Chapter 26
Christmas Eve. A time of celebration, of hope, of merriment and joy. A day that brought the realization that soon, this year would blend into the next one, and you’d get another 365 chances to make your life the best it could be.
But tonight, Jia didn’t quite feel all that merry. Joy to the world? Fuck that. She stood by the bar at the office Christmas party with Damini, watching people have fun from a distance.
Mimosa’s employees were now regulars at Harish’s gourmet pub, so of course they’d voted to host the party at Vodka Vada. The pub was still open to other customers on the ground floor, but the upper level was reserved solely for Mimosa.
It wasn’t just the weight of the impending Mimosa/blog collaboration decision that made this night so sucky, not to mention that TheReMix still hadn’t replied. What made the night especially sucky was that she and Jaiman still weren’t talking like usual, and she was stuck at a work event on a night that should have been spent with family. Why did all of Mimosa’s office parties have to be mandatory? Not to mention, they were doing Secret Santa this year for “team building” and the opening of presents wouldn’t happen with the whole staff until eleven p.m.
Jia had lucked out on the Secret Santa front; she’d picked an editorial intern’s name and was gifting them a mug with a literary quote on it. Safe bet. If she’d picked Monica’s name, she would have asked Charu to hex her. Did spiritual people even know how to hex others?
“How bored are you?” Damini asked, deadpan, as she took a sip of her Red Bull. She’d tried to order a vodka soda, but Harish had already told his employees not to serve alcohol to the underage interns at Mimosa.
“Very bored,” Jia agreed, then stomped her red stilettos on the floor. “Come on, let’s dance, or talk to people, or something.”
“Look, I see these people at work five days a week.” Damini shrugged. “Why should I waste even more of my precious time and energy on them?”
“So instead, you’re going to spend your evening glaring at anything that moves?”
“Pretty much, yes.”
Jia gave up. She leaned against the wall and drank some of her mimosa, straightening a crease on her pleated pink skirt. She’d always been a lightweight, and the drink was starting to hit her. The last time she’d gotten drunk-drunk, she’d tried to kiss Jaiman, and now that things were even weirder between them, she had sworn to herself she wouldn’t go beyond two cocktails.
Charu approached them from the washroom, wiping her damp hands on her Anarkali suit. She ordered a virgin pi?a colada at the bar, bopping her head in time to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” playing on the sound system. Eshaan and Monica were slow-dancing to the song while everyone around them was jamming to the beat. “I guess they’re together, then.”
Jia made a hmph noise as she put down her empty glass. “They’re not going to last. Anyone with eyes can see that.”
“Well, I’m happy for him.” Charu smiled, but Jia noticed her eyes were shining just the slightest. Was she thinking about her own relationship status? “Everyone deserves love. Have either of you ever been in love?”
Jia almost scoffed. Thankfully, Damini spoke up first, setting her Red Bull down on the counter. “I guess I loved this girl from high school, but she was straight, so I never told her.”
“You’ll meet the right girl someday,” Charu said, accepting her mocktail from the bartender. She took a sip and added, “You’re only twenty. It’ll happen when the Universe means it to, and you’ll find your way to her.”
“You and your Universe,” Damini grumbled, then turned to Jia with a twinkle in her eye. “What do you think your ideal relationship would look like?”
Jia shrugged. She’d imagined her consummate relationship a hundred times over the years, always picturing a tall, beardless man who was blurry and out of focus as he held her hand while walking their two dogs. He would kiss her the way she’d only been kissed once before, and make love to her as though she was the only person he wanted.
Would Radha Sethia be able to find a man like that for her? And, more importantly, would that man be enough reason for Jia to let go of her attraction to Jaiman and TheReMix?
“Jia?” Charu prodded her on the shoulder.
She smiled, ignoring the growing lump in her throat. “I haven’t given it much thought. Um, I think I’m going to get some air.” Before they could reply, she scurried down the staircase to the ground floor where the regular patrons were drinking and dancing, celebrating the festive season. It was hot and stuffy; there were probably over a hundred people at VV tonight. Jia pushed past the ma?tred’s table and walked out into the humid Mumbai streets. She took big gulps of air, wiping her hands on her dress. Wasn’t love supposed to be the emotion that gave you the most joy? The one that made you feel safe and secure and warm in all the right places? So why was the mere thought of moving on with her life, with her heart, making her so anxious?
Her eyes went to J’s Pub and the bar counter visible through the glass door. The place looked busy, more so than she’d seen in a while. Jaiman stood behind the counter, talking to a group of pretty women all seated at the bar. They giggled at something he said, and he gave them a charming smile. Would he take one of them home with him? Don’t think about that. She forced herself to look away and breathed some more polluted air as cars whizzed past the pub.
“You okay?”
Jia spun around and smiled at Harish, who was looking both dorky and handsome in brown trousers and a teal blazer, a lit cigarette in his fingers. “I’m fine,” she replied. “Just needed some air.”
He frowned. His eyes went to J’s Pub, where she had been looking, and he took a long puff of his cigarette. “You can skip the office party and go to him. I’m sure Mimosa can survive one night without Jia Deshpande.”
She scratched the base of her neck. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Jaiman and I are in the midst of yet another fight. I have no interest in talking to him tonight.”
Harish jerked his head back, evidently surprised. “A fight? That’s weird. He adores you. It was obvious to me at the launch party.”
Jia almost laughed, looking up at the partly cloudy night sky. Only two stars twinkled down at her. “He’s the most confusing man I’ve ever known.”
“He’s loyal,” Harish said, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air, thankfully away from Jia’s face. “The man knows how to hold a grudge, especially against me, but he’ll do anything for the people he loves.”
“What was he like in culinary school?”
“He and Flora were inseparable.” Harish’s laughter boomed. “Even though they broke up after, like, two months of dating. Jaiman always seemed like a lonely guy. I guess he just needed a special someone in his life, even if she only filled the role of ‘best friend.’?”
Jia paused before asking, “Why did they break up?”
“Some people are better off as friends.” He lowered his cigarette from his lips and added, “If there’s one thing that can’t be forced, it’s chemistry. You either have it or you don’t, and they never had it.”
The door to J’s Pub opened, and a group of people walked out. When they saw Harish, they waved him goodbye. Jia raised a questioning brow, and Harish explained, “I told them to go to J’s Pub instead of VV because we were too full and they wanted a pool table. We don’t have one.”
She frowned. “Jaiman doesn’t need your pity.”
“Which is why I won’t tell him.” Harish scoffed, stubbing his cigarette out on the ground with his boot. “He’ll think I had ulterior motives. Jaiman Patil is as stubborn with his hatred as he is with his love.”
He led the way back inside Vodka Vada, saying bye to Jia at the staircase and then walking into his office. Jia caught a split second’s glimpse of a woman in blue sitting at his desk before he closed the door behind him.
She walked up the stairs to the Mimosa party to find Eshaan making a speech. “…my fourth Christmas party at Mimosa, but my first one with a partner by my side.” He spotted Jia and his grin grew wider. “HR told me to be open about it, so here’s the official announcement of my engagement to Monica Shroff.”
Cheers exploded across the room. Jia whipped her head toward Monica, now walking over to Eshaan to peck him on the cheek. She wiggled her left hand—and the rock on her finger—at everyone. How was this possible? Eshaan had kissed Jia only a few weeks ago, and now he was getting married to her boss, of all people?
Atul cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Tell us the full story!”
Monica actually giggled and took the mic from Eshaan. “We matched with each other on a matrimonial app and, well, when you know, you know.”
“To Eshaan and Monica!” someone from the HR department screamed, and everyone echoed their approval of the worst match in history.
After people dispersed back to their seats or the dance floor, Jia looked around for her friends, her shoulders sagging. Charu and Damini waved to her from a table, so she ordered another mimosa and joined them. It was only nine p.m. T-minus two hours until the Secret Santa exchange.
This is going to be the longest Christmas Eve of my life,Jia thought numbly, as Monica’s shrill laugh cut through the air.
Now that Manoj was doing two gigs a week, the pub was seeing higher footfall. J’s Pub was almost packed tonight during Manoj’s special holiday set, from the regulars playing pool and dancing drunkenly by their booths to the popular Christmas hits and remixes on the sound system, to fresh faces who said they’d come here because Vodka Vada was too crowded and Harish Chandran had sent them over.
That’s nice,Jaiman thought morosely. My archnemesis is sending me sympathy customers. How sweet of him. He knew Jia was at VV tonight; Mimosa was hosting their Christmas party there, and he guessed she wouldn’t drop by even though she was right next door. Things were still tense between them, and he had decided to give her space to cool down. It sucked because he’d wanted her to try the special Christmas cocktails he’d whipped up. She would have loved the hot toddy with charred oranges, although his favorite was the pumpkin spice white Russian. Maybe he’d make them for her some other time.
It was fine. Flora said she’d drop by soon, so at least he wouldn’t spend his Christmas Eve completely isolated. Jaiman went inside his office and picked up the envelopes containing the holiday bonuses he was surprising his employees with—which was less about Christmas and more about the fact that he had paid them their salaries late last month and was trying to make sure they didn’t quit in protest.
If the pub continued to stay busy, there would be just enough money to pay Mr. Jha next month’s rent and, eventually, the deposit for the renewal agreement in February. Thank goodness. Jaiman breathed in deeply, then called Kamal, the head bartender, into his office. “What’s up, boss?” Kamal asked, scratching his chin idly.
Jaiman handed him the envelopes that each had an employee’s name on them. “Holiday bonuses. Can you hand them to everyone?”
Kamal grinned. “Of course, boss.”
“Just a little thanks for being the best employees ever,” Jaiman said, then bit his tongue. Overcompensating much? But Kamal didn’t seem to care. He took the stack of envelopes and headed back outside.
Jaiman would have handed them out himself, but he was too embarrassed to face some of his employees who had asked him for an advance on their salaries on account of the holiday season. He’d had to say no, obviously.
His phone buzzed with a message from Flora. Heyyyyyy I’m here! Where are youuuuu????
Why was she dragging out the letters? She only did that when she was drunk. Jaiman frowned and texted back, In my office. Be right out.
He went back outside to the pub, noting that a few more people had wandered in, and the place looked as full as it used to be in the early days of J’s Pub. Flora sat on one of the stools, wearing a blue maxi dress and sky-high stiletto heels. Her hair was down in messy curls along her shoulders. She waved at him, her body unsteady as she swayed in place. “Hiiii,” she said.
“Are you drunk already?” Jaiman looked at the dirty martini in front of her. “Have you had more than two sips?”
“I, uh,” she paused, wagging a finger in the air, “I drank at another bar before coming here. Had an…interview.”
“Wow, another one.” Jaiman nodded, impressed, then asked, “So what was the interview for?”
“It was with Vogue,” Flora said the words slowly and carefully. “They’re curating a list of the best pubs and restaurants in Mumbai and wanted to get my expert opinion.”
“And what did you tell them?”
She smiled at him, her eyes closing for a few seconds before they opened again. “That they picked out great options and they had my stamp of approval.”
“Wow,” he laughed, “that must have been one short interview.”
“Yeah.” Flora ate the olive from the martini and swallowed. “I did get a few drinks in, though. They paid for it, sooooo…”
“Glad to hear that.” Jaiman gave her a tight-lipped smile. “So, hey, I haven’t seen you in a while. How is everything?”
She took a long sip, avoiding his gaze. “Pretty well. I think I’m finally ready for a relationship.”
“That’s great.” Jaiman squeezed her hand. “Do you need my help with anything? Your Bumble and Hinge profiles, or—”
She squirmed in place. “I don’t think I’ll be going the dating app route, actually.”
Jaiman laughed. “I suppose you know enough interesting people to meet someone organically, huh?”
“About that—”
A few customers came up to Flora, gushing over her blue dress and how much they loved her restaurant, saying they recognized her from the news, and asked her if she had anything special planned for New Year’s Eve. “We’ll actually close the kitchen to the general public,” she told them, her eyes bright, “because a Bollywood producer is hosting his private party there that night.”
“That’s so exciting,” one woman said. “Can we get a photograph with you, please?”
Jaiman stepped aside and took the photo on the woman’s iPhone, trying to mask his jealousy behind a wide, fake grin. “Smile!” he said as the flash went off. You should be happy for her, he told himself with much guilt. She’s your friend. Still, he couldn’t help but wish he were in her place, a celebrity chef with places to go and recognition coming every step of the way. What he wouldn’t give to have no fear that the restaurant next door would destroy him, his career, and his future. But Flora had succeeded on her own terms and through her own efforts. Jaiman had no right to be jealous or upset at her.
He held back a sigh and handed the iPhone back to the woman. “Thanks,” the woman said, then turned to Flora. “We were actually going to ask you for a photo next door, but we lost sight of you in the crowd. Anyway, Merry Christmas!”
“Next door?” Jaiman repeated, his brows furrowed.
Flora’s eyes widened, but she smiled at the women politely until they disappeared from sight. Then she turned to Jaiman, lifting up a finger. “I can explain—”
Jaiman blinked. “Next door, like VV? What were you doing there?”
She fiddled with the straps of her dress. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I promise I was going to. Soon.”
“Tell me what, Flora?” he asked, although a voice in his head told him he didn’t want to find out. Not tonight, when he was already lonely and sad.
She gulped. “I’ve, um, been dating Harish for a few weeks now.”
“You’re what?” His stomach twisted. A couple walked in and took the two remaining seats at the bar. Jaiman exhaled and went behind the bar counter, gesturing for Flora to wait.
She nodded, a tear glistening in her left eye.
As Jaiman took the couple’s orders and prepared their drinks, Flora’s words echoed in his head, and things started to fall into place. He’d always thought Flora hated Harish, who had dumped so many of her friends during culinary school. Flora had let them cry on her shoulder and told Jaiman multiple times that Harish was a playboy and an asshole and deserved to die alone.
But then Jaiman thought back to every single instance in the past few weeks when he’d talked to Flora about Harish. And this time, instead of interpreting her actions and thoughts as anger, Jaiman saw them for what they really were: unresolved feelings.
She’d been watching Harish’s Instagram stories. She took a hot guy to the VV launch party as her date to…make Harish jealous, perhaps? Harish had been waiting for someone in the pouring rain. Had it been Flora? And all that talk about being alone and wanting her future partner to walk into her life, instead of her having to do the searching?
Well, she got what she wanted. But why did it have to be Harish who would ease her loneliness? The man who’d stolen everything that mattered to Jaiman? The grades, the prizes, the customers, and now his best friend?
He served the drinks and returned to the other side of the bar. “Let’s go into my office,” he mumbled to Flora.
Trembling, she followed him inside.
“Can you explain?” he asked, arms folded, once the door was shut behind them.
She blinked back tears, biting a well-manicured fingernail. “Jaiman, I’m so sorry. I know you hate him, but that’s not the only reason I didn’t tell you. His dad raised most of the capital for VV, and if word got out Harish was dating me, he could lose his dad’s funding. His family wouldn’t see me as suitable for him, since I’m not Hindu. They’re very traditional.”
“But I wouldn’t have told anyone,” Jaiman said weakly. He pulled her nail away from her mouth and squeezed her hand. “You know that, right?”
“I do, but you hate him so much that I thought you wouldn’t understand.”
Jaiman raked his fingers through his hair. He wanted to admit to Flora how hurt he was, but he had no right to do that, not if she really did have feelings for Harish fucking Chandran. “I do hate him. But if you like him, that’s all that should matter.”
Flora was silent for a second. Then she said, lowering her gaze to the floor, “I love him. And I think he loves me too.”
“Okay,” Jaiman said, though his head spun with this news. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I still don’t understand how or why you picked…him, but you’re my best friend, and I obviously want you to be happy.”
“You’re my best friend too,” she whispered, a smile in her voice. “Thanks.”
“Of course. I—I gotta get back to the bar.” He swallowed and hooked a thumb behind him. “If you want to spend your Christmas Eve with Harish, go right ahead.”
She stared up at him, her mouth falling open. “Are you sure?”
He had hoped she would reassure him that no, she would stay at J’s Pub and keep him company on this festive occasion. But it was clear, from the look in her eyes, who she wanted to be with tonight. So he nodded and watched her leave, clenching his jaw, then turned back around to face the people waiting at the bar.
Merry Christmas, Jaiman.