Chapter 13
Jia had never crashed a first date before. Not with her uncle and aunt, and certainly not with Tanu and Anshuman. But the stakes had never been this high with any other setup, so there she was, at six-fifteen on Friday night, sitting at a table in the corner of the coffee shop where Eshaan and Charu were having their first date.
No, of course she wasn’t spying. That would be crossing a line. She was simply supervising the date from a distance to make sure everything went well.
Jia thought it was nice of Eshaan to suggest a coffee shop instead of a bar. Charu didn’t drink, after all, and she would probably feel more comfortable in a brightly lit café than a dark booth with loud music. Jia grinned as she pretended to stare at a blank Word document on her laptop. Her disguise included a baseball cap, an oversized cricket jersey she’d stolen from Papa’s closet, and jeans, for crying out loud—an outfit she wouldn’t normally be caught dead in. However, sacrifices had to be made for the #CheshaanProject.
Jia’s curious eyes drifted above her laptop. Eshaan and Charu sat across from each other at one of the center tables. He leaned forward, his gaze set on Charu, who was talking animatedly about something and gesturing with her hands. It looked like she’d already forgotten about Manoj.
A server brought over their drinks. Charu took a sip of hers and said something. Eshaan threw his head back and laughed, nearly sloshing his coffee on the floor, then laughed harder as she giggled, handing him a tissue. Oh, they were falling in love already, weren’t they?
Jia shifted her chair forward, hoping to catch at least a few snippets of their conversation, but someone tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey,” the man said, “can I join you for a moment?”
“Uh, sure,” she replied, forcing out a polite smile. What was this about?
The man sat down across from her, blocking her view of #Cheshaan with his large frame. Jia cursed internally. “So, I, um,” he stammered out.
Jia bit her lip, trying to find Charu and Eshaan behind his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I just wanted to say I love your jersey. Are you planning on watching the cricket match tonight?”
Sighing, Jia turned her attention to the man. He was handsome, with a tattoo sleeve on both arms and a full beard that was surely a turn-on for many women. It didn’t do anything for Jia, though—she didn’t quite like the idea of kissing someone with a beard and potentially ruining her skin. Clean-shaven Jaiman was more her type, with that full mouth and the prominent Adam’s apple that she never got a chance to feel against her lips—
Jia cleared her throat and tuned back in to the conversation with the man, hoping the flush creeping up her chest hadn’t reached her face yet. “Sorry, what?”
“I’m heading to a sports bar in Lower Parel to catch tonight’s match.” He shrugged. “Want to join me?”
She blinked. A man was asking her out while she wore this thoroughly un-Jia-Deshpande-like disguise? She didn’t even have lipstick on! “I’m sure you’re very nice,” she started, “but I’m actually busy with—” Her eyes finally found Eshaan and Charu’s table, and she gasped. Both seats were empty.
“I have to go, sorry, take care,” Jia said in one breath, pushing her chair back and looking around the café. The man walked back to his table, shoulders slumped. Part of Jia felt bad, but panic was the more dominant emotion right now. Charu’s purse was still on the table, but where was she? And what about—
“Jia?”
She spun around toward the counter, having recognized that voice. Shit, her cover was blown. “Hi, Eshaan.”
“I knew that was you.” He smiled triumphantly at her, folding his arms. “What are you doing here?”
Jia frowned. “Where’s Charu?”
“Bathroom,” Eshaan answered. He was still grinning. “That’s an impressive disguise. But it couldn’t fool me.” His eyes swept over her body, lingering on each part. “The cricket jersey’s kinda hot.”
“Uh-huh,” she got out, her heart hammering in her chest. The way he was looking at her—was he checking her out? Why would he, when he was on a date with Charu? This didn’t make any sense.
“You came here to spy on me and Charu,” Eshaan remarked, eyebrow quirked. He stepped closer to her. “Did it really take you this long to realize how you feel?”
Jia sucked in a breath. “Wait, what?” She wiped her palms on her stupid, uncomfortable jeans. “What are you saying?”
He took one of her hands in his and cupped her cheek with the other. “My plan worked. If I’d known dating one of your friends would make you come to your senses, I would have asked Damini out a long time ago.”
As icky as that thought was, Jia’s mind wasn’t on what he was saying as much as how he was looking at her, the hunger in his eyes confirmed by the way he licked his lips. She inhaled, trying to summon the strength to pull away, but she was frozen in place, and next thing she knew, Eshaan’s mouth was on hers, his tongue trying to find its way down her throat.
What. The. Fuck?
Jia pushed him away with as much force as she could muster, and he staggered back into a chair, which crashed to the floor. People looked up at the noise, and a hush fell over the café except for the cheery, poorly timed pop song playing on the speakers. “What is wrong with you?” Jia said, trying to keep her voice low. “You’re on a date with someone else and you’re kissing me?”
Eshaan shook his head, evidently aghast. “You’re the one who’s spying on me while I’m on a date. In a silly disguise, no less!”
Her cheeks heated as some people in the café laughed, her eyes burning with tears that she wouldn’t let fall. “Why would you think I’m into you, Eshaan? I was the one who told you to ask her out.”
“I thought it took until then for you to understand that we’d be perfect together!” He was borderline yelling.
“You and Charu are good together, Eshaan.” Jia clenched her jaw. “Not us.”
“Charu dresses like an auntie from the eighties. You’re the one I want, Jia.” He looked past Jia’s shoulder, the vein in his forehead about ready to burst.
Only then did Jia turn toward the washroom door where Charu stood, her mouth agape, her dupatta clutched tightly in her hand. Their eyes met. “Charu, I—”
“I’m so sorry,” Charu whispered, eyes wide. She ducked her head, grabbed her purse from the table, and scampered toward the door.
“No, wait!” Jia packed up her stuff in a hurry. “Charu!”
As she started for the exit, Eshaan tugged on Jia’s wrist, his eyes narrowed. “Are you seriously telling me you don’t want me?”
She yanked her hand away, glaring back in equal measure. “I don’t.” She ran out, looking in every direction for Charu—but she must have hailed a ride from the taxi stand across the road and left. “Goddamn it,” Jia mumbled. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, and she pulled off the stupid baseball cap and shoved it inside her laptop bag, letting her hair settle on her shoulders.
Charu didn’t pick up the phone, nor did she respond to Jia’s seven apology texts. Sighing, Jia got into her car, strapped herself in, and finally let out the tears fogging her vision. How could she have been so stupid?
It was almost seven p.m., and Manoj’s set was nearing its end. The Mimosa employees were all there, except for Jia, Charu, and Eshaan. Jaiman was so sure this had something to do with Jia’s matchmaking—no, mis-matchmaking—scheme. If he was half as obsessed with Charu’s love life as Jia was, he would have told Manoj what was going on, that Charu wasn’t thinking with her own head or heart, and encouraged him to ask her out again.
But he wasn’t obsessed with Charu’s love life, so he decided to put his faith in Jia Deshpande’s matchmaking skills and hope she’d come out a winner for the third time.
He returned to his laptop, where he was looking over the analytics for the three ads he had set up earlier for the pub’s Instagram account. Promoting the Ladies’ Night buy-two-get-two drinks offer had seemed like a good idea, but maybe he hadn’t set up the demographics correctly, because there were only four comments, all from angry men who were complaining that there was no such thing as Men’s Night at any pub in the country.
Then he opened up another tab and logged in to his Squarespace dashboard, having finally relented to creating a website for the pub. He was still using the free fourteen-day trial period, but hadn’t made any headway because he didn’t know shit about web design.
Why couldn’t his dreams be easy to achieve, free of cost? Why couldn’t life just be simple? With a sigh, he shut down his laptop and headed out to the bar. People cheered as Manoj finished strumming his guitar and took a bow before signing off for the weekend. As though he’d flicked a switch when he stepped off the stage, his energy went from entertaining and fun to almost…defeated. Gone was the cheery Manoj from last week’s Diwali party. Thankfully, his comedy and music act were still top-notch.
“Good night, Jaiman sir,” Manoj called out in a weak voice as he headed for the exit.
Jaiman nodded at him before turning to Anshuman, who had finished the last of the foaming drink in his mug. “Another beer?”
His best friend shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. A beer a day keeps the doctor okay.”
Jaiman chuckled. A woman waved at him from a table, and he turned to her eagerly, hoping she and her four friends would order another round, but all she did was gesture with her hand and call for the check. With a small sigh, he asked one of the bartenders on duty to handle her billing.
Anshuman frowned. “Hey, you all right?”
“Yeah.” Jaiman exhaled. He hadn’t admitted this to anyone yet, but maybe it was time. He made sure his employees were out of earshot and whispered, “The pub hasn’t made profits in three months.”
“Oh.” Anshuman’s gaze softened. “Shit, man, I’m sorry. You know what, that calls for another beer.”
“Please.” Jaiman rolled his eyes, though a small smile escaped him. “Don’t take pity on me.”
“It’s not pity, it’s love.” Anshuman scooted closer to the bar and lowered his voice. “If you ask Tanu’s dad for help, I’m sure he’d—”
“Anshuman.” Jaiman held a hand up, trying to keep his voice steady. His friend had hit a nerve. “I don’t need to ask anyone for help. I’ll figure things out.”
“Okay.” Anshuman bowed his head and pushed the beer mug away, dropping some cash on the counter instead. “I’ll head home, then. Tanu’s probably waiting.”
“Yeah.” Jaiman watched his best friend walk out. He bit his lip and headed to his office, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, releasing the dampness from his eyes. He’d considered asking Devdutt Uncle for help, but that wasn’t an option. Uncle and Dad were best friends who stayed in touch despite the distance. Dad already didn’t believe in Jaiman’s dream, but if he knew for a fact that the pub wasn’t profitable, he’d make Jaiman move to America and work in the family business. Dad had leverage on him. Most of Jaiman’s so-called assets were his parents’—the apartment, the car…
And Jaiman would lose everything that wasn’t his parents’, as well. The smiling regulars at his pub, his life in Mumbai, his found family…and Jia. That was not an option. It would never be an option, not unless Jaiman had no choice.
He headed back to the counter just as the door to the pub opened. Charu walked in alone, wiping her red eyes with her dupatta. Jaiman’s eyebrows shot up. She had clearly been crying.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jaiman walked over to her, his forehead crinkled. “Do you want something to drink? Maybe a mocktail?”
She nodded meekly and sat down at the bar. “Surprise me,” she croaked.
Jaiman got to work mixing a virgin pi?a colada while Charu blew her nose into a tissue from the bar. Her eyes went to the stage where Manoj did his shows, and another tear trickled down her cheek.
He wedged a pineapple slice on the glass and slid the mocktail over to her. “Now tell me what happened.”
Charu took a sip of the drink, then said, “I had my first date with Eshaan today. Well”—she shook her head—“or so I thought.” She looked back at the crowd of Mimosa employees in the pub and lowered her voice. “Jia was there too. In a disguise—”
“In a disguise?” Shit, Jaiman thought, rubbing the base of his neck. Jia must have wanted to be there to do damage control in case something went awry.
“Yeah. I didn’t notice her until…”
“Until?”
She sucked on the side of the straw. “Until I got back from the bathroom and saw Eshaan kissing her.”
Jaiman couldn’t help it; his fists clenched, and he looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back his emotions. Fuck. He might have seen this coming from a mile away, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Eshaan kissed Jia. In front of Charu. His heart broke, not just for the sweet, kind woman sitting before him, but for himself too. Did Jia like the kiss? Did she kiss Eshaan back, even if for a moment?
“Jia pushed him away,” Charu went on, rubbing her nose with the back of her palm, “but he said he wants her, not me. I’m guessing he asked me out to make her jealous.”
Jaiman handed her some more tissues. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”
She blew her nose again and smiled ruefully. “Maybe this is karma for breaking Manoj’s heart. What goes around comes around, right?”
He sighed. “Don’t say that—”
“It’s fine.” Charu sipped her mocktail. “I’m not okay now, but I will be, once I process my emotions and release them.”
“Is that a spiritual thing?” Jaiman raised a brow. “I suppose I shouldn’t tell you not to cry, then.”
“Everything is a spiritual thing,” she shot back, almost chuckling at him from over the top of her virgin pi?a colada. “And crying is therapeutic. More therapeutic than love, at least.”
He hung his head. “Yeah. You’re right about that.”
There was silence while he prepared other drinks until she said, “Jaiman, I know we just met a few weeks ago, but you’ve been very kind to me. I see now why Jia is so fond of you.”
“I wouldn’t say she’s fond of me.” Jaiman avoided her gaze and wiped the already clean table with a cloth. “She’s only friends with me because we practically grew up together.”
“It doesn’t look that way to me.” Charu shrugged, her puffy red eyes finally dry. “I’ll take an Uber home.” She finished her drink and rummaged in her purse. “How much—”
“Hey.” Jaiman placed a hand over hers. “This one’s on me.”
She brightened. “Thank you.”
Jaiman escorted her outside and waited until her car got there. Once the Uber turned round the bend, he headed back inside and texted Jia. Charu dropped by, told me what happened. You ok?
Jia:
Cried in my car until a complete stranger knocked on my window to ask if I was fine. Does that answer your question?
Jaiman:
Go shopping before the stores close, it’ll take your mind off things
And how about I cook your favorite butter chicken tomorrow night?
Kk
Smiling, he put his phone aside and got back to work. If there were two things that could cheer Jia up, they were shopping and Jaiman’s special Delhi butter chicken.