Chapter Seven
Seven
Bhanu
We hitched a ride on a golf cart while Sunny explained the dynamics of his friends’ group. “Bored” wasn’t exactly the word to describe this short soliloquy, never with that voice of his. To my chagrin, his voice was unfathomably pleasant to listen to, particularly when he wasn’t demanding anything of my team or insinuating that my own work was behind deadline.
The gist was thus:
“You met Sam, the groom. He’s marrying his college sweetheart, April. They’ve had many ups and downs between work, both engineers at Boeing. Her wanting to get her master’s degree when he wanted to have kids led to a separation for a bit. Then there was drama when he considered leaving the company and she was briefly seeing someone else.
“His parents are a bit hard to please and her parents butted heads with his; therefore, they’re flying in the day before the wedding for a rehearsal dinner that’s more of a family calm-down dinner. The entire reason they’re having a destination wedding is to keep the parents out of it, and to keep it small. Her parents wanted to invite everyone they’d ever met, and his parents wanted April to cut back on some things.”
“Are they Indian?” I joked.
Sunny, to my shocked disbelief, actually hinted at a smirk. Gasp! Did his mouth know such things? It made his side profile attractive, if I were to forget what an ass he could be.
He replied, “You’d think. You met Aamar, the best man, also an engineer at Boeing. He brought his fiancée, Maya, who happens to be good friends with April and is her maid of honor. They’re a relaxed couple, but Aamar’s overseeing a lot of things for Sam, despite them having a wedding planner. Sam is a perfectionist, which drives April up the wall. And you met Sejal,” he grumbled.
Ouch. Talk about a sore spot.
“She’s a bridesmaid, for some damn reason, and here with her boyfriend.”
Then he went quiet, but I wanted to know more. Strangely, I wanted to know about his life, these people I’d inadvertently agreed to sharing my vacation with, and this menacing former lover who appeared to be the archetypal ex.
“Is that all?” I pressed.
“Yep.”
“Nothing else I should know about these people? Their dislikes? Points of discussions to avoid?”
“Nope. I’m sure they’ll try to pry into you or us, but I’ll be quick to cut them off.”
“Speaking of us, what’s our story?”
“Story?”
I sighed dramatically. “Yes. Basic facts. How did we meet? How long have we been together? Should we know each other’s allergies, birthdays, tidbits about parents and siblings?”
“No.”
I scowled.
“You don’t need to know more about my life.” And there was that clenched jaw again. The asshole was back.
“If this falls apart, then that’s on you. I can only master the information that I have. Otherwise, I’ll start making things up when they ask. And they will ask.”
A few minutes later, he conceded. “We met at your work party a year ago, started dating two months ago. That’s enough time, right? To bring you for a wedding but not long enough that they’d question why I didn’t tell them? Besides, your sister lives here, so you were coming anyway. A last-minute coincidence.”
“Sounds believable.”
He continued to stew on other broad aspects of our fake relationship when we pulled up to the villa, the point being not to get too chatty. “It won’t be an issue since you’d rather be doing your own thing with your own family.”
If by “my own thing,” he meant sneaking into work, then yes. Since I saw Diya on a regular basis, and this was a long trip for me, she couldn’t take every day off. And I wouldn’t want her to, not when I was content to lounge around. She was back to work, giving me time to relax without filling the void with conversation and plans.
Essentially, “plans” included me sitting on the lanai with an ocean view, sipping drinks, nibbling on cheese, and scouring my laptop. Diya would end me. Just like Gabrielle. Even if I didn’t love my job, it was difficult to unplug. It was why I couldn’t just watch TV and not be on my phone and tablet. And why it was hard to just read a book and get lost in the story. My brain had to juggle multiple things at once.
“I’m going to be a breath of fresh air,” I told him.
“What?” He stared at me as if I’d spewed frothy lies at him.
“Your friends will only get off your back if you’re deliriously happy. Especially with your ex there.”
“ You’re going to pull off deliriously happy?”
I batted my eyelashes. “I make all my men deliriously happy.”
He opened his mouth—knowing him, probably to inquire what had happened to all those men if I’d made them so content—but he, smartly, didn’t say anything.
This might be fun after all. I’d always wanted to be an actor. Okay, well, maybe in high school during my Bollywood phase. I could ham it up. I could be the perfect girlfriend, if for nothing else than to occupy my time so I wasn’t bored to death around his friends. Something to keep my mind off work and checking my messages every half second for interview updates. This was a vacation that had turned into a fake dating heist. I might as well be the center of my own best fantasy.
“I can tell this has already blown up in your head.”
I snickered. “Your ex will be begging for you to go back to her.”
“Not what I want.”
“Then revenge relationship.”
“I’m not vengeful.”
“I’m sure whatever you want doesn’t involve her pushing her relationship in your face all week and your friends pitying you.”
He, again, opened his mouth, but snapped it shut. Instead, Sunny pulled his suitcase behind him as we strolled toward the sidewalk. He could act like he didn’t care about any of this, but he wasn’t a robot. He had feelings, and if I were in his shoes, I’d be annoyed, upset, hurt, agitated, anything except wholly joyous during my friends’ wedding/vacation. Yet I found myself wondering if Sunny had feelings for Sejal, if they could work out in the end, and most importantly, what had happened.
Ugh. No. I wasn’t here for the drama. But the tea? Yes. I wanted him to spill the tea.
“What happened between you two?” I asked as we walked to the front door and I unlocked it.
Sunny pulled in his rolling suitcase. “That’s personal, and we’re not that close.”
I shrugged. “A current girlfriend would know what happened with the ex she’s about to spend time with.”
“No,” he replied sternly, his voice gravelly.
I watched him take in the villa, adding, “A real girlfriend would be pretty upset with the situation if she didn’t know.”
He locked eyes with mine. “That’s why you’re pretend, and you can pretend to know and/or not care.”
“We’ll see.”
“We should establish base rules.”
“Okay.”
“One, no prying into each other’s personal lives.”
I nodded.
“This is a ploy meant to last a few days. That’s all.”
“Of course. We’ll return to bickering coworkers the moment we set foot on a plane.”
“What happens on island stays on island.”
I sneered. “As if anything should happen.”
He dragged his gaze to me, and for the briefest of moments, those chestnut eyes challenged my dismissal. Until he clarified, “No one at work should know we even ran into one another here. Gossip can kill a career.”
“Acceptable.”
He watched me for a minute. “Do you have any rules?”
“Don’t fall in love with me.”
He shook his head, exasperated.
I grinned. “Try not to fight. If that’s at all possible. I don’t want drama on my vacation. Save it for the work pool.”
“Agreed.”
And that was that. There was no need to mention flirting or sex, et cetera, because that was, simply and hilariously, pushing the details a bit too far.
“This place is very opulent. Didn’t realize something as easy as research paid so well. You must be doing nice for yourself,” he commented.
And here we went. “Jealousy does not make for a good fake boyfriend slash last-minute houseguest.”
He held his hands up. “It’s just, your job does seem fairly easy in comparison to coding.”
“We each picked our career paths. But I’ll take that as a compliment; a testament, if you will, of how I make research look so easy. I do run a smooth ship.” I blew against my nails. He didn’t need to know that Diya had staggering discounts for this place.
“I meant to say…you run user tests all day. Show people designs and prototypes and observe them, ask questions, adjust as needed, and do it all over again until approval rating is high enough. It’s not like coding, where you have to create working prototypes from nothing.”
“Down to the last detail,” we said in unison, Sunny scowling and myself mockingly rocking my head back and forth because I’d heard his mightier-than-thou spiel a dozen times.
“You ever consider that other people work just as hard as you do?” I asked, a hand on my hip.
“I know they might. You probably don’t stay up all night fixing bugs and ignoring loved ones.”
Did he mean exes? Was that why they broke up? He spent so much time glued to his many screens that he lost track of relationships? He vaguely reminded me of those couples who ate while watching TV, fell asleep to the TV, always had the TV on and never talked. They didn’t discuss their days or problems or celebrations. They didn’t cook together or clean together. Just closed mouths and a blaring TV. Days passing into oblivion without ever having done much to improve, much less enjoy, their lives together. It was sad. Was dating a workaholic like Sunny the same?
Aside from his good looks and Denzel voice, one might wonder why anyone dated him in the first place. Could he be that different with his relationships? Actually nice and generous and charming? I couldn’t imagine he’d make a girl’s toes curl, but who knew? Also, could a girl’s toes curl? What did that even mean? Sounded painful.
“Maybe if you smiled more?” I suggested.
He turned to me, and I expected a big, fake smile. He did not smile. Sunny rarely smiled at me. I’d seen him smile before, elusive and legendary, but at me, for me? Nope. Not since we met a year ago had Sunny smiled at me. Like turning his frown upside down might sever his soul. But others really liked him. Coworkers respected him. Sunny was a mystery.
“Or not…hey, don’t forget who’s letting you crash here and saving you from awkward nights with your friends. Should be a little nicer. If you even know what that word means?”
“ Nice? ” he echoed, casting his eyes toward the ceiling. “Because you were so nice when we first met?”
“What are you talking about? How was I not nice inviting the new guy, whom I’d never even met, to my place for a party where I fed you and gave you at least six types of drinks?”
He shifted his weight onto his right foot. “That was all great, probably for show for the rest of our coworkers, but once we were alone, you weren’t particularly welcoming.”
I combed through my memories. That night was a blur, as was any event in which I was expected to be social for hours with a large crowd of people. All I remembered was biding my time before everyone had left and needing to sit in silence in my bedroom to recharge and escape from the energy-sucking climate of parties before a panic attack hit. I’d felt it coming when I was in mid-conversation. After that? I didn’t remember much, probably because I was great at blocking out anxiety. Otherwise, I’d hem and haw for months over what could’ve been done to either preemptively avoid panic attacks or quickly defuse them.
“I don’t remember what detail you’re hanging on to, to think I was unwelcoming.” I extended my arms in a grand gesture. “But take this into consideration?”
Sunny relaxed, his shoulders less tense and his face less…Sunny. “You’re right. I do appreciate this. It’s saving my ass and my entire vacation.”
“Feel free to look around. You probably won’t be spending much time here, but there’s a fully stocked kitchen and a private yard overlooking the ocean.”
He walked to the wide sliding glass doors that made up the back wall. The manicured lawn wasn’t huge, but it was secluded. Past the rock wall, sunlight glimmered on the bright, blue water.
Pushing his fingers through his hair, he muttered, “Wow. It’s going to be hard to leave this place once they find a room for me.”
“You’re welcome to visit.”
“I’ve never been great at vacationing. I’m so tied to work, helping family, getting things done for the next phase, that it’s strange to not do anything.”
“If you’re not going to do anything, then you might as well not do anything with that view.”
“Yeah. I don’t even think I’d ever come here if it hadn’t been for Sam getting married. Maybe I’d come to Hawaii, maybe this island, but a cheaper place. A rental.”
I knew what he meant. My family was on my butt to detach from work, and I would’ve never come here to this specific hotel, much less this often, if it hadn’t been for Diya and her comically large discounts.
Sunny checked his watch. “I need to shower and get ready to meet the guys.”
“Tonight wasn’t on the agenda.” A spiral of anxiety fluttered at the base of my skull. I hadn’t expected there to be so many exursions because, well, I hadn’t thoroughly thought this through. I could mentally prepare for later events, but tonight? Already? It was too short notice.
“No. It’s just for the guys.”
I sighed with great relief, noting how Sunny paused to give me a quiet look. He probably assumed I was simply overcome with relief for not having to be around him, which I wasn’t going to correct. Let him stew for a second.
Instead, he asked, “Where should I put my suitcase?”
“Oh…” I looked to the right at my room with its lavish king-size bed big enough for three people and attached private bath, then looked to the left at the room Diya had staked claim on because “elder sis needed some luxury in her life.”
She probably wouldn’t want to walk in on Sunny undressing in her room. Kimo probably wouldn’t want that, either.
Crap. I really hadn’t thought this through. I indicated the room to the right.
“Thanks,” Sunny said, pulling his suitcase into my room and promptly walking back out. “This is the room I should…”
Hmm. Had I left my underwear on an unmade bed? “Yeah. Um. My sister is taking the other room.”
“To be clear: This is your room?”
“Yes. I’m sure she’ll switch rooms with me. The other has two beds.”
“Ah. That’s okay. I’ll take a quick shower and crash on the couch tonight.”
“Sounds good. But word of warning, she wakes up at five thirty and is very loud.”
“Why does she wake up that early?”
“She claims it’s the equatorial sunrise. Always begins to rise around that time, so she naturally rises with the light. She hardly ever wakes up to an alarm clock.”
He cocked a brow.
“I know, right! She’s so weird. Anyway, she wakes up early, goes for a jog, comes back, and makes breakfast and lunch. Loudly. She lives alone—well, sometimes her boyfriend stays over, but he sleeps like a log—and anyway, she isn’t used to keeping it down for others. You can try the couch if you’re not a light sleeper.”
“It’s fine.” He backtracked into the room, only to return. “Um, thanks. For this.”
I nodded. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Ignore my coworker’s situation when we had so much space here? Had this been a typical hotel room, then no. I couldn’t have helped much aside from storing his luggage and letting him use the bathroom. Unless we had double beds and Diya didn’t mind bunking with me like old times.
When he disappeared to do what he needed to do, I called Diya.
“Hey! Sorry I’ve been MIA. It’s chaos today,” she said on the third ring.
“Oh, no. That sucks. Everything okay?”
“We’ll get through it. It’s like someone said, hey, your normal busy season pandemonium isn’t enough this time, so here’s more problems caused by the main booking site and now you can deal with it instead of the people who caused the issue! Yay!”
I groaned. “Sounds very stressful. Anything I can do?”
“No. I just wish that I could spend more time with you today. Hey, are you sure you don’t want to take my car and go places?”
“You know me. I really like the peaceful alone time. I love walking the shoreline from here. I saw three honu already and dolphins! Had to tell someone to stay away from the honu.”
“What is wrong with people? We have signs everywhere. Thanks for saying something.”
“Of course. Hey, so while you’re on the phone. Is it okay if someone crashes here? Just for a night or two? Promise he won’t get in the way—”
“He who ?”
“Oh. Yes. A coworker. His reservation got messed up and guess the hotels are booked.”
“You better tell me more.”
“Um. That’s all.”
“That can’t be all. Who is this man?”
“Mmm-mmm.” I clucked my tongue. “Don’t get all excited for nothing. You’ll only disappoint yourself.”
“I will absolutely find out every detail about this man in person. Glad he’s there. You shouldn’t be alone.”
I laughed. “It’s okay. I’m not scared of the dark.”
Diya tsked. “You know what I mean! You’re here visiting me, and I feel like I should be spending every minute with you.”
“Don’t do that. You can’t spend every minute with me when I’m here for over a week. And you have work. Besides, I’m not here for you, you know? I just came for this sweet villa and drinks and ube. Okay, so I just came for the ube.”
Diya chortled on the other end. “Bet you finished all the ube malasadas Kimo’s mom made for you at the get-together?”
“Yes. You know I did.”
“I have to go and take care of yet another emergency. We have four key cards, so give your friend one if you want.”
“Oh, boy…”
“That leaves an extra. Kimo doesn’t have one. He wouldn’t be going there without me anyway.”
“Thanks! Hope work gets better…”
She groaned dramatically. I could practically see her throwing her head back in exasperation. I didn’t know how she worked in the hospitality industry.
“Oh, by the way, I left you a book. In case you get bored or want to read, but seeing that you have a man friend, this probably won’t apply. That one I was telling you about? It’s pretty good. Saw it go viral, and typically, I wouldn’t get into social media–hyped books, but all these readers were fawning over this book, particularly the love interest. And, girl, I read it in two sittings on my days off when Kimo was trying to get attention, and by the end, despite how amazing Kimo is, I was just, like, why aren’t you a Jay Shah? Ugh. I had to slap myself back into reality.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It’s on my bed.”
So it was. A little yellow book.