by Sajni Patel
“She’s a friend of my fiancée, who is the sweetest,” Rohan continued.
“Definitely. Reema is awesome.” I’d been around her at mandir, and it was easy to see how lovely she was.
“Then you know she wouldn’t be best friends with Liya if Liya was such a horrible person. Now let’s play.”
While the guys grunted and returned to the game, albeit a little annoyed at being called out, I mulled over Rohan’s words. He was right. I shouldn’t judge Liya except on my own experiences with her. We had one experience. Bailing was something that I could get over. But being that rude and inconsiderate toward Ma was an entirely different matter.
We played another thirty minutes, my thoughts alternating between the game, Dad, and Liya, before a group of women walked into the room.
A couple of them seemed to recognize some of us guys and waved. But the last girl, who strolled in with a bright, glossy smile and the eyes of a Bollywood starlet, ran her gaze over us and met her friends against the wall.
It was her. Liya Thakkar. There was no denying it, not with her devastatingly beautiful features and arrogant tilt of the chin.
After a few minutes, one of the ladies approached us and said, “Are you done yet? We booked this room for five minutes ago.”
I was ready to drop the game, seeing that time had gotten away from us, and stepped out, but Ravi said, “Give us ten more.”
She shrugged and returned to her friends. After a few moments, Liya approached, hands on her generous hips, one foot tapping, and said in a rigid tone, “Are you done yet?”
“Ah, come on. How many times have we stopped in the middle of a game to let you all take the room?” Ravi asked.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never booked this place.” She swept a tired glance around the room. “If you’re so gentlemanly, then you’ll stop now. How many times do we have to ask? You know we’ve been waiting.”
“All right. All right.” Ravi and Rohan pulled the basketball hoop stand into the corner while Jahn and others swept the floor, as was the policy after using the room.
“What are you ladies doing?” I asked, digging through my irritation to give her one last chance. Maybe, just maybe, she’d been having an off day and had some hilarious reason to bail on dinner.
“Practicing,” she replied, her focus on the area as if mapping out the logistics of the room.
“Practicing what?”
She peered around me without a second glance. Did she not recognize me? “We’re going to perform a couple of dances at Rohan and Reema’s wedding reception.”
“That’s pretty cool. Need some guys to help?”
She paused, her sparkly red nail against the corner of her mouth. “No.”
“You sure? I can dance pretty well.”
“Not interested.”
“I’m just saying. Those dances are usually better when you have guys and girls in them.”
Every time Ravi walked by, they exchanged surly glances, and her mood was clearly moving toward angry.
“Are you done yet? We don’t have a lot of time left, thanks to you guys,” she said finally.
Actually, that was Ravi and the guys. I’d immediately stopped and was ready to clean up, but whatever. Instead, I said, “We’re putting things away. You don’t have to be so irritated.”
“Really, when we reserved this room, patiently waited, politely asked, and now I’m being told by some guy that I should be…less irritated?”
“Well, I didn’t mean it that way.”
“What exactly did you mean? I don’t think I’m being unreasonable. Now, are you done?”
“Well, unless you want to play,” I said jokingly, to lighten the mood. Maybe if I smiled, if she knew we could be cordial, Liya would relax a little.
“Listen, you are wasting our practice time.”
“I was actually kidding. Of course we’ll get out of your way.” I seriously wondered if this was the woman Ma had actually wanted me to meet, the one whose parents spoke so well of her. Or was I just catching her on a very off week?
“Can you move a little faster? We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Wow. Liya, right?”
“Yes. Obviously…” she muttered, the only indication she gave that she did indeed recognize me. “I would just like for you and your friends to leave. At this point, you’re just being a pretentious ass.”
“And you know me so well? I was offering to help you.”
“I know guys like you. Good-looking, cocky dudes who strut around thinking girls will give them anything because they wink at them. Please. Look at the way you’re standing, looking down at me, like you’re some god on a pedestal. You don’t even know you’re doing it. You think you can just smile and expect me to swoon?”
I glanced at our mingling groups, all warmth and conversations, and here we were, bickering. “No. That’s not even what I was trying to—Never mind.”
“Just say what’s on your mind.”
“Maybe you just have a stick up your butt. You need help getting that thing out, or do you like it wedged up there?”
She wiggled a little. “Feels good, actually.”
“I’m sure it hurts to walk. I’m Jay Shah, by the way. You might know the name? I know you must remember the face.”
She opened her mouth to shoot something back, but seemingly stuttered over whatever she was about to say. Maybe she was the tiniest bit embarrassed about what she’d done at her parents’ house. Would she apologize? Would she mention an excuse?
Now would’ve been the perfect time for her to say something.
And she didn’t.
Rohan popped up beside us, the court clean behind him as Jahn and the other guys left, and said, “Hey, Liya. What are you ladies doing here?”
As if we were in another realm, her face lit up. Her smile was breathtaking, not that her looks could erase the friction between us.
“Rohan! It’s a surprise for your wedding. You have to leave.” She beamed at him, her words sweet and almost singsong, the way a girl might speak endearingly to her brother.
Rohan tilted his head and pointed at himself. “I have a really good surprised face that I can use later.”
She shook her head, her grin never faltering. “Nope. Sorry. Anyway, how are you? Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”
“I’m good. Trying to get into shape before the big day.”
“Looking great. Don’t get too skinny, though, because we don’t have time to order a new sherwani from India.” She laughed with him, melodious and perfectly normal, as if we hadn’t just been annoying each other.
What the hell? I thought as I watched an interaction too sweet to tolerate.
He laughed and patted his stomach. “I’ll take your advice. I’m fiending some Tex-Mex right now.” He turned to me. “You in?”
“After we ‘worked out’?” I asked with air quotes.
“Please get him out of here,” Liya said, although I couldn’t tell which one of us she spoke to.
I shrugged, and we followed the other guys out. I elbowed Rohan and asked, “So that’s your idea of nice?”
“You must’ve done something to irritate her.”
“She’s like a bear? The slightest movement provokes her? I just smiled.”
“That did it, then,” he joked.
Chapter Three
Liya
A toasted bagel smothered in warm cream cheese hung out of my mouth while I perilously balanced a coffee in one hand and flipped through notes with the other. I wasn’t quite sure what had happened since the last lead left, but I might have, for the first time in my life, bitten off more than I could chew. Speaking of, I shoved more bagel into my mouth and felt cream cheese smear across my cheek. Creamy white stuff was the base of all jokes Wendy, my new assistant, made.
She grinned at me from over her purple-rimmed glasses and brushed the corner of her mouth. “You, uh, got something there. Wild morning?”
I tried not to laugh, because, one
, encouraging Wendy only added to her power, and two, the last thing I wanted was to spit out my bagel and ruin my four-hundred-dollar Alexander Wang sweater tee.
Covering my mouth, I held up a finger, trying to silence her and quell the impending laugh, but screw Wendy, because she said, “Careful, don’t want to choke on all that creamy white stuff.”
I absolutely lost it and erupted into very unladylike laughter. At least I didn’t choke. Wendy and I had been friends for almost a year now, and I was glad that becoming her boss with this promotion hadn’t ruined our relationship.
Tears pooled in my eyes. I fanned my face. “Stop it. Stop, seriously, I don’t want to ruin my eye makeup and look like a raccoon for my meeting.”
“Oh, honey. You set yourself up.”
“I’m so glad that we finally get to work together. You were always the highlight of coming up here to talk to the old boss.”
“Yeah. She couldn’t handle me the way you can.”
“What? She didn’t like your dirty jokes?”
“I think she almost fired me at one point!”
I laughed. “Why don’t you stop trying to make me choke and help me figure out this abysmal fiscal disaster?”
“Did Lisa leave you that much of a mess?”
“Yes.” I sipped coffee and downed the rest of my bagel, and then added, “I’m beginning to think her leaving was not her call. I hope, for the sake of her new job, that she isn’t in charge of their budget.”
“I’m not a budget genius, but I’ll try to help. Give me that one.” She flipped through a red folder and nodded her head, then shook it and tsked.
“You have no idea what you’re looking at, do you?”
She dropped the file on my desk. “Nope. That’s why you’re the boss and I’m your faithful assistant.”
“It’s okay.” I exhaled.
“Just tell the director you don’t know.”
“That’s not an acceptable answer,” I replied and paced my office, my nose buried in the red folder. Red meant urgent, right? These atrocious numbers had certainly acquired a rightful status in the red file. A headache thrummed above my nose and behind my eyes.
“I meant more like, you literally just stepped into this position this morning and are looking through files and will have an answer for them as soon as possible.”
“Better. I just can’t accept that I’m fumbling into my first meeting.”
“Not your fault. They won’t expect you to have figured this out within the first hour of getting your hands on it.”
“Mmm…” I hummed in disagreement. Things changed when an employee leveled up to executive status, and being manager over the entire research division left me only four positions away from CEO. There had to be a better response than “I don’t know.”
“Have a seat. I’ll need you to type some notes while I dictate. Divide and conquer.”
Wendy plopped into my cushioned leather chair and swiveled back and forth. “Nice, boss. I’ll transcribe for you anytime.”
Between the rapping against the keyboard, my Prada heels tapping against the wooden floor planks, and dictating, the nine o’clock hour sped by. This was the distraction that I needed to ignore the pangs in my chest for running out…not on Dad or Jay and his mother, but on Momma. She had messaged and called, but I couldn’t quite come to terms with the pain in her blubbering words. I’d selfishly avoided her, but I had to apologize. I had been deceived into that dinner, and perhaps my behavior hadn’t been rational, but it was meant for Dad and Jay—who was indeed the cocky type I’d thought he was. I hadn’t intended to hurt her. But that was me, always hurting my mom by default.
A subtle alarm went off, and it took a few sentences and three paces before I noticed.
“What is that?” I asked.
“You have ten minutes until your meeting.”
“You set an alarm?”
“Yes.” Wendy winked. “And ten minutes gives you time to wrap up that last thought, take a quick bathroom or coffee break, and head downstairs to conference room 1-B.”
I took the last swig of my now cold coffee. “Thank you.”
“I’m not just here to look pretty. I’ll finish this document, save it to a shared file, and head back to my desk.”
“See you in an hour. Wish me luck.”
“You’re Liya, who needs no such thing.”
“So sweet. You’ll make my teeth rot.”
Wendy’s laugh filled the office behind me as I left. I rushed through a bathroom break and checked my skirt and makeup in one of three large, oval mirrors. The dark circles under my eyes appeared a little more pronounced than usual.
Mental note: try a better concealer.
With an unstressed bladder, poised appearance, and chin up, I stepped out of the floral-scented bathroom. The hallway from my office to the elevator stretched the entire width of the building, and passing through without being stopped seemed impossible. A dozen people congratulated me, stopping to chat. I so valued the welcome, the support and appreciation of a lot of hard work and many long hours. As much as I wanted to stop, I had to thank them on my way to the elevator, checking my watch to realize I was now three minutes late for my meeting. Ugh. Screw me.
The elevator, of course, took forever, but I wasn’t about to break an ankle clanking down five flights of metal stairs in these high heels. I impatiently tapped a foot and silenced an annoyed groan when the doors opened to reveal four people and just enough room for me to wiggle in.
And of course people shuffled out at every floor, bumping me along the way, until only one other person remained standing alongside me. The doors slid open, and I hurried out.
To add to the ticking clock, conference room 1-B just had to be the farthest conference room from the elevator. I touched the door handle and took a few seconds to catch my breath. My heart pounded in my chest and my spiked adrenaline decided to stay spiked.
Clearing my throat, I turned the knob and quietly but quickly opened the door, thankful that the hinges didn’t squeak. As my gaze flitted across the room, paired with my apologetic whisper, it landed on an empty seat on the far side. I slipped into the chair, straightened my skirt underneath the oak table, and noted every person in the room from my director to the budget committee director.
The man at the head of the room, in front of a board filled with colorful charts, had stopped speaking the second I walked in and now glared at me. Oh, crap on the stick he said was up my butt, it was the guy from mandir, the pompous one who expected me to drop my panties with one smile.
Part of me wanted to just forget this entire mess, walk out, and yell, “Not today!” But there was, unfortunately, nowhere to go. And Liya Thakkar did not run from anyone, much less a man in her domain. I’d been here for years. Why was he suddenly here?
Jayesh Shah. He was like a fire ant. A tiny, annoying creature that, if given the chance, only required one minor sting to itch and burn and annoy for days and weeks to come.
He stated, “You’re ten minutes late.”
“I apologize.”
“Liya Thakkar?”
“I am.” As if he didn’t know.
“Hmm…” he hummed, and leisurely swept his gaze over me.
Oh, hell. I know he did not just pass judgment.
“I know you’re new to this upper management schedule, but in the case of meetings, we start on the hour. If you’re going to be late, you might as well not come.”
My director, Sam, who sat at the head of the table to my immediate left, grumbled beneath his breath and scratched his temple. My skin flared hot.
“If you can’t keep up—”
“I can keep up.” How about he just finish whatever presentation he had?
He crossed his arms, stretching the fabric of a well-tailored gray pinstripe suit. I couldn’t ignore the sharp look of his suit against medium brown skin, the lighter tones in his eyes, and his pitch-black hair. Having been very up close and personal sprawled over him on my parents’ law
n, those features could not be easily forgotten.
“Did you even read the emails that were sent out?”
I smiled smugly. “You must’ve forgotten to include me.”
“Apparently, as I see you’ve come empty-handed. Take a mental note, all of my meetings require a notepad and a report, but seeing that you’re sorely lacking in both areas, I assume we won’t be getting much information from you.”
I tapped a well-manicured ruby-red nail against the table. “Ask anything you’d like.”
He smirked, and if I believed in a devil, then I could bet my pretty panties I was staring at him right now. “What is your department deficit?”
I mentally went over the mash-up of numbers I’d read from the red file and replied, “Just under one million.”
“We’ll need specific numbers from now on. As well as comprehensive lab reports on all MDR products. Maybe you can make that your homework for our next meeting.”
“I apologize that I wasn’t able to provide an answer that pleases you within my first hour in this position, but I will have the figures for you next week.”
He began to roll his eyes but stopped short. He returned to his presentation as if I hadn’t responded at all. “Moving along…”
Jay was apparently the corporate lawyer newly assigned to our division, which explained why he took the entire hour to ramble. The basics were this: our company was on the brink of financial ruin, and he had to know how much money we could spare to stay afloat. Plenty of lawsuits were on their way, and he was here to try to curb them, if not stop them, hence needing detailed lab reports. I guess people would not stand for inferior medical diagnostic reagents (MDRs).
I groaned to myself, wondering how I’d ended up with a company that had caused so much suffering to patients.
Others offered a suggestion or two when Jay opened the floor for thoughts. When his gaze fell on me, that incredibly derisive smirk landed on his lips as he said, “Well, I’m sure your hour in your new position wasn’t enough time to figure this out.”