by Shilpa Suraj
“Hey. How’s it going?” Nisha’s greeting was almost drowned out by a cacophony of noise at her end.
Wincing, Alisha held the phone away from her ear. “Do you have a gaggle of geese trying to kill each other over there?”
“Those are my nephews and nieces who are over for the weekend. And yes, they are trying to kill each other. Hold on, I’m making my way to the other room.”
Once the noise level subsided, Alisha tried making conversation again. “Aren’t you getting ready to go to the nightclub?”
“I’m ready. I’m just stalling for a bit so that I can reach around the same time as you.”
“You’re stalling because you don’t want to be stuck with King Kong alone,” Alisha accused.
“That’s not true. I invited him so I’m sure I will spend some portion of the evening talking to him. I just don’t want to be there too early.” Trying to change the subject, she continued, “How is the dinner going?”
“It’s agonizing. They’re not talking directly to each other. I came out to make this phone call, so they’d be stuck with making conversation that didn’t include me chipping in.”
“How long are you going to skulk around outside?”
“I’m not skulking. More like discreetly standing in a corner.” Alisha sighed and looked at her watch. “I’ve been gone almost ten minutes. I should go back in. See you later.”
“Yup. See you then. Is the brother coming?”
“Whose brother?”
“The hottie brother of the groom to be. Don’t act like a dunce.”
“I don’t know. He couldn’t make it for the dinner portion of the evening. I can only hope my luck holds.”
“Your luck sucks.” Hearing his voice in her ear had her brain freezing for a second.
Mortified, Alisha cut Nisha off midsentence and turned to see Vivaan standing right behind her. In jeans and a t-shirt that proclaimed ‘I would give up drinking but I’m not a quitter,’ he looked his normal annoying self.
That is, if you could ignore the lines of exhaustion etched into his face. If you couldn’t, then he just looked tired.
“Hasn’t anyone taught you that it’s rude to eavesdrop?” The tart question slipped out before she could stop herself.
“Sweetheart, the people in the boutique next door could have heard you. You weren’t exactly whispering.” Apparently being tart wasn’t a female prerogative.
When she didn’t respond immediately, he reached out and opened the door leading into the restaurant. Gesturing for her to precede him, he said, “Shall we go see how the couple is doing?”
Striding in ahead of him, Alisha was relieved to see that Arav and Pooja were in the middle of an animated conversation. In the flurry of greetings, she settled herself in her seat and buried her head in the menu under the guise of ordering the main course.
By the time she risked looking up, Vivaan was busy quizzing Pooja on her job. Turning to Arav, she tried to ignore the extremely large annoyance seated on her right for the rest of the meal.
---xxx---
Walking into the lounge bar later that night, Alisha tried to spot her friends in the crowd. Finally locating them at a table in the corner, she made her way over with the other three trailing behind her.
Making the introductions, she settled herself into a corner putting as much space as she could between Vivaan and her. Luckily, Arav and Pooja seemed to be finally comfortable with each other and she didn’t have to run interference there anymore.
From her vantage point, she watched Natasha edge closer to Vivaan and drape herself strategically to get his attention. Looking in the opposite direction, she tried making conversation with the other people sitting close to her.
Sagar had brought a girl, Priya, who stayed in the same building as him. She looked extremely uncomfortable stuck between Venkat’s angry girlfriend and Sagar who seemed to be more than a few drinks down.
Ignoring Venkat’s perennially angry girlfriend, she tried talking to Priya. When the music drowned out most of the conversation, she gave up trying to yell across Sagar.
Looking around the room, she saw Natasha practically climbing into Vivaan’s lap. Watching them chuckle and laugh at whatever Natasha was saying had her shifting restlessly in her seat. Feeling uncomfortably like the party Grinch, she turned to make an extra effort with Venkat’s girlfriend, Lakshmi.
Forcing a smile to her face, she asked, “How was your day at work?”
“Fine.”
“Did you guys reach here a long time back?”
“Yes.”
Floundering for another topic of conversation, she tried again. “I really like the top you’re wearing. It’s a lovely shade of yellow.”
“I know I look fat in it. You don’t have to patronize me. Not everyone can have your figure.” Lakshmi snapped before picking up her Long Island Iced Tea and taking a large gulp of it.
The rudeness didn’t surprise her. Lakshmi didn’t seem to have queued up when God was adding charm to people’s qualities.
Giving up on making polite conversation, Alisha scanned the room quickly. Nisha hadn’t reached as yet and thankfully, there was no sign of King Kong.
Spotting Arav and Pooja standing a little further away with their heads together, she reassured herself that they were fine before picking up her handbag and making her way outside.
Heaving a relieved sigh when the cool air hit her, she made way for a group of partygoers. Ignoring the ribald catcalls from the men in the group, she found a quieter corner near the railing and sat down.
She closed her eyes and let the nippy breeze cool her flushed cheeks. This moment of solitude in the middle of all the chaos felt like heaven.
“Private moment? Or can I interrupt?”
Resigned to her fate, Alisha looked up. “Are you stalking me?”
“No.” Sitting down next to her and stretching his long legs out, Vivaan laced his hands on his stomach. “It was getting a little stifling in there, so I thought I’d come out for fresh air. I saw you sitting here alone and figured I’d see if you wanted some company.”
“Terrible,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.
“What?”
“Your excuse for being out here is terrible. If I wanted company, I would have stayed in there. And the only thing stifling you in there were the women throwing themselves at you.”
Grinning, he pointed out, “You weren’t.”
Tossing her hair, she said, “I have taste.”
“Ouch.” Wincing, he straightened from his slouch. “That hurt. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from that.”
“Oh please. Go in there and let one of those girls slobber all over you. You’ll be fine in minutes.”
“All those tasteless girls in there? No thanks. I think I prefer the discerning one out here.” Reaching out to touch a lock of her hair he twined it around his fingers and watched her reaction.
“Cut it out.” Slapping at his hand, Alisha stood up. “You shouldn’t be flirting with me.”
Rising with her, he faced her. “Why?”
“Because I don’t cradle snatch and I certainly don’t intend to start with my younger cousin’s brother in law.”
She tried for both their family’s sakes to take the sting out of her words but knew she’d failed when she saw the expression on his face.
“How old do you think I am?”
Alisha sighed, “Do we have to do this?”
“I’m trying to understand,” Vivaan said. “The age thing matters so much?”
Alisha stared past him to the crowd now leaving the bar and yelling out goodbyes to each other. Drunk, happy and carefree. She felt every inch of her exhausting thirty three years at that moment.
“For the record, I’m twenty nine years old.” His low murmur had her closing her eyes. Twenty nine. Shit.
“I don’t think we should be having this conversation,” she said, starting to walk past him to the foyer.
Vivaan caught her ha
nd as she crossed him and yanked her back, his grip firm and compelling. “Answer me. My age matters so much?”
“Yes,” she said, finally.
“Why? Does it make that much of a difference to who I am?”
“Why? What do you mean why? I’m older than you and divorced to add to that. You need any more reasons?” Giving her hand a slight tug, she groaned when his grasp only tightened. “Let go of my hand.”
“Does being older and divorced mean you can’t be friends with me?”
“It means I can’t stand around holding hands with you.” Staring pointedly at their hands until he released hers, she stepped back and started to move away.
“What makes you think any of it matters to me?” His question had her stopping in her tracks and turning to look at him. “I don’t care, Alisha. I like you.”
“It doesn’t make a difference if none of it matters to you. All of it matters to me.” This time when she made her way into the crowd, she didn’t look back.
---xxx---
Chapter 8
“Vivaan, where are you going?”
Bemused, Vivaan turned to face his mother. “To the hospital. Like I do, every morning.”
“Can you come home for lunch?”
“Why?” he asked, warily.
“We’ve invited Pooja and her family to lunch, and I’d like you to be there.”
“Why?” he asked, again. His brother was the one looking for a bride. Why was he getting stuck with being a part of this whole manic mess?
“Because I said so,” his mother snapped.
Vivaan groaned and closed his eyes. He wanted no part of this upcoming lunch. He wanted no part of the potential bride and her family. Even as he thought it, he thought of her. A flash of big doe eyes, long silky black hair, a slow, careful smile and madness inducing curves had him snapping his eyes open.
Alisha. He exhaled, his mind still stuck on last night. On her. On the flashes of raw, vibrant emotion stuck behind layers of frost. Fire and Ice.
She was as stunning as she was complicated. It wasn’t just her beauty queen looks that had him fascinated. It was her dry wit, the sarcastic rejoinders, the contrasting warmth and affection she showed her family and friends. All of it intrigued him. She was like a fascinating mystery box he wanted to spend days figuring out.
He scrubbed at his eyes in the vain hope that it would remove the image of her imprinted in his brain. But all he could see was her arguing with him, eyes flashing, all that glorious hair flying in the breeze, her hand held firmly in his.
All of it matters to me.
The words wouldn’t get out of his head. For God’s sake, she was one woman. Hot as hell but not worth all this annoying stress and self judgement. She wasn’t interested in him and he wasn’t interested in the hassle she represented.
“Vivaan.” His mother was still saying something in the background. “I’m talking to you.”
“I can’t come for lunch,” he snapped back, his temper fraying. He wanted to work. He wanted to spend his day with his patients and his colleagues. He didn’t want to spend it with an irritatingly beautiful woman who thought he was beneath her.
An overachieving nerd all his life, he’d gotten double promotions, skipped entire grades and sailed through his medical exams. Pretty Boy. Class Baby. The monikers had followed him through all his years of studies and for a while, even through his professional practice. And it had never bothered him much.
Until now. Until he’d knocked on a door and she’d opened it. And she’d basically called him the same thing.
And back to her. What was wrong with his brain? Why did it keep getting stuck on her?
“Vivaan.” His mother’s impatient voice cut through his thoughts. “Please come home for lunch? Arav needs your support.”
Arav needed to get his head on straight. This idiotic arranged marriage spree he was on was going to end in nothing but disaster. Arav knew exactly what he needed and it wasn’t a much younger manic little pixie. It wasn’t Pooja.
But Vivaan couldn’t tell his mother that. Instead, he sighed and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
---***---
“Alisha.”
Grumbling into her pillow, Alisha pulled the comforter over her head and ignored her mother’s urging hand.
“Wake up right now. You should have been awake a long time ago.” With one last smack on her shoulder, her mother went to her cupboard and started going through its contents.
Pulling the comforter down enough for one eye to track her mother’s progress, she watched her pull out a red salwar kameez and drape it over the chair in the corner.
“What are you doing?” she mumbled before giving up on the idea of more sleep and emerging from under the comforter. Obviously, something big enough to merit a dressy salwar kameez was in the works.
“You’re going to wear this today for the lunch at Arav’s house.”
“There is a lunch at Arav’s house today? When did this happen?” Reaching for the cup of tea her mother had placed on the bedside table, Alisha took a cautious sip and leaned back.
“They called and invited all of us this morning.” Sitting down on the bed next to her, her mother settled in for some girl chat. “How did it go between Pooja and Arav last night?”
“I think it went well. After the initial awkwardness, they spent a lot of time talking. Have you all spoken to Pooja this morning?”
“Yes. But she won’t say much. The only thing she keeps saying is that she needs more time to decide.”
Rolling her eyes, Alisha put her empty cup back on the bedside table. “Obviously, Ma. She can’t decide to marry someone in the space of one evening. And, I can’t come for the lunch at their house.”
She didn’t need more aggravation from a caramel eyed temptation that wasn’t for her. Would never be for her, she reminded herself.
“You’re not coming for the lunch?” The squeal of outrage from the door had them both looking up. Pooja barreled into the room followed by her mother.
Making room for everyone to settle onto the bed more comfortably, Alisha passed some pillows around. Luckily, she always slept with a mound of pillows surrounding her or it wouldn’t have sufficed for this invading army.
“Why aren’t you coming for lunch?” Giving her arm a hard whack, Pooja scowled.
“Ouch.” Pointedly rubbing her arm, she said, “I already made plans to meet an old school friend for lunch.”
“So? Cancel the plan.”
Ignoring the inherently selfish question and deciding to act instead on the meaningful looks both the mothers were leveling at her, Alisha obediently asked, “So what do you think of Arav so far?”
“He seems nice. He was fun to talk to last night.” Spying the red salwar kameez draped on the chair, her eyes lit up. “That’s gorgeous. Where did you get it? Can I get a similar one stitched? Also, can I wear that for lunch today?”
The rapid-fire questions were typical of Pooja. Ignoring the others, Alisha answered only the last one. Stifling a yawn, she shrugged. “Sure.”
“Why don’t you ask your friend to meet you for an early lunch? Then you can join us later. I’m sure we’ll be there for a long time.” Lavanya, her aunt, looked at her, the plea in her eyes making it hard for Alisha to stick to her resolve of not attending an event that included Vivaan.
Smiling over at her aunt, she conceded, “Okay. I’ll ask Nishant to meet me around twelve. I’m sure I can wrap up early and then come over. I’ll coordinate with you all.”
Giving her foot an approving squeeze, her mother stood. “What will you wear if Pooja is going to wear the red salwar kameez?”
“Was Alisha going to wear that? Pooja, give that back! You can wear something else,” her aunt said.
Watching Pooja’s face set mutinously, Alisha hastily intervened. “It’s okay, Maasi. I’ll wear something else. If I turn up for lunch with Nishant in a salwar kameez, he’ll think I’m trying to get him to marry me. Pooja, there are
other salwars in the cupboard also. Take your pick.”
“I like this one.” Stroking the zardozi work on the bodice of the salwar, Pooja held it closer, pointedly ignoring her mother’s glare.
“I should call Nishant and rearrange things. Ma, I’ll come down in a minute.” Hoping they’d take the hint, Alisha stood up and walked over to her laptop bag to rummage for her mobile.
“Thanks, Alishakka.” Still avoiding eye contact with her mother, Pooja exited the room with the salwar kameez tightly clutched to her chest.
Alisha watched her aunt subside with a sigh on to the bed. Apparently, she wasn’t going to escape this so easily.
“I wonder…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at the door.
After a second, she asked, “Are we making a big mistake? Do you think she’s too immature for marriage?” Pooja’s mother looked at the two of them, her confusion and unhappiness written all over her face.
Exchanging looks with her mother, Alisha kept her mouth shut while letting her mother placate and soothe.
“She is a little immature, but this is such a good offer. How can you not see where it goes?” Alisha’s mother asked. “It would be foolish to let a boy like Arav slip through our fingers.”
It was almost like they were talking about going fishing, Alisha reflected. But then the marriage market was all about that, wasn’t it? Hooking the biggest fish in the ocean or the river or whatever the damn fools were swimming in.
“Alisha, what do you think?” Decimating her plan to stay out of it, her aunt looked at her for her opinion.
Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Sometimes, people are never fully prepared for things like marriage or having a baby. Maybe it’s something you just get into and then figure your way around it.”
And sometimes, people were never ready for marriage and should never marry. But that thought she kept to herself.
Thankful that her aunt seemed satisfied with the answer she’d managed to come up with, she scanned her phone for Nishant’s number.
There wasn’t any point in telling her aunt that she did think they were making a big mistake. Pooja wasn’t anywhere near mature enough to handle a marriage. But neither was her aunt ready to listen to that. Her mother’s comforting words were what she wanted and needed right now.