Chapter 12
12
‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you OK?’ Morowa asked worriedly.
‘I just had the most Bollywood moment of my life,’ I whispered, ‘and it was with Karim Malik of all people!’
‘What?!’
‘It’s our turn to present,’ Farhan bhai interrupted, nodding towards the swiftly approaching Malik-family entourage. ‘Listen, Zara, I don’t know where you ran off to, but I need you to stay focused now. We already look short-staffed. And remember to be polite and patient.’
‘Sorry – yes, of course,’ I mumbled.
Karim spotted me. He gave a subtle nod in greeting, and I swiftly looked away, busying myself with placing extra spoons near plates. A mask of professionalism slipped over my face.
Just so long as I reined in my sharp tongue, we still had a shot at this.
‘Hi. Welcome to Jashan Desserts,’ Morowa said brightly.
‘Thank you,’ Kiran replied warmly. ‘Let’s proceed with the food tasting!’
Morowa began to point out the different desserts and I could feel Karim’s eyes on me. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered over him, so I turned towards Morowa. But I couldn’t stop the way my skin blazed under his gaze. I gripped the spoon I was holding until my knuckles turned white.
If only there was a way to stop feeling so self-conscious …
‘What do you think, Sana?’ Kiran asked a beautiful petite woman who’d grabbed a plate from Morowa’s side of the table.
‘It’s really tasty,’ Sana replied pertly. ‘Oh my God, I could actually finish this entire thing right now.’
‘Please go right ahead.’ Morowa laughed. ‘That’s our mango and passion-fruit pudding. The thin coconut flakes and raspberry sauce add a nuanced texture and tang to the creamy organic pudding.’
‘Well, I’ve never been to a South Asian wedding where they served such a dessert,’ Fouzia said tightly, narrowing her eyes in Sana’s direction.
‘I actually think it’s great when people have the courage to break barriers and bring something new to the table,’ Sana responded, not bothering to even glance in Fouzia’s direction. ‘It shows the chef’s confidence.’
‘Yes, I agree with Sana,’ Azad Malik said quickly, halfway through a pudding himself. ‘This is by far the best dessert I’ve tried today.’
I recognized Karim’s older brother instantly. Even if I hadn’t seen him in Karim’s vlogs, I would’ve spotted that they were related through their matching features and style.
Kiran gushed, ‘I knew you guys would like these desserts.’
‘Why don’t you introduce your team to us?’ Karim asked Morowa.
I finally looked back at him. The fluttering feeling in my chest expanded until it reached my fingertips and toes.
‘Yes, of course,’ Morowa replied happily, and proceeded to introduce herself and Farhan bhai, but Karim’s eyes never left mine, as though nobody else’s name or presence even mattered. When she finally revealed my name to him, his lips curled at the edges.
‘Zara Khan, eh?’
‘Yes,’ I replied sharply, feeling strangely exposed.
He walked right up to me without any concern that everyone’s eyes were now on us.
‘What would you recommend?’ he asked softly, reaching for my hand.
I froze.
His finger trailed across the side of my hand as he plucked the spoon from my grip.
Ignoring the tingling sensation his touch had left, I replied, ‘Everything our chef makes is incredible. I guess it depends on your personal taste. What do you like?’
‘Hmm … I like it when I have to work a little harder to get a taste.’
I swallowed.
It didn’t feel like he was talking about desserts.
I had no idea how to respond but the silence was stretching out, so I went with whatever came to my mind and pointed towards the tropical cheesecake near Morowa.
‘The flavour in this cheesecake is unique and not easily detectable. The cream cheese is a blend of five exotic fruits and a touch of honey. It might take you a while to pick apart the flavours, if you manage to do it at all.’
He smirked at the daring edge to my tone, picked up the dessert and put a spoonful in his mouth. He closed his eyes and murmured in satisfaction before opening them and looking right at me.
‘Mango. Pineapple. Passion fruit. Coconut. And …’
His brows creased as he struggled to place the last one.
‘Guava,’ I finished for him. ‘You’re good, but not quite good enough.’
Two could play at this game of double meanings.
A slow smile curled his lips as he held my gaze. ‘Beautiful. I’m interested –’ he turned to his brother – ‘in having them cater.’
‘I agree!’ Sana responded enthusiastically. ‘Let’s proceed with them for the mehndi, and possibly the walima?’
I couldn’t believe it.
The Maliks began trying more of the desserts, grabbing them eagerly, murmuring their satisfaction and compliments. Morowa and I exchanged a look of sheer disbelief and joy.
‘May I get your company card?’ Karim suddenly asked Morowa, who grabbed one from the table and handed it to him.
‘Are everyone’s contact details on there?’
‘Yes,’ Morowa replied. ‘My husband’s number is at the bottom left and mine is on the right.’
‘And what about Miss Khan?’
Morowa looked at me and stuttered for a while, unsure of what to do. Instead of letting the awkwardness linger, I grabbed a pen, took the card from Karim’s hand and jotted my number on the reverse side.
When I handed it back to him, he threw me a roguish grin.
And so, Karim Malik had my number. I was too stunned to know how to feel.
I wanted to look busy, to organize the desserts or the cutlery, but I couldn’t seem to move or steal my gaze away from his.
Karim took another bite of the cheesecake and murmured contentedly. I felt the vibrations of that murmur reverberate along my spine. Then he put his plate down and whispered, ‘I’ll be seeing you, Miss Zara Khan.’
It sounded like a promise.