by P. G. Van
Anjali frowned. “What would I be doing all that time?”
“Some of it is you doing the work, and the rest is training me to do what you do.”
“Enough of the mystery. I need to know now what I will be doing and what the heck I will be teaching you?”
“For example, let’s say cooking. I know you cook well. You could teach me how to cook.”
“I am a terrible cook. What makes you think I am a good cook?” The creepy feeling was crawling up her neck again.
“You get the point.”
“I don’t.” She shook her head.
Dheeraj chuckled before standing up and looking down at her. He pulled out his card from his pocket and handed it to her. “Spend the day with me tomorrow. I will come get you. Text me when you are ready.”
“I… I have to prepare for a job interview tomorrow,” she blurted out.
His eyes scanned her face, lazily. “You already have a job in hand, Geetanjali.”
“Anjali… I prefer Anjali.” She stood up looking into his eyes. She hadn’t realized how tall he was until she stood less than a foot from him.
He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I will after you become my wife.”
“I haven’t decided what I am going to do yet.”
“Understood. I hope to help you make that decision. I will see you tomorrow morning. I trust you to keep our conversation to yourself.”
“Yes.” Her response was a whisper.
Dheeraj nodded. “Your friends are in the VIP lounge. Enjoy your night.”
Anjali watched him leave, ignoring her mumbling as she said, “Good night.” The suit jacket he was wearing stretched tightly over his broad and determined shoulders making him look bigger than he was. This overwhelming situation made everything around her seem intimidating, including the man who started it all.
She let out a sigh before stepping back into the bar. She held the card he gave her securely, glancing at the bar to see if he was still around. She was surprisingly relieved not to see him, a complete stranger who threatened to upset her world. The one that was already rocky.
*****
Next morning, Anjali rolled in bed groaning in response to the steady thudding inside her head. Thanks to Mr. WantAFakeWife, she and her friends had too much to drink. She couldn’t deny that it was fun, but the moment reality hit, her eyes fluttered open.
She had a big decision to make—take up the ridiculous job offer that is a ticket to achieving her goals or steer away from all of it and keep looking for a job. She was having a tough time finding a job because of the circumstances under which she lost her previous job.
She blinked her eyes when she saw the time on her phone. It was almost noon, and she had text messages from an unknown number.
Unknown: Hey, beautiful… can’t stop thinking about you.
Unknown: Can’t wait to see you today.
Both messages were sent over an hour ago, and she rolled her eyes when she realized it had to be Dheeraj. Anjali didn’t know anyone else who would text her such cheesy messages, not that she expected them from him either. She knew it had something to do with creating the ‘love story.’
She was too tired to think about the rest of the day—coffee first.
A short while after, Anjali was on the balcony off of her kitchen scrolling through her phone for all the search results for ‘Dheeraj Varma.’ The internet gave her too much information—all good— from articles about his new company he started a few years ago to many articles about how he is the most eligible bachelor in the city. She clicked through page after page of articles and stopped when something caught her eye—an article with a title very different from all the other search results. The blog was all about the city celebrities. She scrunched her nose wondering what made him a ‘celebrity.’ The amount of money he offered as her settlement for the contract was not a small number, but money alone didn’t make someone popular. The blogger talked about how everything was perfect about Dheeraj except for the fact that he doesn’t date. He hadn’t been spotted with a movie star or model like the other famous singles in the city.
Anjali let out a gasp when she read the blogger’s speculation.
‘Could the most eligible bachelor be gay?’
Before she could give it any more thought, she heard a knock on her door. She let out a sigh as she was not really in a position to talk to one of her friendly neighbors who checked in on her from time to time. She wanted to continue her research on Mr. WantAFakeWife.
Her eyes widened when she saw who was on the other side of the door.
Dheeraj!
Her initial response was to place her forehead on the door to brace the moment debating if she should pretend to be away and or asleep, so he would go away.
Another knock—a persistent one.
“Geetanjali.” The way he said her name made her want to smile and growl at him at the same time. She didn’t like to be addressed by that name—it was only for the special person in her life—her grandma. Yet, when he said it, it made her want him to say it again. It reminded her of the woman who raised her.
She slowly clicked open the lock and opened the door just a few inches.
“Good morning. How are you?” His tone was the same as last night, but she ignored it as her eyes fell from his face to the flowers he was holding in his hands. She opened the door a bit wider when he reached out to give her the flowers.
Anjali took the colorful bouquet, and on instinct, took the flowers to her nose enjoying the beautiful smell.
“I know you aren’t a fan of roses.”
She looked up at him, surprised. “What?”
“Will you let me come in, so I can explain?” The end of his mouth twisted up slightly.
Anjali took a few steps back to let him into her apartment, a complete stranger. She only knew what she found out about him online, but she had to let him into her home. She shut the door behind her and felt the creeps coming back when she saw him settle into the couch in the living room.
“I hope you had fun last night.” He leaned back getting comfortable.
“Why are you here?”
“Right down to business, I like that.” He smiled, a genuine joy reflecting in his eyes.
“I still haven’t decided if I want to do any of this, and here you are showing up uninvited at my place.” She was suddenly pissed.
“This was part of the agreement. You said you would go out with me today,” he retorted.
“I didn’t agree to…”
“You didn’t object either.”
“So, you just decided to show up at my house?” Her voice blared in the large living room.
Dheeraj stood up, took slow steps toward her, and his eyes bore into hers. “Tell me you don’t need the money, and I will leave now, and the offer will be off the table.”
A shudder passed through her at the sudden anger in his voice, and she stood looking at him in silence. Moments passed, and she returned his glare as he moved to walk past her. She inadvertently stepped in his path and placed her hands on his chest.
“Wait,” she blurted out looking at him as his eyes fell to his chest where her palms were flattened on the fabric of his shirt.
He looked up from his chest when she dropped her hands to her sides. “I will wait… for you to get dressed to go out with me.”
“I need time,” she murmured.
“Take your time.” His voice was a low rumble as he went back to sit on the couch.
Anjali had to get out of his sight to think clearly. She felt an unknown pressure to accept the job offer when he was around her. He made her feel desperate like she didn’t have any other way to get the money she needed. If only she could get back what was rightfully hers from the people who have been living off of her inheritance.
Anjali had an inheritance that would last her five lifetimes but no access to it. She needed the money to fulfill her grandma’s last wish. She stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom as the
reality sunk in—she was left with only one choice—an option she would never consider sane and yet was now her opportunity to achieve her goals. She sighed and walked into the shower in hopes of washing away the fatigue from all the thoughts running through her head.
Thirty minutes later, Anjali stepped out of her bedroom wearing a long cotton dress. She picked an outfit that was conservative, so it didn’t send any wrong signals. She stopped right outside the door and looked at him, wanting to observe him as he looked down at his phone. He hadn’t noticed her, and she stood in silence almost trying to gauge what she could just by looking at his chiseled profile. A few moments later, she saw him take in a slow, deep breath, his eyes shut lazily, before he turned to look in her direction as if sensing her presence.
“I’m ready to go,” she said taking a few steps toward him.
He looked up from his phone, the expression in his eyes unfaltering as he looked at her. “That was fast, and you smell wonderful. Reminds me of spring in Bali… beautiful.”
Dheeraj stood in his spot as if waiting for her to respond to his compliment. When she picked up her keys from the side table and walked to the door, he followed her without another word. She locked her apartment door and turned to look at him.
“Where are we going?”
“Lunch. What do you feel like eating?”
Food was the last thing on her mind. She was worried sick about what she was about to walk into, but it was a risk she had to take however ridiculous it sounded—the idea of the fake marriage and going out with a complete stranger.
“I have no preference.” Her voice was a whisper.
“Can I take you to my place?”
“No.” He had barely finished his question before she responded making his lips curve up slightly as if in amusement.
“You’ll have to go to my place at some point. I’m okay to wait.”
She stepped into the elevator and looked at him. “I want to pick where we go.”
“Good. I would like to know what you like.” He smiled.
Anjali was confused. The man wanted a fake marriage but wanted to know everything about his potential pretend wife?
Chapter 3
Fifteen minutes later, Dheeraj pulled the SUV into the valet parking area of the restaurant of Anjali’s choice. She seemed nervous throughout the ride, and he didn’t blame her for feeling insecure. The idea of arranging this deal didn’t give him a warm fuzziness either, but he needed to do it. He knew she dreaded the entire idea as much as he did. She had her eyes on the road all the while they drove to the restaurant.
He handed the keys to the valet at the entrance and walked over to where she stood waiting for him.
“Do you come here often?” he asked looking at the traditionally designed restaurant which was overly familiar to him.
“Not very often, but I like the food here.”
Dheeraj led her into the restaurant and smiled at the man approaching him. “Hello, Dheeraj, sir. How are you?”
“I’m good, Ravi. Thank you. Can we get a table for two?” Dheeraj smiled at Anjali’s shocked expression.
“Of course, sir. Please follow me.”
Dheeraj saw the blank expression deepen on her face as he reached out to take her hand in his and led her to the back of the restaurant to a more private space away from the standard dining area.
“I hope you enjoy your meal. I will have someone attend to you momentarily,” the man said.
“Thank you, Ravi.” Dheeraj smiled at the man as he left and turned to look at the woman seated across from him. Her expression had shifted from surprise to scrutiny.
“How do you know that man?”
“I’ve been here before.”
“How often?”
“Not very often.”
“Then, how does he know you?” She was sounding bossy, and he didn’t mind. He was glad she wasn’t acting nervous as she had on their drive here.
Dheeraj smiled. “I own this restaurant.”
“What?”
“Geetanjali, I didn’t get to tell you much about myself last night, and I was hoping for us to get to know each other more over the next few days.”
“Why would I need to know about you if… if none of it is real.”
He leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “Are you saying you are agreeing to the proposal?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I need to know more about the proposal and not you,” she said, bluntly.
“Fair enough, but for the arrangement to appear real, it’s best if we get to know each other.”
She nodded. “Can we talk about the proposal first?”
“Yes.”
“When will I get the money?”
“At the end of contract… two years.” His tone was flat.
“What’s the guarantee you will pay me?”
“Geetanjali, you will be my wife, and you are legally entitled to fifty percent of my net worth. Trust me, it will work out better for me to pay you the agreed upon amount.”
She looked at him for a long moment. “What if I decide I want more than what you offered… what if I want what I am legally entitled to?”
Dheeraj looked into her eyes. “What I want out of this marriage is priceless and of the utmost importance to me. I wouldn’t put up a fight if that’s what you want.”
Anjali let out a gasp. “I don’t need your money. I only want what you agreed to pay me.”
“Good.”
“What if I need an advance for my expenses for the next two years?”
“Can’t give you an advance. It would have to be a lump sum amount that would be transferred to you when we file for the divorce. Any money I pay you before the end of the contract term will make it obvious that we are in some kind of an arrangement, and I don’t want anyone to find out about the deal.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought about how the whole arrangement would end until that moment.
“For your expenses, you will have a credit card, and you can spend as much as you’d like on that card for yourself. The amount you spend will not be deducted from your final settlement amount.”
“As much as I want? What if I buy a car with that card?”
“You can if that’s what you want. Although, you don’t get to keep the car when you leave.” Dheeraj smiled at the disbelief in her eyes.
“Do I have to move out of my apartment?”
“If the circumstances were different, I would have been fine to move into your apartment, but I need you to live in my home.”
“Okay. What if people find out this is not real?”
“I’m counting on you to make this look as real as possible.” His eyes were trained on her face and saw the apprehension pass through her eyes.
“What do I need to do to make it look real?”
“When in public, don’t oppose anything I do. I will be well within reason when it comes to public displays of affection, but it is required.”
“I don’t kiss strangers,” she blurted out.
He let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t either, but in this situation, you will need to let me hold your hand, hug you, and as required, kiss you.”
Anjali held his gaze but did not respond for a long moment. “Who knows about this arrangement?”
“No one.”
“How do you know… so many things about me? Like, my friends don’t even know my name is Geetanjali. It’s no longer my official name.”
He smirked. “In the eyes of my friends and family, I am in love. I saw you a few weeks ago, and I am trying to find out everything about you. A team of people worked on getting me all your information.”
“How long have you been…”
“Stalking you? Not long, just a few weeks ago.” He made the ordeal sound so trivial, but it made her very uncomfortable.
“What do you do? Who are you? I know nothing about you.”
“All you need to know is I am someone who will stick to the contract rules and respect you for wh
at you are about to do for yourself and me.”
She looked at him nodding in agreement. “Can I still work while married to you?”
“Trust me, you will be working and will not have time to take up another job.”
She scrunched her nose. “You have the wrong woman if you are looking for a wife who will be a socialite.”
“I know, and that’s not what I am looking for. I need you… someone who is caring and compassionate.”
“You know nothing about me, and if you decide I am not who you need to be for your fake wife, then what do we do?”
“If I break the contract and file for a divorce, you get your share of the money, but if you file for a divorce, I will put the best lawyers to work. You won’t be able to get out of contract, but if you did, there would be a big price to pay.”
Dheeraj’s tone was calm, but he saw the pangs of fear and anger flare in her making him wonder if his words would make her walk away from it all. He was glad when she nodded slowly.
“How do you own this restaurant?”
“I’m a partner because I am an investor, and I like to diversify my investments.”
“Do you have a family?”
“No one in this city.”
“Can I tell my friends about this?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Her voice was soft.
After moments of silence as he watched her lost in thoughts, he cleared his throat. “Are you ready to…”
She didn’t let him finish. “I don’t want a traditional Hindu wedding. That’s one thing I want… want with the man I will get married to for real if and when it happens.”
Dheeraj smiled at her. “I was going to ask if you are ready to order lunch, but I like what you said better. It doesn’t have to be a Hindu ceremony, but it needs to be a formal event followed by a reception for friends and family.”
“I want a church wedding. You can tell everyone that is what I’ve wanted since I was a little girl.” She shrugged.