Chapter 8
After downing a couple giant glasses of wine and tequila shots in under half an hour, Manisha’s thoughts were a bit hazy as she made her way to Chai Time.
She mentally shunted aside her call with Oliver, determined instead to focus on the present issue: her fertility journey and the limited, costly options she had.
Turning to her mom for financial help was out of the question; the mere idea of her mother knowing how much she’d splurged on bags and bling made her stomach churn.
It would shatter her pride, especially since she’d just turned down a cheque from her.
The thought of her mother’s disapproval loomed large indeed.
She could ask Uncle Parm to put her photo on the wall beside Katrina Kaif’s. She shook her head. No, that’d just be a reminder of her predicament, like a mugshot of a reckless spender and an indulgent brat.
Manisha sighed. The option to freeze her eggs was available, but time was running out, and Manisha couldn’t afford the high fees at Dr. Rocky’s state-of-the-art clinic.
Even if other clinics charged half the amount, she still wouldn’t have the money.
She had hoped that today’s appointment would mainly be discussion, giving her more time to save up for a baby fund if it came to that.
Little had she realized that she needed to act quickly and begin the process immediately, or else lose out on the chance altogether.
But living a life without children…the idea filled her with a crushing sense of dread and self-loathing for her past splurges. More than ever, Manisha had no idea how to move forward. Personally, professionally—her life was one big mess.
She finally reached Chai Time, and with a weary sigh, Manisha eased the door open and shuffled up to the counter. Her eyes scanned the menu board, but the words wavered fuzzily before her as she fought to stand upright.
“Hey! Welcome to Chai Time. What can I get you?” the young man behind the counter said, flashing a cheerful smile.
“Eggs,” Manisha replied, her mind still preoccupied with thoughts of freezing her eggs.
“How would you like your eggs?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Frozen,” she said vaguely, still lost in her thoughts.
“You’d like frozen eggs?” he echoed, clearly puzzled.
Manisha shook her head, embarrassment washing over her.
“I’m sorry, I meant to say I don’t have eggs—I mean, I do have eggs, they’re just limited.
So can I get your eggs instead—” She felt flustered, the wine she’d consumed making her tongue heavy.
She tried to concentrate on what the employee was saying, but the words seemed to float over her head.
“Manisha? Are you feeling alright?”
Suddenly, Rohit was standing next to the employee, a concerned look on his face. “Adam, why don’t I take over here? A couple of tables in the back need to be cleared.”
“Absolutely, boss.” Adam’s relief was obvious as he quickly made his escape.
Rohit leaned over the counter, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Manisha, are you drunk?”
Manisha shot him an icy glare. Seriously, you’re such a Rude Rohit, she thought, emphasizing both “rude” and “Rohit” in her mind.
“How about you sit down?” he suggested. “I’ll grab you a coffee and some water.”
She shook her head vehemently. “I’m fine! Let’s just go over those papers.”
“Now? Not like this,” Rohit replied, his tone laced with disapproval, which only fuelled her annoyance.
“Just because I might have accidentally had a few too many drinks doesn’t mean I, former lawyer Miss Manisha Patel, can’t look over some legal—” She hiccupped. “Some legal documents for a coffee shop…”
“Honestly, today’s not a good day for that anymore,” Rohit countered.
“Why not? Your dad told mine this was really important.”
“You’re right; my dad asked your dad for a favour,” Rohit said patiently. “But this can wait a day or two…and I think you should head home.”
Manisha burst into laughter. “Rohit Khanna is kicking me out of his café!”
A few patrons turned to look.
“Uh, no! That’s not what I’m doing at all,” he said, glancing around nervously.
“Good, because I want to stay,” Manisha declared stubbornly, plopping down in a chair. “Let’s go through the papers!”
Rohit handed her a glass of water. “Look, you’ve had way too much to drink. There’s no way you can focus on anything right now.”
“Well, I’m looking at you wearing that. That’s focusing, isn’t it?” Manisha remarked, eyeing him up and down. She assessed his stylish purple suit paired with a light blue shirt. Why was he dressed like that?
Rohit glanced down at his outfit in surprise. “It’s just a suit.”
Manisha chuckled. “Just a suit, like it’s just a Lamborghini.” She mimicked his tone, completing the sentence with flair.
“Go home, Manisha.”
“You’re so…”
“Rude?” he interjected.
Manisha smirked. “Exactly.”
Now, it was Rohit’s turn to laugh. “Look who’s talking! The kettle is calling the pot black!”
“It’s the pot calling the kettle black,” she corrected. “And I’ll have you know my kettle is blue. It’s a Smug. That I paid for using my own hard-earned money.”
“Smeg…”
“That’s what I just said,” Manisha growled.
“You said ‘Smug,’ ” he pointed out, frustration creeping into his tone.
She opened her mouth to counter with a mature “Did not!” but he cut in.
“You know what? Never mind. There’s no point in arguing with you. I have a lot to do.” He glanced at his watch.
“Are you implying I don’t?” she shot back.
“What? No! I don’t know what your schedule looks like,” Rohit replied. “But since you seem to be on vacation—”
“Self-imposed sabbatical.”
“Whatever you call it,” Rohit said, lifting his hands in surrender. “Let’s just do this another time.”
“I’ll see if I can pencil you into my jam-packed sched—” Manisha began, reaching for the waterglass.
Suddenly, Deena burst through the café doors, spotting Manisha right away. “Are you okay?”
“Deena!” Manisha exclaimed, then turned to Rohit. “Look, it’s Deena!”
Deena looked at Rohit, perplexed. He chuckled. “You’re welcome for taking care of your drunk friend.”
“Cousin,” Manisha corrected him. “We’re cousins, Rude Vain Rohit.” She sniggered then took a sip of water. From over the rim of her glass, she watched Deena’s jaw slowly drop open.
“She’s been like this since she arrived five minutes ago,” Rohit informed Deena.
Deena kept staring at her, aghast. “Manisha, you’re drunk! It’s the middle of the day. Impressive.”
Manisha lowered the glass and gave her cousin the stink eye. “I’m not drunk, Deena,” she insisted.
And then she hiccupped again. “Okay, fine. Maybe I had a few too many sips of Chardonnay.” In hindsight, she probably shouldn’t have mixed wine with tequila. But who was she to turn down Missy’s offer?
“I’ll get her out of your hair,” Deena said apologetically to Rohit.
“But we still need to go over those papers!” Manisha protested. She flung her arm toward the back of the café, nearly knocking over her water and untouched coffee in the process.
“Whoa!” Deena yelped, as both Rohit and she dove to steady the table. She shook her head firmly. “Not today, Manisha. How about we get going?”
“Fine.” Manisha brought her hand—pinky and thumb extended—up to her face. “My people are gonna call his people.”
“Right. Thanks, Rohit,” Deena said, helping Manisha out of her chair and steering her toward the door.
Manisha scowled. “Why are you thanking him? In fact, someone should be thanking—”
Before Manisha could finish, a tall blonde woman swooped into the café and narrowly avoided colliding with them.
“Oh gosh, sorry about that,” the woman said, slipping off her sunglasses. “Ro!” she exclaimed, looking past them. A giant smile spread across her face.
Rohit stepped out from behind them and checked his watch. “Hi, you’re early!”
Manisha caught Deena’s eye, who mouthed “Ro” back at her with a quizzical brow lift.
“Oh, I hope that’s alright?” The woman looked to Deena and Manisha, then to Rohit, then back to them. She extended her hand with a nervous smile. “Um, hi, I’m—”
“Of course,” Rohit interjected smoothly. “Where are my manners?”
“Did you ever have any?” Manisha muttered just loud enough for Deena to catch, who shot her a warning look, silently urging her to be quiet.
“Suzy is…well, she’s, um, a business partner,” Rohit announced. “Suzy, meet Manisha and Deena, a couple of my fellow Baskinites.”
Deena and Manisha exchanged incredulous glances. This was Suzy—the woman Rohit had supposedly strayed with, the very reason for the much-talked-about cancellation of the Indian wedding of the year.
“Nice to meet you, Suzy,” Deena managed to say, her voice shaky.
“Homewrecker,” Manisha whispered into Deena’s ear, slightly slurred yet unmistakable.
“Hi, Suzy, I’m a little boozy.” Manisha raised a hand in the air like she was giving a toast and nearly lost her balance, swaying dangerously.
Suzy looked baffled. “Did I miss a happy hour or something?”
“Not for everyone,” Rohit quickly replied, his tone a touch defensive.
“Sorry, my cousin was celebrating her, um, her brother’s post-wedding excitement,” Deena jumped in, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “She might have had one too many!” She laughed nervously.
“I’m totally fine,” Manisha hissed, rolling her eyes. Rohit and now Deena were really testing her patience.
“We’ve all been there,” Suzy said, flashing a sympathetic smile.
“I bet most girls in Baskin could say that about Rohit, too,” Manisha quipped with a big grin.
“Manisha!” Deena snapped at her.
Rohit raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“I’m just saying…” Manisha shrugged. “We’ve all hea—”
“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Rohit said coldly. “Suzy and I have plans, and to be honest, I’ve had my fill of the Manisha happy hour.”
“Sorry, Rohit. You know jet lag can hit hard. One drink feels like five!” Deena said with a sheepish grin.
“Jet lag? I’ve been in Baskin for we—ee—” Manisha started to say, but Deena slapped a hand over her mouth, holding it firmly in place.
“Regardless, you two should enjoy yourselves. I’ve got Manisha,” Deena said. She shot Manisha a cross look before carefully removing her hand, then pulled them to the side to clear the way for Rohit.
“It was great meeting you both,” Suzy said. “Let’s head out, Ro.” The pair linked arms and took their leave.
“See you, Ro!” Manisha called out as the door clicked shut behind them.
Deena made a weird noise, somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. “Manisha, you’re plastered,” she said, shaking her head.
“Just a tad,” Manisha replied, leaning her weight on Deena, who stumbled to keep them upright.
“We really need to get out of here,” Deena insisted.
“Are we going to another bar? I’m starving!”
“Yeah, it’s called Deena’s Bar,” Deena replied, a lopsided grin on her face as they walked out.