herself wedged against the railing between Prem and Mohan uncle. Trapped, she tried to seek her father out, certain he would recognise the cornered look on her face and tell her to take her leave.
"Um... where is papa?" Lacy asked Mohan, who distractedly pointed to the door leading to her father's study, telling her Ajay was on a call.
Sighing in resignation, she slumped against the railing and into the arm draped over it. Before she could move away, Prem closed his fingers against her back, holding her in place. She looked at Prem is surprise but he only shot her a distracted smile. She tried to move away but with Mohan uncle on her other side she would have to push past him. The two men began to talk about politics and inflation, and Lacy couldn't make her move. She told herself she will walk away as soon as there was a lull in the conversation.
Her father soon joined the group outside, when some of the men declared they wanted to give a toast to his latest success. As everyone turned to raise their glasses and offer their congratulations, Lacy shifted uncomfortably, trying to discretely dislodge the hand on her back.
To her alarm, Prem's hand started to make small, slow circles, his fingers lightly pressing down on the top of her ass. She imagined he was perhaps unaware that he was touching her, because why would he risk it here. But as his hand descended lower till he was cupping her butt cheek, Lacy was certain this pervert was definitely risking it.
"What are you doing?" Lacy whispered to Prem, expecting him to drop his hand.
"Just getting to know you better." Prem's smooth response threw Lacy off. It was not the reply she was expecting.
"You are being.. um, inappropriate." She tried again, leaning into him to rebuke him sharply.
"It's your short little dress that's really inappropriate, beta (child). I can see your bra and ass through the thin material." Prem whispered back hotly. "You enjoy flaunting your charms like this, hmm?"
Startled, Lacy closed her mouth. Her dress was short, but it was what all the girls were wearing in Delhi. Back in Bombay, because of the humidity, girls would be wearing even smaller, thinner skirts and shorts. No one cared in that city.
Prem's hand continued to squeeze her butt, as the group loudly joined in their versions of the toast to her father. She thought to speak up, call attention to what this dirty old man was doing. But that would mean her father would have to deal with it. If Prem denied he did anything wrong she would look like a liar.
How will I prove to Papa? It would embarrass him so much. He's so happy tonight...
Lacy stood pondering how to tackle the situation without making a scene. She fidgeted, trying to dislodge Prem's grip on her butt cheek. She loathed drawing attention to herself and the thought of all these men finding out she was being groped was too distressing.
Prem's fingers suddenly squeezed hard, as if telling her to stop squirming. She gasped softly when his fingers pressed into the crack of her ass, pinching her bum painfully. He wiggled his fingers, feeling the strap of her lacy thong. Lacy, smarting from the pinch was amazed at the old pervert's brazenness. He had some guts, groping her right in her father's house, who stood a short distance away in front of all his friends.
As the hand continued to feel the outline of her panties, Lacy realised in shock that her nipples were waking up to the stimulation on her ass. She could feel them hardening with unwanted excitement. It's the gin, she told herself vehemently. There was no way she could be getting turned on by this pervert.
Then, in an extremely daring move, Prem slowly pulled up on the material of her dress, bunching the fabric. She froze, both with anxiety and at the sudden thrill of his audacity. While she floundered in her head how to get him to stop, Prem kept pulling her dress up.
The multiple versions of the toast being tossed around were lost on Lacy. All she could focus on was the progress of those nimble fingers dragging her dress up. Her heart had started to gallop in reluctant anticipation. She held her breath as the fingers finally made contact with the skin of her bare ass.
There was no way she could alert anyone about what Prem was doing. If she said anything now, people will see his hand on her ass and they will wonder why she let him get to that point.
