CHAPTER 7 Neel
Neel
A ten-minute drive leads me to the boutique, which looks even prettier and lit up at night. Through the sheer curtains, I can see someone moving around inside. Faint music drifts out, so I’m guessing they’re still open.
I approach the front porch and decide to knock. After waiting a solid two minutes with no response, I knock again, but there’s still no answer. Cautiously, I try the doorknob and turn it. Surprisingly, it’s unlocked, and the door swings open to the sound of music blasting from inside.
And that’s when I’m met with the weirdest sight: Kavita dancing, her hips swaying to the rhythm as she moves energetically. She’s wearing yoga pants and a sports bra.
She doesn’t seem to have heard the door open, which alarms me. Just before the brass bell hanging above clangs against my head, I grab it, making it ring out loudly.
Kavita abruptly stops dancing, shuts off the music, and turns to face me. For a moment, she looks shell-shocked before collecting herself. “Neel?”
Releasing the bell, I take a few steps inside. “Sorry, I thought you were still open for business.”
“I was...I mean, I am. Technically. I just don’t have any appointments, so I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“You didn’t lock the door,” I blurt out, immediately regretting my words. But concern overrides awkwardness. It’s a quiet neighborhood, but I worry about her safety being alone with the door unlocked.
“Oh!” She smacks her forehead. “Ramu probably left without locking up.”
“Ramu?” A friend? A boyfriend who lives with her?
She grins as she throws on a cover-up. “My security guard. He locks the gates after hours, but he’s often chatting with the other guards or taking a tea break. I assumed he’d stayed behind.”
“I didn’t see anyone outside.”
“I only lock up when I head upstairs for the night.”
I’m confused again. “Upstairs like...?”
“I live right above the boutique, so it’s convenient to stay open late if needed. I just have to walk upstairs.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Sorry, I should’ve offered you something. I got carried away.”
“No worries. I only came because Elena left her bag. It has my mom’s crochet stuff, so I wanted to pick it up.”
She starts looking around the boutique, moving behind mannequins. “A bag? Oh yeah, she called about it, and I put it in the back room.” She retrieves it and hands it over. “Here you go.”
“Thanks. Sorry to bother you.”
“Not a bother at all. It’s good to see you again.” Her eyes sparkle as she smiles.
I turn to leave, pausing at the bell. It’s just above my head, and I almost hit it again.
“This thing needs to be hung higher.” Technically, there’s a rope dangling below it, making it accessible even when raised.
But having it this low poses a risk of injury.
Still, I’m taller than average, so maybe she doesn’t need to worry about it.
“We just installed it last week. I’ve been reminding Ramu to rehang it, but he’s probably been too busy goofing off to do any work around here.”
“Want me to do it for you?” I don’t even know why I volunteer to help.
Maybe I did want to spend a little more time here.
This place has a vibe that calms me and almost brings me a sense of peace that’s rare to come by.
So, a few more minutes should be good. Or, maybe I’m simply kidding myself.
I just want to hear her voice, her laughter, and see that smile again.
Her eyes light up. “Would you?”
There’s a twang in my chest at the way she looks at me. It prompts me to put on a serious face rather than smile back. It’s not that I’m incapable of flirting when a beautiful woman smiles at me, but perhaps I’m just a little too old and jaded. “Of course.”
She fetches a ladder, looking at me hopefully as I climb up. There’s an iron hook on the ceiling, and as I inspect it, I feel two hands steadying my ankles.
“Hope you don’t mind some extra support,” she says.
“Thanks.” I adjust the rope, pulling it higher and anchoring it in place. “Is this better?” I glance down at her.
She nods in approval. As I descend and our eyes connect, I can’t help but notice her biting her lip. She seems to do that a lot.
I stand under the bell, satisfied it’s now way past the top of my head. “I’ll get going then.”
We do an awkward dance as she picks up the ladder to put it back, just as I consider doing it myself. A spark shoots up my arm as our fingers brush.
She rubs her arms as if feeling the goosebumps, too, and smiles. “Thank you for fixing the bell,” she murmurs as I set the ladder aside.
My eye catches on the most luxurious green fabric spread on a table. I can’t seem to take my eyes off its vibrant color.
“You like it?” she asks, following my gaze with a smile.
I don’t know what makes me want to get that fabric. “Do you think this color will go well with the colors we’ve picked for Elena’s wedding dress? I’d like to have a kurta made from it for myself.”
“I think it will complement the color of her dress beautifully. I’d be happy to design a kurta for you,” she says, her eyes twinkling.
I hesitate. “Would you like to take my measurements now? I don’t mean to impose if you’re busy,” I say, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“Not at all,” she says quickly, with a wave of her hand. “Let’s get your measurements right away.”
She avoids meeting my eyes as I step closer. I breathe in the fruity scent of her perfume as she approaches me with the measuring tape. “This is a lovely area,” I say, trying to fill the awkward silence in the room. “I just discovered it a few days ago on my morning run.”
“Ah, so you’re one of those dedicated fitness people,” Kavita murmurs with an amused lilt. “I prefer more unorthodox exercise myself.”
“Like what?” I can’t help but ask.
She moves around to my back and starts at my shoulders. “Laughter yoga classes at the park. The instructors tell the most ridiculous jokes that have you doing deep belly breaths and ab crunches from all the laughing before you know it.”
The feeling of her fingers through my shirt electrifies my body, like being in contact with a live wire. I try to steady my breath. “You’re kidding, right?”
She straightens up, a nostalgic look in her eyes. “My mom had her little tailoring shop right here years ago. My friends and I spent so many afternoons here after school, playing on the swings and running around.”
“It seems like a great community space,” I reply, catching on to her enthusiasm. “Green areas like these are so important in cities.”
“Exactly,” Kavita nods. “We do regular clean-ups. Volunteers come to pick up trash, pull weeds, that kind of thing.”
I like her way of thinking. I want to help make this park better, too.
I remind myself to pitch a company project to fix up the park. It’d be good for the community and might even raise house prices around here.
“That’s great,” I say, watching her lean in with the measuring tape. “In my job, I’ve seen how these spaces matter. They make neighborhoods nicer and do a lot more good stuff, too.”
Kavita steps in front of me, wrapping the tape around my chest. She’s so close, her perfume enveloping me. My heart races.
“I’m happy you understand!” she says, her breath warm on my ear. “This park was special to me as a kid. I want today’s children to have that, too.”
I smile, impressed by her dedication.
As her fingers touch my chest, our eyes meet. Kavita suddenly seems aware of our proximity. Her fingers tremble slightly as she moves to measure my arm.
I inhale sharply when her hands gently encircle my bicep. Her soft touch and sweet scent make it difficult to think clearly.
Clearing my throat, I try to regain composure and continue the conversation. “So, when did you move your boutique here?”
“Almost a year ago,” she replies, her breath tickling my neck as she leans in to note the measurements.
“I transformed it into my bridal boutique when Mom stayed home to care for Dad after his stroke. I renovated the place, and her former tailors now work for me. Everything fell into place perfectly.”
“Sounds like it was meant to be,” I respond, nodding approvingly.
Kavita looks up through her lashes. “I absolutely love being back in my childhood neighborhood.”
“I can see why,” I say softly. “These charming pockets are rare in Bangalore now. That connection to our roots is what drew me to sustainable projects.”
She gives me a warm smile. “Seems we have that in common.”
“Did you always know you wanted to design bridal wear?” I ask.
She shakes her head, smiling playfully. “Not at all. I loved designing as a girl, using Mom’s scraps. But it wasn’t until my cousin’s wedding dress emergency that I found my calling.”
“A dress emergency?” I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. Our eyes meet as she measures my inseam, her body brushing against mine.
“Her blouse tore before the ceremony,” Kavita explains, her voice low. “I not only fixed it and even made some improvements. She broke down in happy tears when she saw it.”
I swallow hard as she kneels in front of me. “That’s when you knew bridal was your thing?”
“Exactly.” Her fingers brush my inner thigh, sending a shiver through me. “Creating dream dresses for a bride’s big day,” she says, eyes bright, “There’s nothing better.”
Kavita stands slowly, her hand lingering. Our eyes lock, tension thick in the air as she rolls up the tape.
“It’s amazing how you found your calling,” I say roughly, captivated by her slender fingers.
My gaze moves to her lashes and flushed cheeks as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was meant to be,” she says.
Despite trying to stay composed, my heart pounds. A soft sound escapes my throat. “Yeah,” I whisper.
In the warm chandelier light, her eyes sparkle. She puts away the tape and stands before me again. “Seeing you on the beach that night felt meant to be, too. I don’t think I fully told you how grateful I was for your rescue. It meant everything. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
I feel my breath catch in my throat. “I’m just glad I was there at the right time,” I manage to say, my voice low and honest. “I wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen to you.”
She pauses, bringing her hand up to lightly brush my shoulder, taking her time as she picks off an invisible piece of lint from my shirt. Her eyes look deeply into mine, and I can’t help but be drawn to her full lips as her tongue quickly wets them.
It’s an incredibly tense moment, and the urge to run my fingers through her silky hair, grab the back of her head, and pull her into a deep kiss is almost too much. But I clench my fists, trying to keep my emotions in check. I don’t want to mess up whatever this is between us.
Time seems to freeze as my heart pounds loudly in my ears. Her eyes are half-closed as she leans just a tiny bit closer. Just then, the front door bursts open, and a flustered man rushes inside.
Kavita blinks rapidly, flushing as she takes a step back. “Ramu! What’s going on?” she asks, the flush still lingering on her cheeks.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the man replies, slightly out of breath. “I promise not to leave the gate unattended again.”
“It’s...it’s okay, Ramu,” she stutters, her gaze lingering on me for a charged moment before shifting back to him. “I have a customer here.”
“Oh!” Ramu glances between us. “Sorry, I’ll be right outside then. I’ll lock up afterward.”
He gives a respectful nod before backing out, leaving Kavita and me alone once more. An awkward silence stretches between us as the intense moment from before still hangs palpably in the air, thick with unspoken tension.
Finally, Kavita breaks the silence with a soft laugh, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Well, thanks for coming in today, Neel. I really can’t wait for you to see the whole collection once your kurta and pants are ready.”
“Yeah, of course...” I mumble as I head for the door. “Looking forward to it.”
Our eyes meet and hold for a loaded moment. There’s a quick look in Kavita’s eyes I can’t quite decipher before she gives me a warm goodbye smile. “Have a good evening.”
“You too.” The words come out forced, and my voice is rough with restraint.
As I open the door, I look back at Kavita. Her eyes are still on me.
The walls I’ve carefully built over the years seem to crack. The feelings and desires I thought were long gone stir back to life as if to tease me.
From the moment I saw her, I told myself that this was just a harmless attraction that would pass. Yet, I felt a pull I couldn’t resist. A magnetic attraction I couldn’t ignore. And it’s still there.
While I try to push away my feelings, a voice in the back of my mind whispers: You like Kavita.
I shake my head as though it will make the crazy thought go away.
Later, when Mom asks me about Elena’s shopping bag, I remember that I forgot all about it and left it behind. And for once, I’m at a loss to explain why.