“You're so smart and practical, Meena,” he said. “And wise beyond your years. That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh?”
“You understand me so well. You're the only one I can talk to. I mean really talk.”
“Glad to be of help.” I stood up once again and reached for my coat. Outside the window, it looked pitch dark. The forecast had promised snow at night. I hoped it hadn't started already. That's when it struck me that it was a blessing my office was on the sixth floor. No one could have seen me enfolded in Prajay's arms. There was no other tall building in the immediate vicinity.
He got to his feet, too. “Thanks for being a good listener.”
“So, I guess you'll be contacting the next person on your matrimonial list?”
“No, I've decided to give up on that. I have something else in mind. I ...” He shook his head when I gave him another questioning look. “Never mind, I'll tell you some other time, when you're not so tired.”
Once again I pulled on my gloves and adjusted the wool scarf around my neck, wondering what his Plan B involved. Singles' bars? Going to India to find a suitable bride? Arranged marriage like his parents and my folks had?
It was none of my business, I reminded myself.
“If you lower your expectations substantially, there's no reason why you can't find the woman of your dreams,” I said to him before opening the main door of the suite and stepping into the hallway.
“Meena, wait. I have to ask you something.”
“What?”
He studied the keys in his hands for a beat, as if he were trying to figure out where each one fit. “Is it ... is it true you're looking for a job on the West Coast?”
After a moment of silence I nodded. “I'm giving it serious consideration.”
“Are you unhappy here?”
“No.”
“You must be, if you're looking for other jobs.”
“That's not it.”
“Is it the salary? The kind of work?”
I shook my head. “It has nothing to do with my job or my work here.”
“Then what is it?”
“Strictly personal reasons.”
When I glanced at him to gauge his reaction, Prajay looked bemused, like he was seeing me for the first time. Then his eyes went wide. “I get it! Ajit must be moving to California, and you want to be near him.”
“Good night, Prajay.” I let him draw his own conclusions. Let him think I was in love with Ajit and whatever else rode on that assumption. “Please pull the door shut when you leave, if you don't mind.” I started striding toward the elevators. I knew he was staring at my back, so I fought the urge to turn around.
Outside, it definitely felt like snow in the air. Shivering, I got behind the wheel of my car and waited for the engine to warm up. He'd been so kind to me, so understanding. How could I even think of giving up my dream job at his company and walking away? Being with him, literally in his arms, had tempted me to call Brian Murphy's office and cancel my interview.
But now, sitting alone in my car, in a dark parking lot, the hopelessness of the situation caught up with me afresh. Prajay hadn't shown one iota of interest in me. Granted, his heartbeat while I had my face buried in his chest had sounded like drums beating furiously, and his hand moving over my back had been a little unsteady, but as long as he considered me a friend and nothing more, I had to walk away from himâsooner or later.
For the sake of my mental health, I preferred to make it sooner.
Chapter 33
I
boarded the hotel shuttle bus outside the Los Angeles airport, gave the driver my name, and told him I had a reservation. I was the first passenger in.
“Welcome to LA,” he said absently. It was probably a standard greeting required of him. He was an older African-American man with thick glasses and loads of unruly gray hair. He got up from his seat, grabbed my suitcase, and deposited it in the luggage area. I held on to my laptop and purse, my precious possessions.
“Thank you.” I smiled at him. “My reservation was booked and paid for online.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he concurred.
“Roughly how long is the ride to the hotel?” I asked him. I was dead tired after the long coast-to-coast flight, and the prospect of sitting in a stiff seat for another hour or more wasn't appealing.
“About thirty minutes, depending on traffic.”
“Thanks,” I said, gratefully sinking into the single seat directly behind his. He kept the engine running for a while and waited till several other passengers came aboard.
Meanwhile I took off my jacket, settled back in my seat, and closed my eyes. But I couldn't relax. I'd had a difficult week. Ever since that unexpected visit from Prajay, and the odd, disturbing conversation we'd had, I'd been irritable.
Every night I'd tossed and turned, and every day I'd been second-guessing my decision to go to the job interview.
When the bus finally started to move and pulled out of the airport's concrete confines, I opened my eyes and delighted in the golden sunlight coming through the window. The warmth was welcome after the wintry weather in New Jersey. And despite my long flight, with the time difference it was still afternoon here in LA.
I still had a couple of hours of sunshine ahead of me. With a bit of my energy returning, I decided I wasn't going to waste them.
Once I got to the hotel and strode into the spacious lobby, I took a deep breath and looked around. It was a nice lobby, with subdued décor and lighting and a long, cherry reception desk.
A tastefully decorated Christmas tree sat next to the desk, reminding me once again that Christmas was two days away. Sadly, I had put away plenty of money in my Christmas fund this year, but hadn't shopped for any gifts.
The hotel wasn't fancy, but it was extremely generous of Brian Murphy to arrange this for me. A twinge of guilt stabbed me right between the ribs.
Nonetheless it was too late to go back to New Jersey, so I had to make the most of my trip. I approached the desk and the young blond woman standing behind it.
“Would you like a valet to take your luggage upstairs, Miss Shenoy?” she asked a few minutes later, handing me my key card after she'd finished registering me.
“That won't be necessary, thanks. I don't have much luggage,” I explained. “But I would appreciate a map of the local area and a list of cab companies, please.”
She produced both right away. I tucked them in my purse, thanked her again, and walked toward the bank of elevators, wheeling my suitcase beside me. As I waited for the elevator to arrive, I observed the street scene outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Maybe I could take a quick shower and head back out, check out some of the stores. Their display windows looked inviting, with elegant wreaths, twinkling lights, and gold and silver bows. I could stop at a neighborhood café and pick up some seafood for dinner. The brilliant sun was beckoning me.
I'd been to LA some years ago, but that was to attend a Konkani convention with my parents. We'd been surrounded by crowds of fellow Konkanis who had come together from every part of the U.S. and Canada, and some even from the Middle East and the U.K. It wasn't the same as having the freedom to discover the place alone.
A strong floral scent greeted me as I let myself into my room. Whatever they used to deodorize the rooms here was potent, I reflected, closing the door behind me. But I enjoyed perfumes, so it wasn't a problem.
And then I saw themâflame-colored roses arranged in a vase and a bottle of white wine chilling in a bucket of ice sitting on a table beside the window.
Sunshine poured in like liquid gold through the panes, making the glass vase look iridescent. Sweat had beaded on the outside of the stainless steel ice bucket.
What a marvelous welcome. These West Coast folks really knew how to treat a potential employee. I was being wooed like the next CEO of a major corporation.
But all this fuss was only adding to my guiltâI was being treated like royalty when I wasn't even serious about the job. Another troubling thought came on the heels of that one. Their magnanimity made me wonder what sort of job it was. Why were they trying so hard? What was the real reason the previous employee wasn't coming back to her position? Was this a job from hell? What exactly was I getting myself into?
Again, it was too late to turn back.
I dropped my luggage and purse on the floor and walked across the room to read the card propped against the bucket. The message was brief. And anonymous.
Meena, Wishing you lots of luck. Enjoy your surprise.
It was certainly a delightful surprise.
Frowning, I read the note again. Who could have sent me flowers
and
wine? The message sounded too familiar and friendly to be from Brian Murphy. No one in my very down-to-earth family was the wine and roses type. Suddenly I knew.
“Ajit, you devil!” I said aloud with a chuckle. It was thoughtful of him to send me such lavish gifts just to wish me luck. But then again, I was his shortcut to Amrita.
I took an appreciative sniff of one fat rosebud. Lovely. The wine was a nice California chardonnay. “You have class, my friend. Amrita's a lucky girl,” I said.
“Not all of it was his idea,” said a voice behind me, making me jump.
With a squeal I turned around. The card slipped out of my hand.
Prajay stood halfway across the room, hands in his pockets.
“What the ...” I stared at him.
He didn't say one word, but stood rooted to the spot, clearly enjoying my confusion. I blinked a couple of times.
I had to be hallucinating. I couldn't shake Prajay from my mind, no matter how far I ran from him. I blinked again, hoping to clear my vision. But the hologram wouldn't go away.
“Surprised?” he asked finally.
“More like cardiac arrest,” I shot back, wondering how I still had a tongue in my mouth. And asking myself why I was talking to a computer-generated image. A technical genius like Prajay could probably create something spooky like a hologram quite easily.
“This is
your
surprise?” I asked nevertheless, gesturing toward the table.
He nodded. “Part of it. The flowers are from me. The wine's from Ajit.”
“Gee, thanks. You must want me out of your life desperately if you're wishing me luck with a job interview at some other company.”
“You've got it all wrong,” he said.
“Anyway, what are
you
doing in
my
hotel room?”
“Welcoming you to LA,” he said.
“Why? Making sure I go to the interview and take the damn job?” The delusion was continuing too long and getting more bizarre by the second. I needed to snap out of it and face reality. Seeing his image like this was too upsetting.
“I wanted to be with you.” His eyes looked warm in the bright light. His clothes had a few uncharacteristic creases in them. A shadow of a beard made his skin look darker on the cheeks and chin. He appeared a little travel-weary, just like me.
He was a figment of my imagination. He looked delectable all the same.
Unable to stand on my shaking legs any longer, I collapsed onto the sofa next to the bed and closed my eyes. “This is a dream, isn't it? I can't take this anymore. Please ... tell me this is only a dream and you're not real.” I opened my eyes.
“It's not a dream.” Maybe to prove it, he finally began to move toward me. “It's real.
I'm
real.”
“If it's not a dream, then what are you doing in LA? There's something wrong with this picture.”
“Like what?”
“You should be in your office ... or wining and dining some beanpole with a Mensa membership card.”
He sat down beside me. “I was in my office until this morning. I flew in a little earlier than you.”
“Really?” I wondered what in heaven's name was going on. He still hadn't revealed what he was doing here. In
my
hotel room.
“Because of the Christmas rush I had to do a lot of maneuvering to get a last-minute ticket from DC to LA.”
I squinted up at him, still suspicious about my mental condition. “You mean you followed me here?”
He nodded and picked up my hand. No wonder he looked somewhat disheveled.
The warmth in that large hand was real enough. Just to make sure, I let my free hand glide over his, the long, square-tipped fingers, the texture of the skin, the short hair on the back of it, and the sturdy knuckles. His hand shook a little, just like mine.
There was satisfaction in knowing a tiny person like me could make a guy like him tremble.
Okay, I wasn't dreaming. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Thanks to two very nice people.”
“My parents?” Unlikely, but not impossible.
He shook his head. “Akka and Ajit.”
My eyes opened wide. “Akka?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“Akka was sworn to secrecy. She promised not to rat on me. And Ajit had no business telling you any of this.”
“Don't be mad at those two. After Akka called me, I called Ajit and forced him into telling me where you'd be staying in LA.”
“I can see how you bullied Ajit, but why would Akka feel the need to call you?”
“She said she was breaking an oath, but she couldn't stand by and see you miserable, so she called me at my office yesterday. She was lucky to reach me on a Saturday, too. She told me you're in love with me.”
My cheeks instantly warmed. How embarrassing. And dismaying. Akka had betrayed me. The one person I'd trusted and always held in high esteem had given away my deepest secret. How
could
she?
Prajay put a thumb under my chin and raised it so I could meet his inquiring gaze. “Is that true, Meena?”
I remained silent for a few beats. “Yes,” I admitted finally. “And to think I trusted the old lady.”
“She's a wonderful old lady. She went against her conscience for you and me. I'm very grateful to her for giving away your secret.”
“Why?” I murmured.
“If it weren't for Akka, I'd never have known how you felt about me.”
I'd been wearing my heart on my sleeve all this time, and he still hadn't known? But now he knew everything, thanks to Akka. This was humiliation to the max. My heart was wide open for an assault. “Why did you come all the way to LA?” I demanded.
“To take you home.”
“Home?”
“I've been a big, blundering fool, Meena. I've fought my feelings for you since the day I met you.”
“The day I fell down?”
“You were so small and pretty and in so much pain. I felt awful because I'd almost killed you with my clumsy ways. I was so damn relieved to learn that it was no more than a sprained ankle.”
“It was partly my fault.”
“Later, I wanted to tell you how I felt when you were in Virginia, but you were so stiff and professionalâhard to approach. Besides, we didn't have a single private moment.”
“You had plenty of other opportunities,” I reminded him dryly.
“Last week, I stopped by your office and asked you out to dinner, so we could talk privately. I wanted to tell you then. But you gave me the cold shoulderâand the impression that you had something going on with Ajit Baliga.”
“I never said anything.”
“Precisely.” He shook a finger at me. “When I asked you about the California job, you clammed up, again leading me to think it had something to do with Ajit.”
“How could I have known what you had on your mind that evening? Why couldn't you just spit it out instead of beating around the bush? As far as I knew, you were obsessed with finding a tall woman,” I retorted.
“At first yes, but not after I got to know you better. That's when I began to realize I had very strong feelings for you.”
“Then why did you continue looking for an Amazon, for heaven's sake? I pretty much offered myself to you that night in your condo. But you rejected me.”