FLAWLESS

by Leena Varghese

  After several attempts, Giana succeeded in calling home. Carol was angry that she hadn’t left in time. At least Toby was safe with her family, thought Giana gloomily. Her aunt’s house was in the mainland, away from the coastline. Her mother told her that she had locked up the cafe and dispersed the staff way back in the evening. She had been trying to call Giana to inform her about the hurricane all evening.

  Max came back with bottles of water and packets of biscuits and she let him squeeze in beside her. The wailing of children and the chattering of people in the background were rather soothing to her. At least they were not stranded alone. She felt Max’s cool hand touch hers in reassurance.

  “You are soaked, Max.”

  “Never mind!”

  “Thanks for the raincoat. My gown would never have survived!” She grimaced, rolling her eyes to convey the meaning.

  “Awkward!” he provided with a glint of humour in his eyes. The fine silk would never have withstood the wind and the lashing rain. Aside from the hemline dripping wet, she was comfortably dry inside the raincoat. “Did you call home? How’s the weather inside the Francois household?”

  Giana gave a tired chuckle. “There’s always a hurricane blowing there!”

  Max grinned at that, raised a hand to smooth away a clump of wet curls from her cheek. The intimacy of that gesture brought her back to the present. He was squeezed in so close to her that his thigh brushed hers and his arm was around her shoulders.

  Giana’s heart did a cartwheel every time she looked at him. His rain drenched hair was slicked back and his clothes were damp, delineating the muscled broad shoulders and chest. All around them, chaos prevailed but all she could think was how the world had narrowed down to the couch on which they were sitting with strangers jostling for space on either side of them. She was so close to him that she was practically melting just inhaling that scent, an intoxicating mix of cologne and raindrops and virile masculinity.

  Max noted the beautiful eyes roam over him lovingly, making his body clench in a burst of sudden desire.

  “Are you hungry?” He tried to change the subject but the words only enhanced the moment. He was afraid that his voice would reveal what he felt for her.

  “A little.” Giana cleared her throat to break the tension searing the tiny space between them.

  He had to get off the couch and find something to eat. The devouring hunger he felt had nothing to do with food though. He was in imminent danger of being consumed by it. She was so beautiful in spite of the drab grey raincoat that covered her from head to heels. Those luscious lips and damp cheeks where the silken curls clung lovingly without need of permission could play havoc with a man’s will to remain celibate. He longed to kiss her...just once.

  He rose abruptly from the couch, schooling his rampant reaction. “I’ll get some coffee.”

  Giana’s eyes followed his receding figure. Outside the windows, it had turned pitch dark except for the lightning flashes that lit up the twisted trees and the huge waves in the hurricane-tossed sea. People were talking in hushed tones. The noise of the wind on the sealed glass windows was eerie. Some of the children had fallen asleep. It was past midnight. According to some sources, the hurricane had intensified in the coastal areas, making it impossible to travel. There were multiple warnings from all authorities.

  Max returned with steaming coffee in paper cups and handed her one. His eyes strayed to the windows where people were discussing the weather forecast. He was wondering how to break the bad news to her.

  “I had a chat with the hotel staff,” he said, sitting down beside her once again. “They say that we could very well be stuck here for the night.”

  Giana turned troubled eyes to him. “What do you think we should do? We don’t even have transport!”

  “No one’s going anywhere until the hurricane has passed. It is dangerous as we have already seen. If it is all right with you, we could spend the night here. A lot of people are planning to stay. The hotel has four floors above with a few vacant rooms. Before all the people here fill up the rooms, let’s get one.”

  She looked at the people milling around the reception. The people with kids were asking for double beds. Max was right. It seemed like a sensible idea. They had nowhere to go. She turned to Max who was wiping his face with a paper napkin. His clothes were damp and he must be really uncomfortable, she thought. Not that they could get a change of clothing! But at least they would get some food and a safe place to spend the night.

  “Let’s stay,” Giana conceded with trouble writ all over her face.

  Max threw his crumpled cup into the dustbin in the corner and strode away quickly towards the burgeoning crowd at the reception. Giana tried to call home but the signal had all but disappeared. She sipped her coffee, worrying about endless disaster scenarios.

  Seven

  It took Max another forty minutes to get to the front of the line at the reception. By that time, the best rooms had been taken. Those who could not afford to stay were offered the lounge and the dining hall. The hotel was doing brisk business by all accounts, thought Max, signing the register. He went back to where Giana stood watching the children being put to sleep on the floor on newspapers.

  The elevators were not working. Half the hotel was plunged in darkness except a few emergency lights on the stairs. They were shown the way by the bellhop to the top floor.

  She stopped at the doorway as Max followed the bellhop into the single bedroom overlooking the sea. The wide grilled windows would have provided a fantastic view on a sunny day. She stepped in slowly, suddenly aware of the cramped space with Max’s masculine frame filling the area between the window and the bed. Her awkwardness grew as the hotel staff left them with instructions on not running the geyser as the generators were already overloaded.

  Max placed a quick order for hot chicken soup and toasted sandwiches, the only thing available at that time of the night. Giana was looking at him as though he was going to leap upon her. Maybe he would if he didn’t give himself a cold shower soon! He was sure that his drenched shirt was steaming with the lava bubbling in his blood.

  “Well, at least we got the room with a view!” he said lightly.

  Giana barely smiled.

  He couldn’t bear the trepidation on her face. “Relax, Giana. Now that we are here, let’s just have food, take that much needed shower and get some sleep.”

  Evidently, it was the wrong thing to say. His words sent her eyes skittering to the single cot right next to the mirror fixed on the wall. She gripped her handbag tighter, her other hand stuffed inside the raincoat pocket as she stood dithering and vulnerable.

  “Giana?”

  She shook her head, wondering what was happening to her. “Toby has never been without me.”

  “They were fine when you called them an hour ago. Why don’t we eat something first? Then we can try calling them again. There is nothing else that we can do right now.” He smiled at her in encouragement. He knew what she was thinking. “You can take the bed. I won’t be sleeping much. I will have to keep track of the weather anyway. Get some sleep. You have been working all day.”

  She nodded, relieved, disappointed, soothed and craving for a world of things that she was not allowed to have. She loved him. No wonder she loved him so much. He seemed to look into her and know how she felt.

  Max turned away from the adoring look on her face. He wanted to hold her so badly that his heart ached and his arms felt empty. He pretended to check the intercom. The TV was useless; the cable network was down. There was nothing to keep him distracted from noticing Giana behind him, stripping away the raincoat and letting down her hair. He was nailed to the ground, his eyes riveted to the image in the mirror as she moved about placing her bag on the chair and checking her phone once more. She kicked off her heels and curled a hand on the jug of water and drank some thirstily.

  He was in trouble. And he didn’t know how to stop himself from flinging himself at her feet and begging her to allow h
im to make love to her like a demented lover. It hit him hard that he hadn’t felt like that with any woman he had known. Not even with Eva. The thought was sobering and plunged him into a black mood. With Eva it had been a part of the marriage deal. They had been completely faithful to each other. It had been a sound marriage, a structured life...until...

  “Mamma...” It was Giana standing next to the window, trying to catch the elusive signal. “Hello...?” She looked at the phone again to see the signal dipping below the mark. The phone rang and it was her mother.

  For the next few minutes, through a breaking signal, Giana tried to explain why she had to stay at a hotel overnight. When the call ended she looked deflated. Fortunately, Annabel had kept her word and not told Carol that Max had accompanied Giana.

  The knock on the door indicated the arrival of food. The trays were placed on the narrow table between the couch and the single chair in the room.

  “Seems like instant soup to me,” said Max, tasting the pale liquid from the bowl. It distracted her from her gloomy introspection as he had intended. He held out the steaming bowl and the spoon. “Eat first, worry later. You need to keep up your strength for the Francois hurricane tomorrow,” he quipped with an irreverent grin.

  Giana looked at him, her smile mellow. She knew what he was doing. This man who always knew what to say and do. “Max...” she said, softly. “Thank you for everything. I would have never been able to finish the contract on schedule today. I might have got stuck in this town alone. Thanks for...all this...” she said, sweeping her hands in a helpless gesture indicating the room.

  Max felt like his heart was being squeezed. She was thanking him and all he wanted was to kiss her. Kiss her senseless so that she forgot about the world and everything sad or lonely...Kiss her until they both became whole again.

  “You can pay me back after we reach home!” he said, chuckling, to dispel the desire that was raging through his body unchecked.

  Her eyes grew bigger at his words. “I will give you anything you want,” The words were out before she could stop herself.

  He paused and looked at her, his chocolate eyes burning with such intensity that she couldn’t move or breathe. “I will remember that,” he promised softly, taking a sip of the hot soup. “For starters, you can make me some better soup than this useless, boiled pap! I would give anything for your cooking at this moment.”

  Giana nodded with a smile. They finished eating in silence, each aware of the thrum of emotions between them. It was perhaps more potent than the hurricane brewing outside. She avoided the bed studiously as she rummaged through her handbag for the things she needed.

  Max’s phone rang unexpectedly and Giana heard him speak to someone in clipped tones, explaining that he was all right. She realized that he was talking to his parents. She turned away abruptly giving him that private moment and went to shower. When she came out, she found him shrouded in a black mood, staring out of the window.

  “Max, you should shower before the lights go out,” said Giana.

  His clothes were now partially dry. Max toed his shoes off and began to undo his shirt buttons. He paused when he noticed how skittish she became as she moved to the mirror self-consciously to brush her hair. He strode quietly to the bathroom and shut the door.

  When Max emerged from the shower he was in a better frame of mind. The call from his parents had shaken him, reminding him of all that he was running away from. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and sat next to Giana who had her eyes glued to the window.

  “There is no signal,” she said, gloomily.

  “Try my phone.”

  The call didn’t go through. “Anyway, I don’t think my mother would appreciate my calling from your phone. She doesn’t know that I am with you.”

  Max grinned at that. “Ah...she might want to ride the hurricane to come here and club me to death just for having soup with you.”

  Giana broke into chuckles at that though her eyes remained shadowed.

  “Don’t worry! They know that you are safe and you know that they are safe.”

  He shifted closer on the couch and suddenly she was bereft of words. The air became thick with unsaid thoughts. Charged moments passed without either of them speaking.

  “You should sleep,” Max broke the spell.

  She hesitated and shook her head. “I’ll wait for some time until I can make a call home.”

  “All right...So, let’s talk.”

  Giana looked at him with a smile.

  “Tell me about this specimen you decorated with juice at the wedding,” probed Max, finally broaching the subject. “I still remember Benjamin hopping mad because he was served hot tea in a similar manner. It seems to be a habit of yours to douse your enemies with your drink.”

  She had been expecting the question, and was glad that Max had given her the time to pull herself together before asking the obvious thing that had been hanging between them since the ugly scene with Ricky.

  “That was Ricky Bartholomew, my ex-husband.”

  It was Max’s turn to stiffen. “Why was he manhandling you?”

  Giana was quiet. Her whole life played like a shabby movie before her eyes.

  Max shifted closer, though in a non-threatening way. He took her hand, sorely tempted to gather her close to him, afraid that she would shy away. “You must have been very young when you married him,” he offered the opening she needed.

  “I was nineteen when I met him! And...” she grimaced distastefully.

  “Crazily in love,” finished Max for her, without sounding judgemental.

  “And infinitely stupid!” she added in derision, grateful to Max for the way he put it.

  “What happened?” he probed again, reluctantly letting go of her hand when she pulled away.

  She started slowly as if the words could not describe the story that she had tried to forget for the past three years. “I used to sing for his band in my first year of college.”

  “So, the beautiful Giana is a talented singer as well,” murmured Max, adding one more star to her repertoire.

  “It was a hobby I dearly cherished,” she said, shrugging dismissively. “We fell in love, or so I thought at that time. He is from a wealthy family and my parents had very orthodox views on the subject. We dated for a year without any progress in the relationship and I insisted on marriage. He finally proposed, reluctantly, as I learned today. We decided to elope to Goa. His friends procured a licence and arranged for the registrar and we got married.”

  He waited for her to speak. She appeared disturbed as though the still waters were churning.

  “Giana?”

  She seemed startled, darting him an apprehensive look.

  “You might change your mind about me after you hear the story. I am not the good girl you think I am.”

  Max gave his beautiful lopsided smile. “Good or bad is subjective to an individual’s opinions. Try me!”

  She sat stiff, bracing herself from her own words that came in a rush tumbling over each other. “We had a wedding gig in Goa. We got married in court the day the band was given hotel accommodation to stay over for the client’s morning wedding. All of us went out to have a fun night after the client’s pre wedding party that night. Ricky was in high spirits and so was I! I thought it was love though it was more of liquor that was pushing us. We roamed the beaches and danced at an impromptu party and reached the hotel roaring drunk. I had tasted champagne for the first time in my life. I felt free. Our...first time together that night was...clumsy and disappointing. When I woke up, I found myself alone in the hotel room. Ricky had disappeared. His band members were perplexed too. I was worried sick that something had happened to him. Needless to say, we were thrown out of the client’s wedding plans.”

  She paused and then continued in a stilted tone, “By mid-morning we found him sleeping in another woman’s bed in the same hotel, too drunk to remember that he had a wife!”

  This time a curse did leave his tongue as Max
swore richly, fisting his hand.

  “No Max!” She shook her head sadly. “It was my fault!”

  “Is that what they made you believe?” he asked.

  “I was irresponsible!”

  “And so was he! Marriage was a joint decision. He was supposed to take care of you, not jilt you on the wedding night!” Max grittily pointed out.

  Giana sighed at the memory of the day she had spent in utter shock, bewilderment, and terrible crying bouts as they had prepared to leave the hotel. The thought of having to go back home alone had been terrifying.

  “So, did you go back home and announce your marriage?”

  “He ran away from Goa.”

  “He let you take on the onslaught alone?”

  She lowered her head in shame. “When I reached back home there was such uproar! I went to Ricky’s place to look for him and his parents rejected my claim outright, refusing to acknowledge me in spite of the copies of the marriage certificate. Three weeks later I found that I was pregnant. My mother nearly threw me out.” She swallowed a sob. “I went to my husband’s home again a month later to find that he was happily living there without contacting me. He refused to accept me or the baby. I couldn’t bear the humiliation. When I tried to talk to him again, I was told that he was out of town. That’s when everything fell apart.”

  “Was there no one who could drive some sense into your stupid husband’s head?” snapped Max.

  Giana looked down at her hand digging into the sofa. Her thoughts were flooded with ugly memories of the terrible battle between the parents of the runaway bride and the groom, who blamed each other for the fiasco. And Michael...her bright superstar...dead in the resulting violence that tore their family apart and shook the little community.

  “Yes. Michael came back for a weekend from the medical college in Chennai where he was studying. Enraged at seeing his little sister jilted, he went up to the Bartholomew house and threatened them with arrest.”