Epilogue Three Months Later
THREE MONTHS LATER
Jaiman hauled the final box up the stairs, then walked in through the open door and set it on the floor. He tugged on his sweaty collar, hoping the electrician would show up in the next hour, as promised. This place needed air-conditioning, and fast.
“Jaiman?” Jia stepped into view, holding two water-filled paper cups. “Here.”
He chugged the water in both cups gratefully, then threw them in the trash and pulled Jia into his arms. He spun her around until she giggled and yelled, “Put me down! I’m dizzy!”
“Are you excited?” he asked, taking her face in his hands and kissing her before she could reply.
Jia let out a soft moan and pushed him into the wall. “Are you up for some cardio?” she said, running her fingers along his biceps.
“Always,” he said, pecking her on the lips, “but I’m still pretty worn out from last night.” He flushed at the thought of yesterday, when Jia—overcome with the giddiness of finally getting this place up and running—had jumped him three times; it was surprising they’d still managed to get a few hours of sleep.
“Besides,” he added, “the others will be here soon.”
“Fine,” Jia said, pouting. She pulled his arms around her back, and together, they stared out through the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the main road. The view of city traffic, potholes, and auto rickshaw drivers hurling insults at one another wasn’t particularly a sight for sore eyes, and yet, this place was completely, one hundred percent Jia Deshpande.
The framed photographs of her friends and family (and the dogs she and Jaiman had adopted last month) on the baby pink walls, the dark brown wood flooring that was warm underneath their feet, the bright fuchsia office chair with a fuzzy white blanket across from the teal desk—the colors might have been jarring to some, but they were perfect to Jia. And that was all that mattered.
“I can’t believe this is my life,” Jia said, squeezing his hands and pulling him closer. “I have my dream sea-facing apartment at Bandstand, my two dogs, my perfect office space…and you.” She tilted her head up to kiss him, long and deep, breaking away only to sigh contentedly. “I need nothing more. Well”—she thought for a moment—“maybe a new pair of shoes.”
Jaiman chuckled; he kissed the side of her neck, eliciting a moan from her, and smiled.
“Knock, knock, lovebirds.” They turned around to spot Damini at the door, beaming. She held her laptop case in one hand and pushed her glasses up her nose with the other. “Dare I interrupt?”
“Of course.” Jia walked forward and hugged her tightly, squealing when Damini hugged her in return with the same intensity. “The Wi-Fi’s been set up. The log-in details are at your desk.”
Damini’s eyes took in the office, and her nose wrinkled at the clash of colors that made up Jia’s desk in the center. There was another desk off to the side with zodiac stickers already pasted on the white wood. Then she spotted the plain white desk and chair in the other corner of the room with a piece of paper on it, and she brightened. “That’s my spot, right?”
“Yes,” Jaiman said, chuckling. His phone buzzed. One new text. “Manoj just dropped Charu off. She’s coming up.”
Within seconds, Charu was at the door, wearing a pink salwar kameez today, perhaps in honor of their first day at work. She clutched a large pink folder to her chest, and a tote bag with the word “Breathe” all over it was slung over one shoulder. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not.” Jia embraced her too, then grinned. “I can’t believe this day is finally here!”
Charu squeezed her back, then pulled away to hand her the pink folder. “I already did the horoscopes for the twenty leads we got from the blog. I think we can start calling them into the office or set up Zoom calls with them later this week.”
Jaiman ran a hand along his jaw, impressed at her professionalism. Hiring her had been the right idea.
Jia picked up a bottle of champagne that rested on her desk beside a can of Coke and asked, “A drink, anyone?” just as Jaiman’s phone buzzed again.
He excused himself to take the call, going to the small, undecorated meeting room inside the office. “Hey, Harish. Any update from your publicist on the event?”
“Yep,” Harish said. “Shah Rukh Khan said he’d try to drop by with his wife. His daughter loved the vodka cherry cola cocktail you whipped up for her when she visited J’s, and she raved about it to him for hours. Impressive, Patil.”
“We’re friends now. You can call me by my first name.”
Harish barked out a laugh. “I’m looking forward to our first collab, Jaiman.”
“It’ll be great,” Jaiman replied. “Your venue, my cocktails, Flora’s recipes—it’s the perfect combo. That interviewer was right.”
Last month, during Flora’s invite-only birthday party at The Fairytale Café, a food reporter had approached her, Jaiman, and Harish to ask if they’d do a TV interview talking about their different perspectives on running a food joint, and in the end had suggested they collaborate on an event together given their varied expertise. The interview had gone viral after the press discovered Flora had dated both men, and everyone went wild for a week debating #TeamJaiman versus #TeamHarish. This piece of gossip still continued to be a constant on social media, despite Harish and Flora’s engagement announcement a week after the interview.
“I’m proud of you for taking the leap and starting J’s Cocktails, and I know Fairy is too.” There was a smile in Harish’s voice. “I have to go, but see you soon.”
Jaiman hung up, grinning. So much had changed in three months, in the best way possible. He went back to the main office to find the women chatting about working together once again.
“I didn’t think, after you left Mimosa, that we’d all be co-workers again.” Damini laughed as she clinked her glass of champagne with Jia’s bubbly and Charu’s Coke. “I’m glad my internship ended at the right time.”
“And I’m glad you joined me.” Jia’s eyes were wet with tears as she regarded her two friends-turned-employees. “Both of you.”
Damini’s social media skills were a must-have for any new start-up, and, as it turned out, so were Charu’s horoscope skills. After Jaiman and Jia got together, Charu did a Human Design and astrology chart reading for them and pronounced them as compatible as could be—and also gave them a list of suggestions for how to avoid arguments and handle conflict the right way, because every relationship needed work. The reading was so accurate that Jia offered her a job as her match coordinator on the spot.
Charu pulled them into a group hug that they all returned, and then she told Jia, “I still need your father’s birth chart.”
“I don’t know if we should do this behind Devdutt Uncle’s back.” Jaiman hesitated. “If you’d just ask him if he wants to be set—”
Jia tutted. “Let us work our magic and find Papa the right woman first. Then we’ll talk to him. Besides, Papa is alone at home now. He needs company.”
Jaiman didn’t say anything. Experience had taught him that talking Jia out of her matchmaking was futile. And given how enthusiastic Devdutt Uncle had been about their relationship so far—not a single heart attack complaint, no rising blood pressure or cholesterol levels—maybe he would actually be open to falling in love again himself.
Damini sat at her desk and took out her laptop, wiping some sweat from her brow. “We got fifty new followers on Instagram overnight. I think those social media ads I set up are working.”
“Fantastic.” Jaiman wrapped his arms around Jia again and planted a kiss on the back of her head. “I have to go back downstairs to J’s Cocktails. Text me if you need any help.”
“I will.” Jia let out a squeal and tackled him with a hug. “I love you, you adorably annoying man.”
“I love you too, you annoyingly adorable woman.” He hugged her back as Charu and Damini exchanged happy glances.
As he was leaving, he paused at the entrance, so grateful for everything that had happened in the past year that had led to this very beautiful moment. He smiled and touched the pink-and-teal sign gracing the front door.
LOVE BETTER WITH JIA
YOUR MILLENNIAL MATCHMAKER