Chapter 17
When Jia handed Jaiman his vanilla spice breakfast granola on Wednesday morning, she didn’t think the first words out of his mouth would be “My archenemy is throwing a party next weekend.”
She blinked at him, resting her hands on her hips. “Who is this archenemy?”
Jaiman leaned across the bar counter, his citrusy scent heavy in the air, and showed her an email invitation on his phone.
Jia went through it, her eyebrows furrowed. Vodka Vada. She’d heard that name before and seen the sign next door while driving here. Atul from Mimosa’s food and drink section had mentioned the new South Indian pub’s launch event in passing the other day, claiming that multiple B-list celebrities would be in attendance. As for Harish Chandran…she vaguely remembered him from Jaiman’s graduation ceremony. Wasn’t he the one who’d gone up onstage to receive first prize for culinary excellence? Jaiman had gotten second prize and refused to feel happy about it all night.
Now Harish was hosting an official launch party right next door. She couldn’t imagine how Jaiman must feel. He hadn’t done an event like this when J’s Pub opened; his opening night had only included a fun, intimate family event with the Deshpandes.
Then her eyes fell on the last line of the invitation. PS: Don’t forget to bring your date! Something lurched in her gut. Who would Jaiman bring to the party? They had stopped discussing their love lives with each other since The Unfortunate Incident, but knowing Jaiman’s track record, he probably had tons of options. He was a casual dater, after all.
She looked back up at Jaiman and returned the phone to him. “Are you gonna be okay?”
He smiled, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I will, if you’ll be my date?”
Jia sucked in a breath. That moment they’d had on Sunday, perhaps so close to another kiss, was still fresh in her memory. Obviously, they were both avoiding talking about it, but…was he now asking her out? Her mind jumped to the possibility that he meant it as a date-date. That he felt something for her beyond what he felt for all the women he’d “landed.”
Regardless, Jia would play it cool. So she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and teased, “What if I say no?”
Jaiman laughed, the sound echoing in the empty pub. “Then I won’t eat your granola, and I’ll tell Devdutt Uncle you refused to make me any.”
“He’d know you’re lying,” she shot back. “He sees me pack your granola every morning.”
“Maybe I’ll tell him you packed it for a secret boyfriend.”
For some reason, Jia thought of TheReMix. Her mouth went dry. “You wouldn’t,” she said, fuming, as her cheeks colored. Papa would freak out at the thought of his baby daughter seeing someone when he knew she hadn’t ever had a boyfriend. He had had a terrible reaction to Tanu introducing Anshuman to him as “the doctor next door. Oh, and my boyfriend.” A terrible ulcer, to be precise. He was convinced he was going to die until Anshuman checked him over, prescribed some meds, and earned Papa’s stamp of approval.
Jaiman folded his arms and quirked a brow. “You doubt me, Jia Deshpande?”
Jia sighed. “Fine. I’ll be there.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, then added, “Thanks.”
“You owe me two Whipped Roses!” she said before heading back to her car, a smile on her face. She couldn’t wait for this party.
How was it possible for Vodka Vada to already have so many hits on Google? After finishing breakfast, Jaiman sat in one of the booths in the pub instead of his office, scrolling through the search results. One of the top results was an interview in Food Wine magazine’s weekly digest where Harish hyped up the food menu, claiming it included original recipes passed down from generation to generation of the Chandran family. “As for the drinks,” he said, “whether you want a classic cocktail like the LIIT or something unique, like the SIIT—that’s South Indian Iced Tea, my personal invention—we have it all!”
Jaiman made a face. South Indian Iced Tea? Maybe it included toddy or palm wine, which were popular alcoholic beverages sourced from that part of the country, based on what he remembered from his spirits and beverage management class.
Goddamn it. That was creative, like Flora had said. He pounded his fist against the table, then shut the laptop and walked around his empty pub. He’d hit the gym at six this morning, after barely four hours of sleep, but it hadn’t done much for his restless energy. He rummaged in his work bag, then sat himself down on the barstool and flipped through his personal recipe diary, things he enjoyed making on his own time. He reread some of his favorites—the ginger chicken curry and jasmine rice (a classic Thai dish), the dhokla sushi with carrot and cucumber (inspired by his Gujarati classmate who’d done an internship in Japan at a sushi bar), the vegan dahi sev puri chaat (created during the semester Flora had sworn off dairy but still craved savory, lip-smacking Indian chaat)—and only then did his frustration ease as the reminder set in that he, too, was creative. He, too, was worthy of breaking even, if not making profits. It wasn’t just Harish and Flora who had skill. Jaiman did too.
At least Jia would join him at the launch party. He wouldn’t have to face Harish alone. Harish, Mr. Had a Date Every Week of Culinary School, would probably be flocked by a gaggle of beautiful women. But they could never compare to Jia, so it didn’t matter. He smiled to himself and grabbed his phone, shooting off a text to Flora.
Jaiman:
So Jia’s in for the launch party. Did you find a date?
By the time he let in his employees around eleven, she’d replied.
Flora:
Yesss, a very, very sexy male model. He doesn’t eat or drink anything other than boiled eggs and kale smoothies though—some weird diet—so I don’t know what he’ll do there.
He snorted out loud, then clamped his mouth shut, embarrassed, when one of the servers gave him a weird look.
Then why is he joining you? Does he looooove you?
As his phone buzzed, the chefs arrived, and Jaiman helped them open the kitchen. Soon after, a delivery guy walked in to pick up the first order of the day. Jaiman packed the chicken tikka burger and cheesy fries and handed it to him, then checked his phone when it vibrated again.
Flora:
I wish he loved me, he’s SO hot lol. No, I hooked him up with his talent agent last year, so he owes me one.
See you soon. Can’t wait to show Harish his place!!!
Smiling, Jaiman slid his phone back into his pocket. Hopefully she was right, and Vodka Vada wouldn’t be too much of a threat to J’s Pub. Harish was already arrogant, pompous, and rich. Neither his ego nor his wallet needed any more inflating.
Jaiman told his employees he’d be back later in the afternoon and got into his car. Today was Wednesday, his first date with the Bumble woman—or rather, his first date with anyone in a year. The idea of dinner and drinks had felt too intimate, so he’d asked her if she’d be up for lunch instead. It was the less romantic option, he knew, but until he was sure he was ready to start dating seriously, he wanted to play it safe.
It was a two-step process. The first step was to meet Kritika at the Italian restaurant he’d picked out. The second step was to be open to the fact that anything could happen—Anshuman’s words, not his. “You haven’t had sex in, what, a year?” he’d said earlier when Jaiman told him about the date. “If something happens, let it. Don’t overthink every little thing like you always do.”
Jaiman snorted as he cruised along the Sea Link. This wasn’t about sex. This was about letting someone other than Jia Deshpande into his heart, which was easier said than done, considering he was more excited about taking her to his sworn enemy’s launch party than about going on this date right now.
He handed his car keys to the valet at the Italian restaurant and checked his watch. He was right on time. He was led to a table for two by the corner, where Kritika was already waiting. She looked pretty in a printed orange sundress with her hair in a messy ponytail. When she hugged him in greeting, he caught a whiff of her perfume: vanilla. Nothing like the roses that usually intoxicated him.
No. Don’t think about Jia right now.Jaiman returned the hug politely and reminded himself that this lunch date was about embracing new beginnings, not picking at old wounds.
Jia, Charu, and Damini sat at a table in the office cafeteria, having lunch. Damini was listening absently as Charu spoke about the new Human Design course she was studying and how she was considering doing a free chart reading for everyone at work.
But Jia’s eyes were on the couple sitting five tables away: Eshaan and Monica. She squinted to get a better look at them from across the crowded cafeteria. Were her eyes deceiving her, or were Monica’s fingers sliding into his palm? Was the table so cramped that they just had to run their feet up each other’s legs?
She wrinkled her nose. Look at Eshaan parading his newfound fondness for Monica around the entire office building mere weeks after kissing Jia and claiming they would have been “perfect” together.
Jia tuned back in to the Human Design conversation, but Charu had already moved on to talking about some planet being in retrograde and how it was going to fuck everything up even more than it was already fucked up. Great. Just what Jia needed.
At least she had the party next weekend at Vodka Vada. She’d be the hottest woman there, she’d keep Jaiman busy and away from his rival, and she’d drink two Whipped Roses at J’s Pub afterward because man, that cocktail was just too good to pass on. Also, it was going to be a packed event. Maybe she could even find a new match for Charu.
“So,” Charu continued, “things will probably calm down by the end of the month, but then Mars also goes into retrograde a week later.”
“Uh-huh.” Damini took a big chug of her Red Bull and rolled her eyes at Jia from behind the can.
“Charu,” Jia interrupted as she started explaining what Mars retrograde meant, “I was thinking we could set up your dating profiles after work today. How does that sound?”
Charu’s lips puckered. “I don’t think I want to meet The One on a dating app.”
Jia’s first instinct was to tell her that “The One” didn’t exist, but she didn’t have time for that. “Everyone who’s single is online now,” she explained. “There’s a wide pool of amazing men on the apps.”
“Are either of you on any dating apps, then?” Charu asked, frowning. “You’re both single and alone too, just like me.”
Damini laughed. “Single, yes. Alone? Not a chance.”
“No, I’m not on the apps anymore,” Jia explained, biting her lip. “I used them for a few weeks last year, but ultimately decided they’re not for me.”
“Then they’re not for me, either.” Charu shook her head, pushing away her empty plate. “I don’t want my love story to hinge on whether a man thinks I’m pretty enough to swipe right on. Sorry, Jia.”
Jia looked at Damini for help, but she was wiping her hands on a tissue and avoiding her gaze. “All right,” she said finally. “Maybe a dating mixer? I’ll look them up later today.”
“Sure. I have a lot of work to get to.” Charu slung her purse over one shoulder. “See y’all upstairs.”
Damini let out a low whistle once it was just the two of them. “So…what are you gonna do now?”
Jia forced herself to smile. “I’ll figure something out. This isn’t over yet.”
They followed Charu up to the Mimosa office and got back to work. Jia checked her email and let out a scoff. Monica had just sent in some edits on Jia’s “Best Sex Positions for Him” article. Maybe she was done playing footsie with Eshaan.
Jia sat back in her chair, her hands resting on her keyboard. For some reason, Charu’s words were playing in her head on a loop. You’re single and alone too. You’re single and alone too. You’re single and alone too.
She snapped her eyes shut and breathed in deeply. Technically, yes, that was true. But Jia wasn’t quite lonely…was she? She had a full life. A side hustle that satisfied her creative potential. A dream that kept her on her toes. Family and friends she’d die for.
She didn’t need a romantic partner to make her happy—she was happy already. Still, as images of Tanu and Anshuman, Papa and Mamma, and her uncle and aunt flashed in her mind, all of them perfectly happy on their own but making each other happier anyway, Jia wondered if needing someone and wanting someone were two very different things.
Jia clicked out of her Mimosa inbox half-heartedly. Not a lot of people were back in the office from lunch, so on a whim, she checked the Love Better with J dashboard and responded to some comments on her most recent post.
And when she saw TheReMix’s name and comment on her screen, wishing her a happy blog anniversary, she grinned and nearly squealed out loud in front of the whole office.
Nearly, mind you.