Chapter 32
R
estless. I was hopelessly restless, though I tried hard to keep my mind on work at the office.
My job interview was scheduled for the following Monday. I was going to fly out on Sunday afternoon.
I should have been excited. To be considered for a job that required talent, skill, and ambition should've been flattering. The lure of Hollywood and the weather and culture of southern California should have been compelling for a young, single woman.
And yet I felt no enthusiasm. Not even for Christmas. My heartache over Prajay had pretty much ruined my Christmas spirit this year.
The California job was a great opportunity, I tried to tell myself. And Brian Murphy sounded like a nice enough guy from the brief phone conversation I'd had with him. Any friend of Ajit's had to be amiable. Plus, Ajit had assured me that I didn't have to accept the job if I didn't think it was right for me, assuming there was a remote chance they might offer it to me. I didn't think it was plausible, considering I had limited experience.
“Why the grim expression?” Pinky asked when she came into my office at the end of the day.
“I look grim?” I pretended nonchalance.
“You've been looking like that all day. You've been very quiet, too.” She gave me a speculative look. “Feeling okay?”
“Fine.” I smiled brightly. “Still a little sore from all that dancing on Saturday night.”
“Of course you're sore. You and your boyfriend danced nonstop for hours.” She shrugged into her coat and pulled on her gloves. “He's cute, by the way.”
“He is cute,” I agreed.
“How did you meet him?”
“My aunt introduced us.”
She wiggled her brows. “Do I hear wedding bells?”
“Hardly.” I waved her away. “You're getting to be just like my mom. One date, and it's a straight path to the altar.”
“Just wondering, that's all. You two make a nice-looking couple, you know.”
“Doesn't mean we have to end up getting married.”
“We'll see about that, missy,” she said. Rummaging through her purse, she fished out her car keys. “Good night.”
“Take care, Pinky.” I returned to work, grateful for the peace and quiet. Paul had left a few minutes ago, so I was left all alone to finish my last memo. My eyes were tired from working at the computer all day.
It wasn't just my eyes. My whole body felt drainedânot to mention my mind. I hadn't slept well the previous night. I needed to go home, eat a hot dinner, and get to bed early. At this rate I didn't know how I was going to last through the week.
Other than Ajit and my parents, I hadn't told anyone else about my interview. I'd told Paul and Pinky that I was going to California to visit my great-aunt and her family for a couple of days.
Holding on to a secret was exhausting.
I sent the memo to the printer and logged off my computer, then pressed my fingers over my eyes.
“You seem tired.”
I nearly jumped out of my seat at hearing that deep, familiar voice. My heartbeat shot up instantly.
Prajay stood in the doorway, taking up the entire space.
“Y-you startled me,” I murmured.
“Sorry. I thought you would have heard my footsteps.” He looked a bit tired, too. Must be those fourteen-hour days he'd mentioned.
“Guess the printer drowned them,” I replied. “How come you're still here? I thought you'd be gone after the party.”
“I had some things to take care of here. I'm leaving tomorrow.”
“I see.” Rising from my chair, I went to pluck my coat off the coatrack.
“Are you in a rush?” he asked, sliding his hands into his pant pockets.
I put on my coat. “Not particularly.”
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Sure.” I'd noticed his uncertain tone. “Why? You have another secret project or something?”
He flicked his shirt cuff to look at his wristwatch. “I'd like to take you out to eat.” He raised his brows. “That's if you don't have other plans?”
I glanced at him briefly. “No.”
“Good. I thought you might have plans with Ajit.”
“He lives in Connecticut.” I retrieved my purse from my desk drawer. “He was here just for the weekend.”
“So you'll go to dinner with me?”
“Sorry. Can't. I'm exhausted.” I waited for him to move aside so I could step into the outer roomâPinky's domain. “I just want to go home, eat with my parents, and call it an evening.” I gave him my best professional smile. “If there's something you need done, tell me. I promise I'll start working on the project first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Are you mad at me, Meena?” He looked unsure of himself.
I'd never seen him look like this. “Why would I be mad?” I shifted closer to Pinky's desk and placed my purse on it, just in case I needed to hang on to something solid to maintain my balance.
“I don't know. You've been distant and cool since my last trip to New Jersey.”
“You're my boss, Prajay.”
“So?”
I cleared my throat. “So there's the conventional employee-employer distance between us,” I replied, noticing the door leading out into the corridor was shut. Prajay had obviously closed it after he'd entered the suite.
But I wasn't worried about my safety. If anything, Prajay should've been worried about his. I was the one crazy in love with him, not the other way around.
“Don't be silly, Meena.” His eyebrows clenched into a tight, annoyed knot.
“You implied a while ago that our relationship should be nothing short of professional,” I reminded him, feeling just as annoyed as he looked. But I kept my best placid face on. Besides, I honestly wasn't in the mood to play his love manager any longer. I'd had enough of that.
I was secretly proud of my cool façade. Inside, however, my stomach was churning, nauseating me in the process. It was hunger. It must be.
“Oh, come on, we're more than colleagues. We're friends, too, aren't we?” he asked.
“We are?” I searched his face. “You're the one who said it was inappropriate for a boss to get too close to an employee.”
“That's not what I meant, and you know it.” His hands were out of his pockets. Now they were fidgeting with his car keys. “What I did to you that evening bordered on sexual harassment.
That
was inappropriate.”
“I kept telling you it wasn't harassment. I asked for it.”
“Doesn't mean it was right.”
“Okay, then. Whatever you think is right shall be done. You're the boss; you set the rules.” I pulled on my gloves. “Now, what was it you wanted me to do?”
“Nothing. I just want to talk to you.” His scowl remained.
“Fine, let's talk.” I faced him squarely, trying to ignore the electricity humming through me. “Everyone's gone home for the day. We can talk privately about anything you want.”
He sighed. “Never mind. You seem to be in a difficult mood.” He dismissed me with a wave. “Go home, Meena. You clearly need your rest.”
“You said you wanted to talk.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I'm ready to listen. Go ahead.”
“I was thinking of a more relaxing atmosphere than this office for what I had in mindâmaybe a bite to eat, where we could really talk. Like friends.”
Picking up my purse again, I slipped the strap over my shoulder. “But you've made it crystal clear that we're
not
friends. I'm your paid consultant, remember?” I moved toward the door, leaving him behind. “If friendship is what you want, why don't you call your girlfriend?”
“I don't have a girlfriend.”
My feet instantly stopped in their tracks. I pivoted around and faced him. “Your fiancée, then.”
“I don't have a fiancée, either.”
“Why not? What happened to your Amazon-in-a-sari?” Despite my sarcastic tone my heart fluttered a little. My lower lip started doing its usual trembling act. And I couldn't stop it in spite of biting hard on it. Any harder, and it would bleed.
“That's what I wanted to talk to you about.”
The tears were gathering momentum. They were burning my eyelids. In a second they'd come gushing out. What in God's name was wrong with me lately? Why couldn't I control my weeping?
This man was ruining my life, even my attitude toward life. Everything.
I took a step backward, away from his disturbing presence. “Look, I have no interest in your love life.” I swiped a gloved hand over the first traitorous tears that were pooling in my eyes. “Go find your own damn bride. Just leave me out of it.”
All my attempts at self-control had failed. I hated crying in front of him. I hated crying, period.
“Damn it, Meena! Don't do this to me.” In an instant he closed the space between us. He scooped me up in his arms, carried me back to my office, and shut the door with his foot. Depositing me on top of my desk, he kept his arms wrapped around me. “Don't cry. Please, baby, don't.”
I buried my face in his chest. Instead of feeling better, I felt worse. He was making it difficult for me to hate him. He really was a nice guy, but I wanted to dislike him. I needed to dislike him, to make myself fall out of love with him. The only way I could do that was by keeping my distance. Instead, here I was, sniffling, carrying on in his giant octopus arms and ruining his beautiful shirt.
“I'm s-sorry,” I hiccupped. “I d-don't usually cry like this.”
“That's okay.” He rubbed my back with long, gentle strokes. “You're tired and still recovering from an injured ankle.”
I latched on to that remark. “It's that stupid ankle and all that medication. It's turned my emotions to mashed potatoes.”
“I understand.” His hand moved from my back to my head. He smoothed my hair with the same soft motion. “You've had a lot to deal with. You've been working too hard and not getting enough rest.”
My weeping turned more bitter and noisy. Why was he being so kind and sweet? He was playing havoc with my equilibrium. If he'd been brusque and brutish, I'd have been fine.
I could stand up to a big bully. I could hold my own against any man, but I didn't know how to deal with this kind of warmth and tenderness. And all the while he held me and soothed me, like he would a child disturbed by a nightmare. He'd even called me
baby.
The tears eventually stopped, and all that remained was the annoying hiccups. I pushed away from him, grabbed a bunch of tissues from my desk, and thoroughly blew my nose. I couldn't stay close to him anymore.
One more second of that and I was likely to embarrass both of us by confessing that I was in love with him.
“Sorry,” I repeated. “I ruined both your shirt and your evening.”
“Not at all,” he assured me. “Anything to help a friend.”
“Well, since you played friend so admirably, it's my turn to return the favor. You said you wanted to talk?”
“We can do that some other time.” He studied my face with the same worried expression he'd worn the day I'd fallen outside his office. “You're in no shape to talk. You need to go home and rest.”
“No, I'm fine. Honest.” I slid off the desk, pulled off my gloves, and thrust them in my coat pocket before unbuttoning it. “Sit down, Prajay. Tell me what you came here to discuss.” Taking off my coat, I went around the desk to sit in my own chair. Putting the desk between us was necessary.
After a moment's hesitation he sat down in the guest chair. “All right. This won't take long. I just wanted to tell you that Archana and I aren't seeing each other anymore.”
A happy little note of satisfaction pinged in my brain. “Why?”
“She didn't like me.” He made a face, but it wasn't an unhappy expression. In fact it was funny.
“Really?” I asked on a shaky laugh. “What didn't she like about you?” How could anyone dislike a gentle giant with a clever brain, a big heart, and a sense of humor?
He shrugged. “Guess I'm just not a likeable guy.” He made that silly face again, wrinkled nose and all. “Isn't that obvious if I'm nearing forty and still single?”
“Means nothing,” I assured him. “I'm sure you'll find the right woman soon enough.” I thought about what my wise Akka would have said. “These things take time. When it happens, it happens very fast.”