Chapter 16 #2
“She will know it too,” he found himself saying.
————————————————————
“How’s it going, Doctor?” He sidled up to her side, curving his arm around her. Her body stiffened, but not in a bad way. He checked her face, just to be sure. And it was red. The good kind of red.
“Dimple has not left Maasi alone, hoping you will come back and she will get another glimpse up close,” Maya spelled out.
“Maya!” The bride gushed, rolling her eyes in fake chagrin. The woman with no filter just shrugged, picked a glass from a passing waiter and moved on.
“You call Ritu ben Doctor?” Dimple’s eyes were mooning. “That’s so cute. You don’t call me anything, Jai!”
“Hey, I do, baby,” her fiancé mollified.
“But that’s not Doctor!”
“Are you a doctor?”
“Why are you so quiet?” Nilay whispered in Ritu’s ear, least bothered about the teenage tiff going on in front of them.
“I’m good.”
“Lie.”
Ritu glared at him. He glared back. Let’s play that game, Doctor.
“I haven’t spent so much time in this setup in years,” she confessed.
No fun. But her confession made him want to wrap her up and hold her close through the evening. If he didn't have other plans, he would have done just that.
“What will make it bearable?” He asked.
Her eyes rounded in thought. MM eyes.
“Malai Dark Choco Chips after this?” He helped. And her fake, neutral smile brightened up for the first time since they had set foot inside this place.
“And Sitafal for me,” Nilay smirked.
“Yes… or, Butterscotch for you. If you are in the mood for it, that is,” she bit back her smile.
“If I am not, I’m sure you’ll get me in the mood for it.”
Her smile brightened even more. Her tongue came out to lick her lips, he was sure for ice cream. But he had other thoughts flood his dirty mind.
“Ritu.”
They broke away from each other’s eyes, turning around to an old man in a white shirt and black trousers.
“Papa.”
The old man’s eyes came to him, but Nilay showed zero interest in playing the good boy out to court the father.
“This is Nilay Patel,” Ritu introduced, her voice back to that no-nonsense Doctor tone of their Day 1 encounter. “Nilay, this is my father, Rasesh Kapadia.”
Nilay nodded. He did not want to shake hands. The old man took the cue and banded his hands behind his back, looking up just as stoically.
“What do you do, Nilay?”
“I am a couturier.”
His eyebrows creased in ignorance.
“He is a fashion designer.” Ritu helped.
His brows went up. “In India?”
Nilay gave a nod.
“Ritu?” Her father cued, hoping to get more explanation from her.
“Hmm?” She was just as cool.
“How do you know him?”
“He is working with Maya and Gautam.”
“Aah,” her father smiled.
“And seeing Ritu,” Nilay completed. The skin under his hand heated. He held on.
“How old are you?” Her father asked congenially. “Where are you from? Which part of Gujarat, I mean?”
“Panchmahal.”
“And your parents?”
“Papa,” Ritu interrupted. “We don’t need the interrogation here."
“We will talk on the phone later.” He widened his eyes, giving her a chin nod. “See you later, beta,” he told Nilay before moving on.
“What happened to turn me from Nilay to beta?” He wondered aloud, watching Rasesh Kapadia walk away.
“You ticked all his boxes,” she deadpanned.
“Really?” He grinned, dipping his chin to look down at her.
“Really,” she smiled sweetly up at him. “And if his checkboxes mattered to me, I would have been married to some neurologist in Chicago with three kids by now.”
Nilay felt his mouth stretch, thanking some lucky stars that her father’s checkboxes didn't matter to her.
“Aren’t you affected by it?” He asked solemnly.
“What? The disinterest?”
He nodded.
“As a child, sure. Now I have moved on. Grown up. I don’t like him,” she lowered her voice. “All I have is my duty to him as his child, most of which is towards reading his health reports, telling him my opinions and then leaving it at that.”
Nilay cupped her shoulder, running his hand up and down her bare arm. “Such is life.”
“Such is life,” she agreed, leaning into him.
They turned and gazed at the party together.
20-somethings dancing, teenagers drinking in a corner hidden from most eyes, 30-somethings in their own separate group talking kids and schools.
They were away from all those timelines of life, and yet still, he knew in his bones that their story was just getting started.
She was blissfully unaware of it, or chose to be.
But he was going to make sure he kickstarted it.
Starting with burning all the chains that held her back from staying in Mumbai.
————————————————————
“Fuck, I never thought I’d be sitting at the same bar as Nilay Patel and laughing about Bollywood gossip!
” Cousin Number Three set his glass down.
The bar was crowded with the men of Ritu’s family, spread out on barstools around him.
Nilay smirked, sipping from his second glass of sparkling water.
Nobody questioned him, because nobody thought anything was out of the ordinary when he did not touch alcohol.
Ritu had given him a look when she had found a glass in his hand, and he had dutifully held it up and mouthed ‘water.’
“What gossip?” Jimmy Gandhi joined them, resting his elbow on the bar and holding up his finger for a drink.
“NiP was just telling us about the bankruptcy that’s rampant in Bollywood, behind the glitz and glamour.
” Cousin Number Four explained. “Money, money, show, show, but no money for the real go.” He laughed, buzzed now.
Everybody around him was buzzed. The party was in full swing behind them, the younger lot dancing harder, the women spread out, everybody in their own worlds.
Nilay waited for moments like these at parties to get his work done.
“It’s like that for everything.” Nilay nodded. “What is apparent, is never true. And vice versa.”
“Everything? Like, even their marriages?” Somebody asked. “Dating lives?”
Nilay shrugged.
“Like your dating life too?” Cousin Number Six hiccupped. “Oops, sorry. You are here with Ritu. Can’t bring that up.”
“Bring what up?” Nilay feigned ignorance.
“No, nothing.”
“Go on.” He nodded, leaning back.
“Your… dual tastes. I’m not saying it! People say…”
Nilay moved his eyes across the court of men. Then smirked. His mysterious smirk that never answered questions. Only got work done. “People say a lot of things.”
“No smoke, no fire.”
“No, it’s ‘no fire no smoke,’” his tipsy brother pointed, leaning back on the bar, tipping his beer bottle up. “Wait, it’s first smoke then fire, right?” He jerked. “Right, guys?”
“Fuck you are smart when you are drunk.” Somebody laughed.
“First fire, then smoke,” Nilay nodded helpfully, bringing the topic back.
“Yes, yes! So…” he hiccuped again. “Smoke or fire? No, wait, my question was — is there fire?”
Nilay spread his hands out — “It’s an industry of smoke and mirrors.”
“Now you are confusing me.”
“Some say you lean towards one, some say towards the other, some believe both?” Cousin Number One, the least buzzed of all, asked.
“And a few think it changes every month,” Nilay completed.
“Every month?”
“This month’s Page 3 said older men,” Nilay shrugged. “But what do I know?” He raised his gaze at Jimmy standing outside the circle. The man froze with his tumbler to his lips. His mouth dropped open. Nilay held his gaze. Shock was now fear.
“Are you fooling around here with Ritu ben?!” One of the fools slurred, stepping up to him.
“Easy,” Nilay held the angry one back by his chest. He patted it. “Drink some coffee.”
“Hey, Anish, sit down. We are all joking here.” His cousin caught him and took him to a cabana. Nilay picked up his glass. He took a sip of his sparkling water. The bubbles had all burst. And so had his patience with this lot.
“So, you are not about to tell us if it’s true or not?” The sober one asked. Nilay kept drinking, eyes pinned on the old man vibrating in panic behind the group. Nilay observed as he set his glass down and left the bar, going around the counter and towards the restrooms. Perfect.
He couldn’t leave the court wondering about his tastes, though. For the first time in years, it wasn't just about him but about Ritu.
“All jokes aside,” Nilay stepped down from the barstool, solemn.
“I am here as Ritu’s date. My private life is nobody’s business.
You had a good laugh, discussed the gossip around it.
But I will not tolerate any disrespect towards Ritu or gossip directed at her.
She is all I see. And that’s enough for you lot to know. ”
Nilay stepped out of the circle and walked down the party, towards the restrooms. He entered the Men’s, and counted one other head aside from Jimmy Gandhi’s.
The man hadn’t seen him yet, busy washing his only good hand, running some water on the back of his neck.
Nilay opened the door for the young man exiting, smiling.
The moment he was out, Nilay quietly pressed the door shut and locked it with an audible click.
Jimmy Gandhi startled up. He was already stepping back, away, towards the wall of glass behind him.
“Whaa… open the door.”
Nilay began to walk towards him.
“You… why did you lock it…? Are you mad? What are you do…”
Nilay scratched the tip of his chin, advancing.
“I… this is… I am not interested. Please…” his voice turned shrill. “I’ll go… just open the door! I will scream! This is not right…”
Nilay kept advancing.
“You can’t do this! This is a crime!” He bumped into the wall behind him and shrank into himself. He began to reach for his mobile — “I will call the police now!”