Chapter 5
The key to a successful matchmaking project was knowing as much about the couple in question as possible. That had been easy with her last two matches, but this one involved a stranger and a colleague, so Jia had to bring her A game.
Although Jaiman had tried to dissuade her from pursuing this project, he didn’t understand that the “Mimosa Match!” column and the possibility of helping hundreds of their readers find love was at stake. Jia wouldn’t let his disapproval stop her. She stifled a yawn and continued going through Charu’s Instagram. Her LinkedIn profile was open on another tab. Thankfully, she’d accepted Jia’s follow request within minutes. They already had each other’s numbers now that Charu was part of Mimosa’s WhatsApp group chat.
In her Instagram profile picture, Charu wore a lime-green lehenga and posed with her hands out, showing off the henna painted on her palms. The backdrop looked like someone’s wedding, judging by the flower arrangements and the people dancing in the background.
Jia grinned. Soon, Charu wouldn’t just be a guest at a wedding—she’d be the bride. She continued going through her social media. Charu seemed to be in her late twenties based on her LinkedIn profile and year of graduation. Like Monica had said, she had studied creative writing in college and gone on to earn a master’s degree in astrology, following it up with a job as assistant to her hometown’s most popular astrologer. Jia quirked a brow. Impressive.
Charu’s IG feed was full of moments from back home, the small town of Ratnagiri. A cousin’s engagement party. Ganesh Chaturthi festivities with her family. A friend’s wedding. A Diwali party, again with family. Her crystal collection. Tarot card decks. A different cousin’s wedding. Family obviously mattered to her as much as spirituality and faith did.
Next, Jia looked up Eshaan. Although they were colleagues and friends, she didn’t know him the way she knew Aunt Mona or Tanu.
“Let’s see what you’ve got for me, Mr. Bhargav,” Jia mumbled under her breath. Eshaan and Jia had followed each other on social media a long time ago. His LinkedIn profile boasted an impressive résumé, and he was around thirty years old. He was definitely financially stable. No photos of any exes or girlfriends on Instagram, but he’d left a reply under a picture at his best friend’s wedding last month after his friend teased him for still being single. Don’t worry bro, I’ll be sure to find a date to your next wedding! He also had a lot of pictures with his mom, which Jia thought was sweet, like the Mother’s Day photos he shared every year. He hadn’t missed one since starting his account.
Jia shut her eyes and exhaled. Close to six years since Mamma’s death, and the hole in Jia’s heart still hadn’t healed. Her phone buzzed from the bedside table, and she lunged at it, seeking a distraction and grinning when she saw the notification: an email in her Love Better with J inbox from her favorite follower-turned-penpal, TheReMix. They had an ongoing thread where they discussed her latest blog posts and everything going on in their lives.
Hey J!
How’s your week been since we last emailed? I loved your new post about the One theory. The whole concept of soulmates bothers me. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I was once so sure that I knew who “The One” was. I thought we were (for lack of a better word)…endgame. But that’s not how life works. Sadly.
Anyway, as much as we’ve talked about our love lives (or lack thereof), you’ve never told me what qualities you’d want in your future partner…and if you’ve ever met someone like that.
Talk soon,
TheReMix
Jia sighed. How frustrating that the first image that flashed into her mind when she thought about her future partner was Jaiman and his big brown eyes. She flexed her jaw, reminding herself that The Unfortunate Incident had been exactly that—a mistake—and reread TheReMix’s email. She didn’t know who they were, and they’d never shared personal details except to say they lived in Mumbai too and had stumbled upon her blog by accident, but they were her first and most engaged reader; in fact, they’d followed her literally ten minutes after she bought the domain and began posting on her blog one year ago. Within five months, they’d made the switch from chatting in the blog comments to emailing each other every few days. The smile returned to her face, and she hit Reply.
Hiiii!
I’ve had a very eventful week, honestly. Guess what? I have a plan set in motion to get my boss to approve my matchmaking column (it may involve a new matchmaking scheme)—stay tuned for the next blog post about it!
As for my future partner…I’ve thought about this a lot. They’d have to match me on every level, challenge me, and help me grow, but also make me laugh and giggle and feel things I’d only want to feel for them and no one else. Good looks are also a bonus!
Now you’ve got ME curious: Who’s this mysterious person from your past who you thought was The One? Sorry it didn’t work out…maybe I’ll set you up with someone someday when I start my business? Then you’ll be my first follower and first client—so cool!
J
Content with that response, Jia set her phone down and continued looking through Eshaan’s online profile, avoiding the photos with his mom. It was clear that Eshaan was marriage material, and he seemed to value family as much as Charu did. All Jia had to do now was talk to Charu about the matchmaking trial, and once that was sorted out, Eshaan and Charu would be on their way to the altar—and Jia, to her very own column.
A few days later, after getting an excited “Yes, please set me up with someone!” from Charu and finalizing a rough game plan for the #CheshaanProject, Jia marched into the Mimosa office, head held high, toward the marketing department. If she was going to make this work and set up someone she hadn’t known her entire life, she needed a wing woman to help her get this project in the bag. A fellow lady-at-arms on the battleground. But it didn’t quite go the way she thought it would. There was no applause, for one.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Damini stared at Jia. “You want to set her”—her eyes moved toward Charu, who was meditating at her desk—“up with him?” She jabbed a thumb in the direction of Eshaan Bhargav’s office. “And the entire matchmaking column is at stake?”
“Yeah, so?” Jia shrugged and sat down in a spare revolving chair. She set her gaze on Eshaan, who was typing something with an intense, perhaps sexy-to-other-people look at his laptop. “I’ve done my research. He’s family-oriented, financially stable, and his Hinge profile said he’s looking for something serious and long-term.”
“How on earth did you find his Hinge profile? You’re not on any dating apps.”
Jia winked. “I have my ways. As for Charu—”
“Charulata probably prays in front of a wall mounted with fifty murals and statues of holy deities every morning. Then follows it up with an astrological reading of her birth chart.” Damini scoffed. “Yeah, sounds like the perfect match.”
“Just because someone is a certain way or believes in certain things doesn’t mean they aren’t deserving of love,” Jia said, shaking her head.
Damini swiveled her chair closer to Jia’s. “Oh, Charulata certainly is deserving of love. Eshaan Bhargav, on the other hand?” She made a thumbs-down gesture. “What a shithead. Even the so-called Universe probably hates him.”
“He’s not all that bad—”
“Are you joking?” Damini lowered her voice. “You don’t work with him directly. You have no idea that he’s the worst boss ever.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had that experience, though his other interns do love him, not to mention the rest of the office.” It was true. If Jia was Miss Congeniality, Eshaan was Mr. Most Liked.
“I’d rather the Universe explode and kill me than have to work with him full-time after my internship,” Damini said.
“Speaking of the Universe and other mystical things…” Jia noticed Charu was done meditating, and ushered her over to their corner. “Charu! Join us.”
Charu adjusted her dupatta over her sunshine-yellow salwar kameez (a good color on her, Jia noted, as it brought out the mahogany brown in her otherwise black hair) and joined them. She leaned against Damini’s desk and said, “Good morning! How are you ladies celebrating Diwali this month?”
Jia grinned. This was the perfect opening for Phase Three of the #CheshaanProject—although she had yet to make Phase Two happen. “I’m thinking of throwing a little Diwali party at my place,” she told Charu. “Why don’t you sit?” She pulled a chair out from someone else’s desk and patted the spot.
“A Diwali house party? Wow.” Charu sat down, adjusting the pleats of her kameez. “Do you have a big enough house, Jia? In a city like Mumbai?”
Jia nodded. Thanks to Papa’s decades in business and Mamma’s high-paying corporate job, Jia had never had to worry about money, savings, or finances. It was a blessing most people never got to have, and while Jia sometimes wondered what life would be like if she weren’t a Deshpande, she usually just felt…gratitude.
Her family money meant she had all the privacy in the world even though she lived with Papa, because their house had two stories, four bedrooms, five bathrooms, three balconies, and one backyard. She didn’t have to juggle her career and taking care of the house, like a lot of women were forced to, because the Deshpandes had one housekeeper and one cook. Oh, make that two. She’d forgotten about Jaiman Patil, chef on call at the Deshpande household.
“Sounds fab,” Charu said, eyes wide. Jia had never heard anyone their age abbreviate “fabulous” like that, but maybe it was a small-town thing. “I’m going to miss Diwali in Ratnagiri. Back home, we’d pull out all the stops. Every street lit up, every house bursting with energy, fireworks until the wee hours of the morning. I’m sure you big-city folk know how to celebrate Diwali, but not the way we do.” She grinned at them smugly.
“Well, then why don’t you help me plan the whole thing?” Jia said, clapping her hands together. “I’ll handle the guest list. You do everything else. I’ll show you around sometime later this week, okay?”
“Sounds perfect!” Charu’s eyes fell on Jia’s hands, and she asked, rather shyly, “You have such nice hands. Would it be okay if I read your palm, Jia? I just did a course on palmistry and need someone to practice on.”
Damini burst out laughing. Jia shot her a glare. “Of course,” she started, then backtracked when she noticed Eshaan had walked out of his office to grab a drink of water. “But you know, I don’t really believe in any of this. And neither does Damini. But I think Eshaan does. Eshaan!”
Eshaan, on his way back to his office, stopped by, leaning his hip against the desk. “Hello, ladies. Having a gossip session in between work, are we?”
“Just because we’re women, you assume we’re gossiping?” Damini rolled her eyes. “Wow, Mimosa is such an open-minded workplace.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Eshaan said, a tick in his jaw. “Get to work on the copy for the next set of IG reels. Now.”
Damini mumbled an insult under her breath as Jia forced her lips into a grin and stood up. “Eshaan, Charu wanted to practice palm reading on someone. I thought you’d be the perfect candidate. I mean, you have such nice hands.”
“I do?” Eshaan grinned. “Sure.” He took Jia’s seat and held his hands out for Charu. “Which one?”
Charu took his left hand and studied it, running her fingers over the texture of his palm. “Nice hands, indeed,” she murmured. And Jia knew Phase Two was off to a great start.
There were three phases to any good matchmaking plan, and the rest was up to the couple (or perhaps the Universe, as Charu would have it). Mess up even one phase, and you’d risk fucking up the entire game plan.
Phase One: The Meet-cute. How do you stage an accidental run-in for the couple in a way that A) sparks attraction, B) leads to a conversation, and C) proves the matchmaker’s hypothesis that there’s something there beyond the initial attraction? Charu and Eshaan had already taken care of Phase One for Jia.
Phase Two: Physical and Emotional Proximity, which would happen now. How do you get the couple to meet in close quarters—or, better yet, to touch and establish physical intimacy and comfort while they’re having some sort of discussion that’s close to one person’s heart? The combination of touch and talk worked wonders for your brain’s neurochemistry. Falling in love was inevitable.
And Phase Three: The First Move. How do you get one of them to make the first move, now that physical and emotional closeness has been established? By subtly reminding the more upfront person that both of them are single—and clearly, they’re good for each other.
“You have a Fire hand,” Charu was saying. She trailed a finger along a random line on Eshaan’s palm and added, “You’re a very restless person, I see. Not too big on patience.”
“I’m not,” Eshaan agreed. He shot Jia a bemused look.
“When’s your birthday?” Charu asked next. She bent lower to give his palm a closer look.
“January thirteenth.”
“A Capricorn!” She gasped and turned to Jia. “An Earth sign with a Fire palm. How curious!”
Damini turned in her chair and studied the couple, forehead creased. She folded her arms and watched as Charu listed out traits that were evidently, by the look on Eshaan’s face, true for him. “Charismatic. A born leader. And yet, you’re quite difficult to impress, aren’t you? Like, people often have to work so hard to please you.”
“Sounds about right,” Damini mumbled.
Eshaan laughed. “That’s actually spot-on, yeah.” He locked eyes with Jia and mouthed, Wow!
Jia waved bye to Damini and, grinning broadly, walked to her desk, her Jimmy Choos clip-clopping their way there. Most of the office had arrived by now, and she nodded in greeting at her fellow co-workers. Well, well, well. The #CheshaanProject was going to be easier than she’d thought. Estimated date of completion of Phase Three? The Diwali party, the most romantic night Eshaan and Charu would ever have. One week to go.