“For an unbelievably smart girl, you can be really dumb, Sally. Now, can we ease up on the schedule a bit? Can I stay home with you for a while?” Sally lifted her head and nodded, and Tod leaned in for a gentle kiss. “Good. I’m glad you've finally come to your senses. Now, let’s just focus on us and enjoying life, our business, and our friends. We have such an amazing life, Sally. Let’s slow down and enjoy it.”
“Okay.” She felt herself swell up with unshed tears again and cursed under her breath. What was her problem? She seriously needed some rest. Tod gathered her up and squeezed her tightly; she felt sore all over and gasped at the pressure.
“You need to start looking after yourself, babe.” She nodded into his hair. “I picked up a gift for you on the way home today. I think it will convince you that taking care of you and not worrying about other people is your number one priority.”
Sally pulled back from Tod and smiled at him. “You got me a spa day?” She really needed a spa day.
He grinned back at her and shook his head. “Nope, I got you this.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a squished brown paper bag. She frowned and reached out to take it, but he pulled it back. “Before you open this, Sally, I just want to tell you that you are truly the love of my life. I love you more than anything in the world, and I will love you more after today. You'll always be number one for me, no matter what. Got it?” She laughed and swatted at his hand, trying to get the package. He pulled it back again and used his other hand to lift her chin. His eyes were very serious. “Got it?”
“I got it!” she said. “Now, give me that present.”
Tod handed over the crinkled paper bag, and she upended it, the contents spilling into her hand. She picked up the white box and the penny dropped.
Oh my God, of course! That explains everything.
She looked at Tod, who was grinning from ear to ear, and started to laugh and cry at the same time. A thrill of understanding and excitement surged through her as he grabbed her, swept her into his arms, and headed straight for the bedroom. She leaned in to kiss him deeply, passion overtaking her as she realized how deep her love was for this man and the life he had given her.
The pregnancy test box spilled from her fingers and dropped to the floor. There was no rush to confirm what they already knew. They could deal with that later.
29
Nandita – The Fiancée
Nandita had woken up this morning bathed in the clinging remains of a very uncomfortable dream. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was vital that she remember and examine every second of this dream. It meant something important, and if she didn’t grasp the message her subconscious had been trying to send her, she’d be in some serious trouble. She didn’t go for any of that mystical, mumbo jumbo, though, so she tried to wash off the traces of the dream with a hot shower. It had worked for a half hour, but then, when making her morning coffee, she realized the dream was still with her.
What had happened, again? Ravi was in it—that she was sure of. She blushed when she remembered the only crystal-clear parts of the dream, but then something had happened and Ravi had vanished. Had she been in India? Satish had been there, too, or at least a young boy she thought was Satish. She didn’t know what her brother had been like when he was young, though, so there was a possibility it was someone else. What young boys did she know in India? She took her coffee to the balcony and tried to put it out of her mind. Today was an important day.
Today, she would meet the man who could save her life, at least as she knew it, but she couldn’t shake the thoughts of Ravi and that dream. Truthfully, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since their date a few days ago. She had never felt so connected or so damn attracted to a man. She was almost embarrassed for the way her body reacted to his touch.
When he had brought her home, she hadn’t invited him up for tea—she couldn’t. It had been a dreamy day, but if anything too serious happened between them, she wouldn’t have been able to continue with her self-ruse that it was only a summer fling. She had to remember that, even if she called off her lunch date today, it would change nothing. Ravi was off to medical school, and she would be unceremoniously packed off to India. How could any new relationship survive that? Nope, despite the dream and her reservations about this unorthodox way of reaching her goals, she needed to stick to the plan. There were no other options.
A few hours later, Nandita stood in front of Princeton Soup and Sandwich, staring at the man who could change her life.
“Adele was right: you are beautiful!” he said.
Nandita took inventory of the type of man who would agree to marry someone for money. He was older than her at maybe forty-five, slightly balding around the temples, and had a healthy respect for beer from the look of his belly bulging over his pants. His eyes were kind, though, and he was dressed as sharply as his belly would allow in cleanly pressed, gray, cotton pants and a white shirt with an extremely colorful tie. Nandita smiled as she got closer and realized the tie was a collage of cats. The man, Adele said, was named Henry, but he liked to be called Hank. He smiled back, perhaps mistaking her smile for pleasure in his compliment instead of a giggle at a fully-grown man wearing a cat tie. She swallowed the butterflies in her stomach. Was this the stupidest thing she had ever done?
She stuck out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Henry.”
“Hank, please” He shook her hand as though she were the CEO of a construction company, lifting her slightly off her feet with each pump, and then gave her another huge, twinkly-eyed grin. “Do you want soup? They have great soup here. You oughta try the lobster bisque.” Nandita thought soup was probably the most dangerous food you could choose when you were trying to make a good impression on someone, but she nodded anyway. Hank disappeared inside the tiny storefront, so she made herself comfortable at one of the small tables outside.
A few minutes later, the shop door opened and Hank emerged. He was beaming as he carried a tray filled with food. She pushed Ravi from her mind—he just wouldn’t leave—and smiled back at him.
“So, I got the bisque for you,” he said, “but I also got you a sandwich, just in case you didn’t like it.”
“Thank you.” She moved her sunglasses to the edge of the table, so that he could spread out the food. It just kept coming. At least with Hank, she wouldn’t starve.
“So, tell me everything about yourself,” he said. “I want to know everything. Adele tells me you’re a student and you’d like to go to Princeton? I went to Princeton, you know?”
“You did?” Adele hadn’t told her that. Now that was interesting news.
“Sure did, and I've got a lot of great contacts there. I sorta give them lots of money.” He blushed when he said it and shifted in his seat. “Not that I’m bragging, or anything—about the money, I mean—it’s just that it gives me lots of, kind of, power over there, you know? I could help you re-apply this year and pull some strings.” He blushed again.
Nandita’s fingers went all tingly with excitement, and she scooped up a spoonful of soup to try to hide her eagerness. “Well, thank you. That’s very generous of you.” She swallowed the soup too quickly and burned her tongue before coughing uncontrollably and grabbing her water to cool her throat. Did he think she was too easy? “I mean, it would be generous of you, if this all works out.”
Hank slammed down his cardboard bowl of soup with a bang; some lobster slopped over the side. “Oh God, I’ve screwed up, already, haven’t I? You don’t want some guy who’s going to come in and trample all over you with his macho crap. Adele tells me you are a strong, independent girl—I mean, woman—and I’ve already told you how you need me to take care of you, even though you don’t need me to take care of you, of course. I mean, I can take care of you if you want me to, but I’m not the kind of guy who would insist you stay home, barefoot, cooking me dinner, or something. You don’t think I’m that guy, do you?”
Throughout his rambling monologue, Hank’s face got redder and redde
r. He was embarrassed, sure, but Nandita thought it was also the hot soup, the hot day, and that darn cat tie squeezed tightly around his thick neck. His kind eyes frantically searched hers for some sign that he had offended her, but Nandita giggled and shook her head. Surprisingly, Hank seemed to be a sweet guy.
“Don’t worry, Hank—you haven’t screwed up. It was a gracious offer you just made, and it kind of blows my mind actually. I didn’t read into it.” She motioned to her neck, tapping a finger on her throat where a tie knot would be. “Please, don’t think we need to be so formal either. You might be more comfortable if you…”
“Of course, of course.” Hank reached up to loosen his cat tie. He pulled the knot down a few inches and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his work shirt. “I work a lot, which is why I have the tie on. I’m not always formal. I have a company, you know—a construction company. I mean, I don’t work in construction, if that’s what you're thinking. I do work in construction, but not on construction. It’s just…” He looked around as though seeking help from some invisible conversation counselor, but there was none to be found, so he picked up his soup and started shoving spoonfuls into his mouth. It seemed he had given up on that sentence.
She liked him, so she decided to throw him a lifeline. “Adele told me you build hotels. She said that’s part of the reason she matched us: I’d like to be an architect. I’d love to hear more about your company.”
Hank grinned at her, “An architect! Well, we do have lots to talk about, then.”
The next few hours passed quickly. Conversation with Hank was surprisingly comfortable and easy. When she had imagined the kind of guy who would be willing to marry a total stranger for money, she'd never thought it would be someone like Hank. Sure, he wasn’t incredibly handsome in the conventional sense of the word, but he wasn’t bad-looking, either. He was older than her, but there were plenty of women who would find him attractive.
The main vibe Hank put out into the world was kindness and sincerity. He was genuinely interested and engaged in everything she had to say. He was fascinated by her stories of growing up in India (he’d never traveled), and wanted to hear every detail of her college experience. He was obviously successful, but he didn’t flaunt it. In fact, he almost seemed embarrassed when he mentioned his house in the heart of the Princeton historical district and his little condo on Cape Cod that he kept for escape weekends. He was a great guy, Nandita decided. He was no Ravi, but she could do worse.
“I’m sorry I have to rush off,” he said, clearing the table himself and getting up to take the cluttered tray inside, “but I'd love to see you again. Do you think you could stand another few hours of my company?”
Nandita smiled, “Of course! I’d love to have lunch again.”
“Done!” Hank said, a huge smile spreading across his face. “How about tomorrow? I’ll pick a swell spot within walking distance.”
“Sounds great,” Nandita said.
She stood to leave, and Hank quickly put down the tray to free his hand. He reached out to her. “I’ll text you later. It was wonderful meeting you, Nandita.”
She shook his hand again, subjecting herself to his aggressive enthusiasm. How different this handshake was from her first handshake with Ravi. She couldn’t help comparing, even though she had to get Ravi out of her head. Her future was standing right here in front of her; Hank was the future she had worked so hard to win. Why, oh why, had she broken her “no men” rule for Ravi?
She crossed the square toward her apartment, deep in thought. Maybe this green card thing could be her solution, after all. Hank could get her into Princeton; in fact, he told her he could practically guarantee that she could start in the spring, if that was what she wanted. She stared across at the archway across Nassau Street, the entrance to the campus. It was where she had been aiming for the past three years, and Hank could make it happen.
Last night’s dream popped right back into her head, then, less like the dregs of a dream and more like real memories. Ravi in her kitchen, pushing her against the counter with his hips and leaning in for a kiss. Ravi in her bed. Ravi emerging from the shower in a minuscule towel with drops of water spilling slowly down his dark skin.
Okay, so Hank was no Ravi, but Ravi was dangerous. Was that the message her subconscious was trying to send her? Ravi will make you stray from your path. Don’t do it! She reminded herself there was a reason she had outlawed men: they were distracting. She’d discovered that truth through her experience with the rich, wealthy, criminal, Brad. He had tried to make her stray—tried to control her. Ravi would never try to control her, but when she was with him, she felt out of control. That wouldn’t do.
With a man like Hank behind her, she would be completely in control. She'd call the shots and Hank would only be too happy to go along for the ride. She needed to break things off with Ravi. It was too intense for a summer fling, and if she were to go ahead with this marriage, he would only be hurt in the end. The thought made her entire body cringe in resistance and tears sprang to her eyes, but she chided herself for that reaction. Get a grip, she told herself. You have plans, remember? No men, no friends, and no distractions.
30
Claire – The Announcement
“Gather round, gather round.” Claire stood in front of the red curtain of the dressing room in her boutique. Maureen, Sally, and Nandita stood in front of her with big smiles on their faces and glasses of champagne in their hands.
They had all gathered here tonight for the big reveal. The bridesmaid's dresses had nearly killed Claire; it turned out that her idea to make every bridesmaid dress, as well as her wedding dress, wasn’t the best one she’d ever had. Once she'd started them, though, she was in it until the end. Hopefully, today was close to the end. She'd taken all of the girls' measurements very carefully, so this fitting should only result in minor changes. Without any drastic alterations, it meant she was practically done and could relax a little before the big day.
She took a deep breath.“Ta-da!” Claire pulled the curtain back and stepped out of the way.
“Yes!” Maureen bounced on her feet and was about to start clapping before she realized she had a mimosa in her hand; the liquid swung dangerously in the glass.
Claire stepped forward and spread her arms wide, blocking the view of the dresses. “Um, same rules as last time, girls! Get those glasses out of your hands before you come anywhere near my dresses.”
They all rushed to the bar at the side the room, put down their glasses, and rushed back. Now Maureen jumped and clapped in excitement. “Stephen is going to die, Claire! You killed it!”
Claire had decided that one of the most important things she could give as a gift to her best friends was to save them from the dreaded bridesmaid dress. Instead of a puffy mess in powder blue, she would make each of them an LBD—a Claire Original that could go straight into their closets for numerous wears in the future. Maybe some would say black wasn’t appropriate for bridesmaids, but she had no mother or mother-in-law to tell her otherwise, so she did what would make her friends happy. Each dress was unique and matched perfectly to the style and personality of each woman.
Maureen had a bombshell body: all boobs and hips in an hourglass shape. In normal life, she favored conservative clothing and dressed up very rarely, but Claire wanted her to stand out at her wedding. Maureen knew which one was hers immediately and reached out to finger the black, muted satin with reverence. “It’s gorgeous,” she said. She had gone retro, pin-up girl style for Maureen. The front of the dress was cut into a deep V to show off her plentiful cleavage. It was a halter neckline, and the straps would tie in a long bow behind her neck with the ends hanging down to bring attention to her bare back. A body-hugging skirt stopped just below the knee. It was simple, but Maureen inside it would make it a knockout.
Nandita reached forward to pick up her dress and turned, grinning. “Oh, Claire, it's beautiful.” She was more conservative than Maureen and Sally, but Claire still wanted her to ha
ve something that made her feel sexy and beautiful. She had decided on a more casual gown. The top of Nan’s dress was a very basic scoop neck with tiny spaghetti straps. It was fitted to the waist, where there was a band of Claire’s signature freshwater pearls, and beneath was a long, flowing skirt of gauzy chiffon. Claire had made Nandita a variety of belts, so the dress could move quickly from day to night.
When she looked at Sally, she saw she was crying… again. She was trying to be discreet by doing this weird shrugging thing where she pulled her shoulder forward and used it to wipe her face, but it wasn’t working.
“What’s wrong, Sal?” Claire was worried about her. She had been super emotional lately, the Tod problems must be really getting to her. She had meant to make time for a Maxwell’s date with Sally to catch up with her and get the scoop, but this wedding was taking up every minute of her day. Now she felt sorry for neglecting her.
Sally didn’t answer, but kept crying and waving her arms in a flourish toward her dress as though she were Vanna White turning a letter on Wheel of Fortune.
Claire got worried. “You don’t like it,” she said as a statement rather than a question, because that could be the only explanation for Sally being unable to talk. No matter what happened, she was always able to talk. Claire had thought the dress was perfect for her; she needed a dress as fun and flirty as she was. She’d made her a strapless mini-dress with a ruched top and a puffy skirt, like a cupcake wrapper. Maybe Sally had been hoping for something more formal?
Sally hitched in a breath and finally got her words out. By this point, everyone had stopped admiring their own dresses and stood silent and staring.
“It’s beautiful, Claire. It’s the most gorgeous dress I’ve ever seen, but…” Sally broke out into sobs and collapsed to the floor of the dressing room, “it won’t fit!”
Uncharted (Jersey Girls Book 3) Page 13