13. Sujit
SUJIT
W hen we drove back to my place that evening, I pulled out Catan while she changed into lounging clothes. I spread the board out on the custom-built gaming table that sat discreetly in a corner masquerading as a console.
Her eyes grew wide and her eyebrows lifted when I drew back the top to uncover it, complete with pull-out player stations to hold cards, game pieces, and drinks.
I had dreamed about getting one when I was in college but couldn’t justify the outrageous cost of the custom-build.
When I moved into this penthouse, it was the first thing I bought, even before I had furniture to sit on.
Aarti settled in a chair I had pulled from the dining table. Getting things custom-built had its advantages. I’d specifically asked for dining table chairs that could be repurposed for gaming.
My friends and I had maintained a strict no friends, no partners policy for our game nights, but I was confident I could get them to bend the rules for my attractive houseguest.
“So settlements go between the tiles and roads along the tiles?” she asked. I nodded. “But along the tiles is also between two tiles, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but only the settlements will determine what resource cards you get.”
“Ugh, this is too difficult. I’m buzzed, and you’re taking away all the fun of my martinis.”
I smiled, and she steadied her gaze on my face.
“What are you looking at?” I asked, fiddling with the cards in my hands.
“Do you know how gorgeous you are with those dimples?” she let slip, then averted her eyes with a shy smile.
I shuffled in my seat, stumped by her compliment. “Yes, I’ve been told.”
“By Tara?” she asked, looking at me with a diffident gaze.
“Among others. Mostly by the women in my family who dote on me. I heard that even more after the breakup. My family has been walking on eggshells around me. I mean, I’m a grown man, I can handle a little rejection, a little heartache.
But everyone from my mom and my aunts to my cousins, my sister-in-law, and even Devi have been treating me as if I’m fragile.
For years, they hounded me with pictures and résumés of young women, and suddenly, everything stopped.
I think it’s my sister-in-law’s doing. I think she’s convinced everyone I need time to heal. ”
“I don’t get why you’re grumbling. It’s a blessing to have people in your life who care about you.”
Caught by her words, I threw a glance in her direction. “I’m sure there are people who care about you just as much.”
She flipped her cards to the table and picked up the glass of water I’d offered her earlier.
“You know what Sameer used to say about me? Perfect. That’s the word he always used.
You’re perfect . Tara also used that word.
And I know they meant it as a compliment, but something pinched inside me.
I didn’t want to be perfect. I just wanted to be loved like they loved one another. ”
I made a quick mental note. Perfect was also what I’d used for her since the first time I saw her. That word was never entering my thoughts or escaping my lips again.
“When I first started at the elite prep school, I had no friends because I had a lazy eye and glasses with one thick lens. The kids teased me for it and for the way I styled my long, thick hair in a braid.”
“That must have been rough.”
She nodded. “The kids in my school came from money. I’d seen it only recently.
So I didn’t know the expensive brands and the correct etiquette.
My father had enough money to pay for our education and sponsor various events at school, but that didn’t mean I had class .
That’s what the kids said. I didn’t have class .
When I asked Mom what it meant, she explained politely that it’s something that the rich have always used as an accusation to exclude people from their social circle, to make others feel small.
She asked me to ignore it and to never use it for anyone else.
But Dad overheard our conversation and hired someone to teach us, me and my brother.
The teacher claimed with pride that she would make me a proper lady.
I hated it. I mean, can you really see me going about like a debutant?
” She turned her face to me and rolled her eyes.
I smiled at the thought of her in a flowing gown and crisp white gloves.
“But the next time we were at a school event that required the use of forks of different kinds in accordance with the school status, I stunned them all. Inadvertently so. I was only using the knowledge I’d gained from those expensive classes, but Mary Beth, who was the richest and the most popular girl in my class and the school, turned to me with a whisper of a smile and said, ‘Not bad, Battie.’ That was what they called me, Battie.
They couldn’t say Bhatia and didn’t want to call me Aarti for reasons that completely evaded me.
But everyone at that table saw Mary Beth’s approving smile, and in that moment, I realized, she’d never teased me nor looked down on me.
She was above these shenanigans. That’s probably the moment the seed of our friendship was sown. ”
“So you’re still friends, then?”
“Yep. She’s the one who insisted I come to New York while the celebrations were unfolding in Dallas.”
“She’s the friend you mentioned the first time we met?”
“Yes, she’s married to Ezzie Strauss.”
“Ezekiel Strauss? His family is New York!”
“Yup, and Mary Beth’s is Dallas. They met in college, and her family flipped out when she wanted to marry him. But Mary Beth is a force to reckon with. She is smart, witty, and very determined. Poor Ezzie had no choice.” She chuckled.
“Have you met him?”
She nodded. “This time, though, I’ve been avoiding the invitation to their place. Everyone in our circle is privy to how Sameer dumped me, and I don’t think I’m in a place to handle it well. Not yet.”
“I felt the same way for months until my family and friends cornered me and forced me out of that gloom.”
She turned her soft, brown eyes to me. “That’s what I mean, be thankful for these people in your life.”
“I’m sure your family and friends want the same for you.”
As she sighed, I tried hard not to gaze at the chest that rose and fell with the weight of her breath. She was perfect, but now I could never tell her that.
“Mary Beth and Isha are the only friends that I trust with my life and my heart. I was always introverted. I never had a big circle of friends like my brother did. Initially, I thought it was my appearance, so I changed my hair and my clothes, used contacts, and got braces on my teeth. I couldn’t wait to be an adult so I could get the surgery done to fix my eye.
I was also determined to change my nose and my breasts, but Mary Beth looked at me and sagely said, ‘Changing yourself will not make these nincompoops like you any better. You’re a brown-skinned rich kid in a rich white school.
Don’t change who you are. I like you the way you are. ’”
I turned to her, and she read my smile. We both burst into laughter as I managed, “She didn’t really say nincompoops, did she?”
“She did,” Aarti replied, trying very hard to rein in her tipsy laughter. “Maybe that’s the reason we’re so close. I also thought they were all nincompoops.”
“I’ll get you more water,” I said when I saw her bring an empty glass to her lips.
I returned from the kitchen, handed her a fresh glass, then settled beside her.
“Mary Beth and I have been close since that day. She’s dignified, so you won’t find her screaming and hugging me, but she’ll protect me with the quiet demeanor of a fierce goddess. Ezzie knows it. That’s why he loves her so much.”
“I like you the way you are, too,” I said quietly and slipped away to fetch myself some water from the kitchen.
When I returned, she was busy reading the instructions for the game. As I retook my seat next to her, I asked, “Is that why you came to New York? To avoid the wedding?”
She pulled herself upright with a weary smile. “You’re the only one who understands, so I’m not going to lie to you. But if you mention it outside this room?—”
“You’ll kill me?”
“Don’t be silly.” She grinned. “I won’t get my hands dirty. I’ll have someone do it for me.”
I laughed aloud. “Maybe we should celebrate the day in our own way,” I suggested.
“Celebrate isn’t a word I’d use.” She turned her face to me, and when I found myself helpless against her soft gaze, she sat up, picked my cards from the table, and placed them in my hand. “Come on, teach me, or I’m going to lose miserably tomorrow. And I really hate to lose.”
The next morning, when the car service arrived, we headed over to my favorite breakfast diner.
It wasn’t a place that took reservations, but I’d called ahead and asked Ms. Dina to save us a table.
I was a regular and her favorite, as she’d claimed on several occasions.
Ms. Dina’s scrambled eggs and waffles were always a treat.
No culinary expert could recreate them as I’d repeatedly told her.
It was one of the reasons I was her favorite.
We also got the petulla dusted lightly with powdered sugar.
It was served with honey, strawberry jam, and marmalade.
“What do you think?” I asked Aarti when she’d taken a bite. “And don’t say it aloud if you didn’t like it,” I whispered. “Ms. Dina will ban me if she learns I brought along a date who didn’t like her food.”
“The waffles are excellent. I concur with you. These are the best I’ve had.”
I raised a brow. “I hear a but coming.”
She graced me with a smile. “ But I didn’t know this was a date,” she said, slipping me her naughty smile that made my body warm up on the cold winter morning.
“A breakfast date. Innocuous. Chaste as they come.”