11. Sujit #2
Her smile held me for a moment before she whispered, “I need to dump my date first.” With her eyes, she directed me to a striking man talking to someone in the distance. My heart dipped.
“He looks nice. Bring him along,” I joked.
“Are you kidding? He’s clingy. Plus, I want your wit and sass and dimples all to myself.”
“Tsk, selfish woman.”
She slipped me what had become our secret naughty smile.
“Where should we meet? Any good places around here?”
“Lots. But I was thinking, my home? It’s humble but quiet and cozy. And out of the purview of prying eyes.”
“Hmm, I’ll need to think about it,” she said with a gentle frown. “What will my suitors say? Spending the night at a man’s place.”
“Spending the night? I never offered that. A nightcap, and you’re off. Thrown out on your butt if required.”
“What a gentleman!”
“Always.” I pushed my left hand into my trouser pocket with a grin.
“Okay, text me your address. I will dump the loser and come over.”
I saw her date approaching, and the spark left her eye as she prepared to transform into her sophisticated, aloof self.
“Well, it was good seeing you again, Ms. Bhatia. Enjoy your evening,” I said and stepped away to look at an artwork on the wall.
“Are you ready to leave, sweetheart?” her companion said.
Sweetheart! I turned my head to see the cringe in Aarti’s measured, held smile, but it didn’t seem to have registered with him.
“I was thinking we could get a bite somewhere, maybe a drink,” I heard him say.
“I’m sorry, I have another meeting.”
“This late? I thought…I was hoping…”
Standing two feet away, gazing at a painting I appreciated nothing about, I pitied the poor fool who thought he was getting in her bed that night.
While Aarti got busy mingling and possibly trying to ditch her date, I found Padma and reserved the sculpture.
“Are you sure?” she tried to ascertain with a wary smile.
I parroted Aarti’s description of it and she stood speechless for several moments with her eyes wide in disbelief. When her lips finally parted, she said, “Wow…I…you saw all that?”
I neither confirmed nor denied it.
“It’s yours, bro! If this is how you see it, it belongs with you!” She gave me a quick hug, overwhelmed that I’d finally understood the artist in her.
“Now, show me something for Amma’s gudi,” I said. “I’m sure she called you about it too.”
Padma laughed. “She did, and I have just the thing for her, a beautiful painting by a dear friend. Come, let me introduce you to her. She captures the feminine essence so brilliantly. I’m sure Peddamma will love it.”
Twenty minutes later, I saw Aarti leave the gallery. I left soon after. On the way back, I stopped to buy two chilled bottles of the sparkling white that she’d loved at Marco’s. When I got home, I waited with an eagerness that was aberrant and inexplicable.
She was dating other men, and I was still hurting from Tara. It was safe to assume we couldn’t share more than camaraderie at this time. Then why did her presence, her smart words, and her wisdom seem to ease my soul?
She arrived looking relaxed, with a definite lightness in her demeanor. I could vouch for it because she had traded her stilettos for a pair of low-heel pumps. Though she was still in that stylish, simple black dress, she’d ditched her clutch for the tote she usually had on her.
“Nice place!” she said and walked around the spacious apartment, surveying the layout. “Really nice. I thought I heard you assure me it was humble.”
“It is. Very humble. Like me.” I grinned.
She rolled her eyes and flopped on the couch.
“Did your date drop you here?” I asked for no apparent reason.
“No, I had him drop me at the hotel. I had the car service waiting for me.”
“Is the car waiting for you here?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Send it back. I’ll drop you.”
She narrowed her eyes, then smiled and placed the call.
“Whisky, bourbon, or something else?” I asked when she dropped her phone back into the tote.
“What’s the something else on that menu?”
“Sparkling white, perhaps?” I asked with a crooked smile.
She laughed. “Yes, please. You know me now, don’t you?”
“Only because you ordered it at Marco’s. Unlike you, I’m not sneaky. I still don’t know how you found out about Rampur.”
She smiled as I poured her the wine.
“You’re not going to share it with me, are you?”
Accepting the glass I offered, she said, “Maybe someday.”
She took a sip of the wine and let out a sigh. “The date wore me out. I don’t even know why I decided to go out with him again.”
“Again?”
“This was our second date,” she said and shook her head in disbelief. “He seemed alright on our first one. We went for dinner, and he wasn’t boring.”
“You gave him another chance because he wasn’t boring?” I asked, intrigued.
“Well, not entirely. My cousin had set us up, so I wanted to give him a fair chance before I rejected him.”
“He’s a good-looking guy.”
“I’ll say, and too full of himself. He never asked one question about me. Like me me,” she said and gave me a look as if I must know precisely what she meant. And I did. She meant the conversation we had the other day.
“He’s an investment banker, and all he talked about was money and business. I’m not averse to it, but it’s my day job, and I’d really love to talk about other things outside work hours.”
She took her shoes off and pulled the hassock under her feet. My eyes darted to her shapely toes, painted deep red, before I brought them back to her face. “Plus, he insisted on being called Ash.”
“Ash?” I produced a curious frown.
“Ashutosh. Ash. With Swinstz. That was his introduction,” she said and laughed.
I smirked. The CEO of Swinstz was a close business contact. I committed the information to memory. It was one of those things I was good at. I created vaults inside my brain to tag and separate information so I could recall it when required.
“Nice. Was he sweet, sweetheart ?” I asked with a crooked grin.
“Don’t you tease me about it! It was our second date, and he was already too handsy for my taste. And no one calls me sweetheart until I’m in a committed relationship.”
“He certainly had other ideas.”
She turned her face to me. “Like what?”
“Well, it was clear he thought it was going to turn into a night together.”
She shuffled in her place and rested her back against the couch. “That’s his problem, not mine. But I bet he’ll call for another date.”
“Does he stand a chance?”
“Not even if he was the last man on earth,” she said, and it set me laughing. “Oh, you know I’ve been thinking of you all week,” she added innocuously.
“Really? Yet, you didn’t text or call?”
“Yes, because it couldn’t be done over the phone. I wanted to show you this in person.” She thumbed her phone open and scrolled. “Mom sent me pictures and résumés she’s received over the past few weeks. Let’s see what you think of them.”
I reached across the coffee table to get the phone from her, but she shook her head and nodded at the couch. “No, come sit here.”
I walked over and settled down beside her. Her seductive evening fragrance turned into a soft whisper, holding me in a gentle embrace.
“This one’s kind of douchey,” I said, looking at the man who sent her a modeling picture.
“Kind of?” She scoffed. “You’re nice.”
I laughed when she showed me the next picture. “And this dudebro? I didn’t know we had desi dudebros!”
“Huh, I wonder which rock it is that you’ve been living under,” she said and flipped to yet another.
“No way! He sent a picture with his biceps showing? Reject! I mean, those are some biceps, but still…”
“I’ve had a glimpse of your biceps, Sujit. You can’t tell me you’re not sympathetic to him?” she teased while trying to stifle a laugh.
A smile appeared on my face of its own accord. She’d noticed my biceps, my body? The thought sent a curious feeling zipping through me.
“But I don’t live at the gym. Looks like he does. Next!”
We flipped through at least fifteen pictures.
“What, you’re going to reject them all?” she joked. “Not one acceptable guy in this horde?”
“Not for you,” I declared and sipped the wine.
It was too sweet and too crisp for my taste, but I loved the look on her face as she enjoyed it.
“I smell intrigue,” she said.
I grinned. “Must be my cologne.”
“Must be you.”
She threw her head back on the couch.
I leaned forward and pulled the hassock under both our feet.
“More wine?” I asked.
She lifted her glass, and I leaned to grab the bottle from the table to refill it.
“Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure.”
I turned on the TV and handed her the remote.
“You think that’s a wise idea? This is literally the remote control you’re handing me.”
I smiled. “I trust you.”
She gave an ominous smirk. “That is a really bad decision, Sujit Rao. You don’t know me yet.”
I relaxed against the couch and said, “I know you enough to trust you completely.”
Her smile was one of surprise and relief as she flipped through the apps to figure out what to watch.
We settled on a thriller, but an hour into the movie, her head slipped against my shoulder.
She had fallen asleep with an empty wine glass resting upright on her thigh.
I gave her a few more minutes to slide into deep sleep before turning off the television.
I picked up the glass that had dropped to her side and laid her on the couch.
She stirred when I got her a pillow and a blanket, but it didn’t break her sleep.
What reassured me was the knowledge that the couch was comfortable.
I had spent countless nights on it when I fell asleep working or watching TV.
The next morning, she was still asleep when I went into the kitchen to make coffee.
She sat up with a start and looked around. “Shit!”
“Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“You’re a crafty woman, aren’t you? You did end up spending the night here.”
She smiled. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“You can use the master. I’ve laid out a fresh toothbrush and face wash for you. Don’t judge me, though. I haven’t made my bed.”
“You slept in your comfortable bed while I was scrunched up on the couch? You are a true gentleman.”
“Would you have preferred my bed instead?” I asked cheekily.
The last two meetings had changed our equation. We seemed to be getting along like old friends, teasing and joking. It was refreshing.
“In your dreams,” she responded with a light scoff.
“I don’t dream about you,” I said as I turned on the coffee machine.
“Yeah? What do you dream about?”
“I dream of spending a relaxing day somewhere, catching up on sleep in a hammock on a beach. The other night, I dreamt I had front-row seats to Trevor Noah, with a VIP backstage pass.”
“Really? Trevor Noah?”
“He makes my generation look smart and well-read.”
“Your generation?” She produced a snort.
“Yes, you young people wouldn’t know about that.”
“You don’t say…but why don’t you?”
“What?”
“Go see Trevor Noah. It’s not like you can’t afford the tickets or the backstage pass.”
“It’s not always the money.” I smiled at her.
“I never have the time. Rather, I never make an effort to make the time. Plus, I want someone to enjoy it with. I thought that was something Tara and I would do together, then she vanished from my life…Coffee’s ready.
Go wash up. I’ve put fresh towels in the bathroom. ”
She stood gazing at me for a few seconds, then turned around and stepped toward the bedroom.
After coffee, she prepared to leave. “I’ve got lots to do today.”
“Imran is here. He’ll drive you to the hotel.”
“That’s ok. My car service will be here in no time,” she said, unlocking her phone. “I’m sure you have a busy day too.”
“I’ve pushed back my morning meetings. Don’t worry, he’ll drop you and come get me.”
“Pushed back the meetings!” She made a gasping sound. “How did sweet Devi agree to that?”
“Sweet Devi isn’t all that sweet. I’ll get an earful when I reach work. I’ll fill you up on it this evening.”
“Evening?” She pivoted with speed to face me. “Are we meeting again tonight?”
I shrugged. “We don’t have to if you’re busy. I just don’t want you spending Friday evening alone.”
“Who says I’ll be alone?” she said with a cocked eyebrow.
“You won’t be,” I announced as I walked to the door and held it open for her. “You’ll spend it with me.”
“Throwing me out, are you?”
“As promised.” I leaned in to kiss her cheek. “See you this evening, sweet girl.”
She smiled and waved at me from the elevators.