6. Sujit #2
“Change of plans,” I said solemnly. “She’s coming here. And email her office the address.”
“But I’ll be gone. I have Katya’s violin recital today, I told you.”
“I won’t need you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Email them the address.”
She hesitated at the door but left without another word.
At five minutes to six, Aarti’s tall figure appeared outside my door. I promptly got up and invited her in.
She wore a knee-length skirt like last night, a deep blue against yesterday’s black, with a light blue silk shirt and a stylish McQueen blazer.
Obviously, I would’ve never known this if not for my brand-savvy sister-in-law and her frequent insistence that I go shopping with them.
One of her many attempts to get me out of the house after my breakup.
“This is a very nice office!” Aarti said as she entered and scanned the tastefully decorated space.
“Thank you, long years of sweat and hard work to come up with just the right furniture, the right art.”
“Or money, a lot of it,” she countered matter-of-factly. “And a fantastic interior decorator.”
I killed a chuckle as she looked over my shoulder to gaze at the city lights behind me, glimmering against the darkening sky. I realized why she had asked to meet in my office instead of the restaurant. She wanted a peek at the space, and now that she had, she knew exactly what it was worth.
Impressed and intrigued, I invited her to take a seat on the plush leather couch away from my desk. I lowered myself to a chair across from her.
“I hope you’re not thinking of evicting us so you can rent out this place for a higher price, now that you know how spacious these offices are.”
She shrugged elegantly, placing her bag beside her. “That’s one option,” she said, crossing her legs. She appeared more somber this evening.
“Let’s talk about the numbers you’ve sent us,” I said promptly.
This was a business meeting and the sooner we established this connection, the sooner we’d get over the weird one that linked us currently.
“We are not charging any more than the going rate in the area,” she replied coolly and unhurriedly. It was a perfect power move to my impatience.
“But it’s three times the amount we’re paying,” I countered, now matching her tone. “Three times what we’ve paid for the last several years.”
“Walter was soft. He lowballed the rent for all his properties, initially out of inexperience but then out of the goodness of his heart. And look where that’s gotten him. He let his emotions run his business into the ground. He’s had to sell three of his toniest buildings.”
“To you?”
She shrugged noncommittally.
“We can’t afford that amount, Ms. Bhatia. We need to somehow survive in this economy.”
“You lease four floors in this building, and I’ve heard you’ve been scouting another location for a satellite office. I’d say you are more than surviving the economy.”
That knocked me off my game. She was good.
I had made some very discreet inquiries about another space, and if she knew that, she was terribly well-connected.
But instead of being annoyed at her for doing her research or embarrassed that she had better connections than me, I found myself genuinely impressed.
She was certainly running this meeting, and she knew it.
“I can’t agree to the amount you’re paying, Mr. Rao.
” It didn’t escape my attention that the way she addressed me—her tone—was more formal than was warranted by the situation.
I wondered if it was just in keeping with the professional context of the meeting, or an attempt to create distance between us.
“You need to come up with a better number. I don’t do these kinds of meetings. Our office takes care of that. I am extending a friendly hand here. This is a lot of prime real estate, and Walter told us you are a good person. We’d hate to lose you.”
“Walter is also a good person.” I leaned back in my seat and interlaced my fingers. “That’s why he’s losing in this cruel world.”
Her face hardened. “Me, on the other hand…cutthroat, maneater, all the B, C, and F words. I’ve heard them all.”
She looked fiercely into my eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I said with a crooked smile.
“What would you say?”
“Astute, smart, assertive. A woman who knows her business interests,” I offered, leaning back in my chair.
She was visibly taken aback. Her mouth gaped a little, and her body leaned back.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” she said softly.
“I wasn’t either. Coffee?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
I steepled my fingers. “What’s the F word?” I asked with authentic curiosity.
It surprised her, and she reacted with a short laugh. “You know the one. Feminazi. Used for every woman who knows how to effectively speak her mind.”
“Ah, that one,” I said.
“And since you didn’t ask about the other alphabets, I suppose you know which ones I’m talking about.”
Sadly, I did know those. I nodded.
“How do we break this impasse?” I asked, returning to the issue at hand.
“Come up with a reasonable number.”
“I’ll check with my accounts department and see what we can afford. I hope you will honor our offer.”
“If it’s reasonable. Please ask around, Mr. Rao, we’re really not fleecing you. That’s not what we do. We need to survive too.”
“I was told you are real estate royalty. I think you’re also more than surviving.”
That earned me a smile. “Reasonable number,” she said, “and we’ll talk again.”
Remember I said I wasn’t much of a hard-ass? Well, she was! And she had me completely floored. The woman who had wept in my arms last night wasn’t the one sitting across from me right now. Or perhaps she was but had learned to masquerade her deepest emotions too well.
“I’ll see you to your car,” I offered as she rose.
“Thank you, but I’ll be fine,” she said, and I walked with her to the elevators as a professional courtesy.
Back in my office, I watched the short video of Kitty’s violin recital that Devi had texted me.
She was good and played better than a seven-year-old should be expected to play.
Then I answered emails that needed my urgent response.
Half an hour later, when I packed up and went down, I saw Aarti sitting in the lobby with an impatient look on her face, typing furiously on her phone.
“Ms. Bhatia, you’re still here?”
She looked up. “My stupid driver had a fender bender. The service is sending another car.”
“You know there are cabs and rideshare services in the city, right?”
She looked at me like it was an alien concept or a highly dubious one. I laughed.
“Let me drop you,” I offered.
“No, that’s alright.”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s not a long drive to your hotel, and it’s on the way to my place. Please, I insist.”
She sighed and stood.
“Let me call the service and tell them I don’t need the car here.”
I nodded and waited while she placed the call. She indicated we walk while she talked. Imran pulled the car around, and I opened the door for her before she reached for it.
“Allow me, Ms. Bhatia.”
“Sujit,” she whispered near my cheek, and the hair on my neck stood to attention. “I sobbed in your arms last night. You’ve seen me whimper like a child. I think it’s safe to drop the honorifics.”
“I thought you said you wanted to keep this formal and business-like,” I teased.
She responded with a frustrated grunt before slipping inside the car.
I don’t think I did a great job of reigning in my amusement as I came around through the other door because I saw Imran watching me in his trusty mirror with a twinkle in his eye.
But I made sure to keep my eyes off him as we rode in silence.
Beside me, I felt the soft touch of Aarti’s perfume. A gentle, pleasant smell. Unique but not overpowering. And yet, strangely powerful. Or maybe that’s how I felt about her. When I threw a glance in her direction, I found her looking at me with a tender gaze.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said in a voice meant for private conversation.
“Sure,” I replied. “It’s no bother.”
The uncertainty of our dynamic was starting to trouble me.
One moment, we were joking and teasing, and the next, the gravity of our situation, our curious connection, came bearing down on us.
I could see it in her behavior as well. She wanted to put last night behind us, reverting to her professional detachment, yet I saw her soft eyes when she smiled and teased.
“Would you like to join me for dinner?” something prompted me to ask, but I instantly regretted it. When she threw a quick glance at me, I added, “Unless you already have other plans, of course.”
“No,” she replied with a decided haste in her voice. “I have nothing else tonight. Dinner sounds good.”
“I know a nice bistro. Let’s see if they will accommodate us.”
“I’ve looked you up, Sujit. Something tells me they will,” she teased.
And there it was again, the lighthearted exchange. I decided I liked this better. I enjoyed her teasing. I liked her quippy mouth.
“Marco’s, Imran.”
There was a twinkle in his eye, but with a perfectly courteous voice, he said, “Yes, Boss.”