“What happened?” Claire stared at her, spellbound.
“Well, then the yelling started. You know what Nadia is like when she screeches, and she was screeching at the top of her lungs. It went on for about five minutes and then there was a huge bang as she slammed the door against the wall and came flying out of the room. You would have died Claire!” Sally was laughing so loudly that she was drawing attention. “She was as bright red as that horrendous vampire lipstick she wears. Unfortunately, Maureen was the first one to fall into her war path; she timed it wrong and ended up right in front of the door when it slammed open. Nadia looked at her and screamed, ‘Did you have a part in this, you sorry slut?’”
“No!” Claire gasped, “What did Maureen say?”
“Well, you know Maureen: she just scurried off and disappeared. Nadia wasn’t done, though.”
“What did she do?”
“Oh, God, Claire,” she laughed. “She looked up and saw all those Bitch Clique girls looking at her and suddenly realized she wasn’t the boss, anymore. I could feel it, too. All those women who claimed to be her friends? You could see in their eyes that they were relieved! I think they looked around and realized for the first time that they weren’t the only ones pretending to like Nadia because they were afraid of her.”
“And?” Claire prompted.
Sally clapped her hands. “She went nuts. I swear she went completely off her rocker. She went up to each woman and said something terrible to her in this loud, stiff news announcer’s voice with a slight note of hysteria. ‘Pat,' she said, ‘you are officially the most unhygienic person in this office. Your greasy face makes me sick every time I look at it.’” Sally twitched her head spastically and crossed her eyes in an impression of Nadia’s collapse. “‘Alice, no one likes your dog. It’s slobbery and ugly and everyone wishes you would stop talking about it.’ She was making so much noise that HR came out of the office and told her to leave or they would call security.”
Claire knew that it was awful to feel pleasure at someone else’s pain, but she had to admit that this story was giving her tremendous satisfaction. Now she bounced in her chair. “Oh, God, Sally that is awful. Tell me what she said to everyone else. What did she say to you?”
“Oh, just the usual stuff I am used to hearing: all I care about is hooking a rich guy, no loyalty to my women friends, end up angry and alone, blah, blah, blah.”
Sally went quiet then and just stared at Claire. She could practically see the decision cycle cranking through her friend’s brain. She took a deep breath. “Okay,” Claire said, “she said something about me.”
Sally pulled Claire’s suitcase from under the table. “It’s total bullshit, Claire, so you don’t need to worry about it. I know what Satish did for you, so what she said…it just doesn’t add up.” She started picking at her sleeve, avoiding Claire’s lifted eyebrow stare.
“Hey,” Claire waved her hand in front of her friend’s face to get her attention. “Just tell me, Sal, is this part the bad news?”
She slowly nodded her head.
Claire felt her satisfaction dissolve. A premonition of doom descended on her as she processed Sally’s behavior; she knew her too well. She wanted to go home and crawl into bed—to stop her life for a few minutes. She needed a break to get her strength back, so she could deal with whatever Sally was about to drop on her.
All she wanted was Satish.
She hadn’t heard a peep from him since he had left her standing, confused and rejected, in the hotel lobby. Were they still friends? She would take that. She would never ask for another kiss again, if he would just call her before Sally told her whatever came next. If she could just hear his voice, she knew she would be able to breath properly again. Claire squeezed her eyes shut and willed her cell phone to ring. It didn’t.
“You okay?” Sally put her hand over Claire’s, which just reminded her of when Satish had done the same in Rio.
Tears seeped out from under her scrunched eyelids, but she reached up, wiped them, and took a deep breath. “Yep, I’m ready, Sal. Tell me the bad news.”
“Are you sure?” Sally asked. “You know, it was my original plan to get you home before we got into this.”
“Listen, I haven’t told you what happened when Satish and I went dancing. I’m just so confused right now that I am going to have to spend three days in bed to process this crap. You might as well give me everything, so I can process it all at once.”
“Okay, well,“ Claire hesitated again, “Satish was the one who got Nadia fired. That’s good news, right? I mean, he saved you in Rio, and then he arranged to have your arch enemy thwarted. How can you get more romantic than that? That’s what I meant when I said Satish must really like you, since everyone in the office is buzzing about it.” Sally tried to give her the Nadia-got-fired grin from the start of the conversation, but it wasn’t working on Claire.
She could see it was forced, so she asked the inevitable question. “How does everyone know that Satish was the one who got Nadia fired?”
“Ah, well, this is the part of the good news that doesn’t sound like good news. I don’t believe a word of it, though, and neither should you.”
“Sally, could you please just get it out. Please? I have a huge headache and I would like to go home.”
Sally squeezed Claire’s hand.
“Okay. After HR threatened to call security, Nadia stormed over to her desk to pack her stuff, but was still yelling out these horrible things about everyone, which I will absolutely tell you later. She looked over and saw me, then, and said all that usual stuff, but then she said, ‘your little slut friend, Claire, has moved on, huh? Sleeps with Nick to get a promotion and then sleeps with Satish to get me fired? You probably plotted this together. I saw the paperwork Satish submitted—he wouldn’t know that stuff about me, because he doesn’t keep up with office rumors.’” Sally stopped and shook her head, amazed. “I don’t know where he got the information, Claire, but the grapevine says that he exposed everything that is evil about Nadia. He reported every little deed she committed against company policy, and you know as well as I do that it would be a very long list.”
“Hang on,” Claire interrupted, “she’s right. How would Satish know all that stuff? He doesn’t do gossip or company drama—he’s not interested.”
“I have no clue, Claire.” Sally smiled a softer at her. “He sure as hell did his research for your sake, though. There was no option but to fire her after that list. Maureen has a friend in HR who told her that every item on the list was irrefutably proven. She said that there were dates, times, witnesses, and paperwork. Apparently people got calls at like 3:00 am last night so they could check facts and collect statements.”
“Who is ‘they,’ Sal?”
“No one will admit it, but I heard that Phil dude who works for Satish looked pretty beat this morning,” Sally said.
“So, what else did she say? Come on, I’m ready.”
“I think this is the bad news,” Sally said, “but don’t freak out. Nadia said, ‘if Claire thinks she is going anywhere else with Satish, she is highly mistaken. He’s married.’ She walked straight over to me and whispered in my ear, ‘I left Claire a little gift on her desk yesterday when I found out he had stayed in Rio. You might want to pass it on.’”
It was then that Claire noticed Sally had produced a thick, creamy envelope and placed it between them. Claire just stared at it.
“Now listen, doody-head,” Sally squeezed her hand, “there is absolutely no reason for you to look at this. Nadia is a horrible, vindictive woman, and who knows if this,” she gestured at the envelope, flicking her wrist with disgust, “whatever it is, is even real! Nadia was so pissed off when she heard that Satish had stayed in Rio with you that she would have done anything to make you feel like shit, including forgery.”
Claire picked up the envelope with trembling fingers. It was a personal letter addressed to Satish in scrawling script in heavy black ink—a fountain pen.
Her head was spinning. Satish was married? No, he wouldn’t do that to her. He would have told her, wouldn’t he? Claire’s brain whispered to her, Maybe he did. He told you he had something to take care of, didn’t he? He told you he could only be friends. Satish would never have kissed her if he was married, though—it would have been unacceptable to him. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he’d done that.
Suddenly, Claire flashed to the scene in the club post-kiss: the hurried, desperate apologies, the rush back to the hotel, and the almost complete dismissal of her as he ran off and didn’t speak to her again. She caught a sob in her throat as realization dawned. Now it all made sense. Now, in her memory, she could see the look on Satish’s face and interpret it correctly. It wasn’t dismissal; it was guilt.
“Oh my God, Sal,“ Claire swallowed the nausea rushing up to her throat. “Oh my God, he’s married!”
32
Satish
Satish waited until his father stormed off once again and smiled encouragingly at his little sister. Nandita was sitting, straight-backed and rebellious, on a plain, wooden chair in the middle of the living room. She looked like a prisoner of war under interrogation, and Satish was quite sure she felt that way, too. He sat opposite her on the couch, throwing small signs of support her way as often as he could. His father paced the small, stifling room like a fire-breathing dragon. You could almost see the steam rising from his bright red face, and sweat poured down his back and from under his armpits.
Satish was worried about his father. He was worried about Nandita. He was worried for his family. He had been here for two days and he now had a clear picture of how badly the situation had deteriorated. The world’s orbit spun fast under the feet of Nandita and her contemporaries, and so the cultural backbone of India was changing. His father was just one member of the generation trying to lasso the escalating orbit and drag on the rope to slow it down, but it didn’t seem to be working.
When he had arrived at the airport, his father had been waiting for him at the gate, and Satish had been stunned by his appearance. His tall, strapping father had become old. His jet-black, glossy hair was gone, replaced by streaks of gray. His eyes were sunken in a wrinkled, leathery face, and his skin looked pale. His height—his most imposing feature—was now hampered by a debilitating hunch in his back. The last time Satish had been in India five years prior at Priya’s wedding, his father had stood with him, shoulder to shoulder. Now, he could see the top of his father’s head as he moved forward to shake Satish’s hand. All the anger and resentment that he had been building toward him disintegrated in that single hand-shake. His father needed him, his only son. Satish had felt a wave of guilt and instantly put aside all his plans to disappoint him. He would help him—that was his duty.
Now, however, as Satish smiled softly at his beautiful, fiery sister, he realized things were not that simple. Over the past two days, the tenderness he’d felt toward his father in the airport and on the quiet drive back to the family home, had become corrupted with another less familiar feeling: disdain.
Nandita is difficult, he thought to himself, but she is also strong-willed, confident, intelligent, and so very brave. An image of Claire flashed in Satish’s mind, but he pushed it back into the lockbox holding his own thoughts, feelings, and desires inside. He was not important, now—this wasn’t the time. His sister was wonderful, though. She glowed with life and the joy of living it, and she had opinions, ideas, and clear goals. She was everything a good Indian daughter should not be, and worst of all, she was not afraid of their father.
Satish considered his relationship with Priya, Nandita’s older sister by six years. The truth was that he had no relationship with her. The last time they had spoken was at her wedding. She was quiet, shy, and deferred to him in everything, just as she did to their father. He looked across at his mother sitting at the kitchen table in the next room, staring worriedly at the scene before her. She was twisting the ends of her sari round and through her hands, as though she were washing it. These women could not understand Nandita at all.
His father halted in the middle of his fiery pacing and spun toward Satish. “My son,” he reached out and pointed directly at his chest, “you have not fulfilled your duty. I know that this worthless daughter of mine has been communicating with you, and you are filling her head with ridiculous Western ideas. You have been encouraging her to disobey her father.” “Father, I have been doing no such thing. I have been encouraging Nandita to honor her commitments,” Satish said. A voice in his head whispered, Even as you don’t honor your own.
His father swung violently back toward Nandita. “You will marry who we choose and follow our rules.” With that, he stormed into the kitchen and slammed the door behind him. Satish caught a fleeting glimpse of his mother rising slightly from the chair. She watched his father go, moved another inch toward standing, and then sat with a thump.
Satish sat on the narrow balcony of his family’s apartment. The heat was stifling, even with the fan that turned lazily overhead. Too hot to move—time for a nap. So far, he had accomplished nothing. A crying Nandita had locked herself in her room, his father had stormed from the apartment following the family meeting, and his mother was creeping around the house, trying to stay as small as possible, even while hovering over him to watch his every move. A few moments ago, she had quietly delivered a sweating water glass, which now dripped steadily onto his starched sleeve.
He was worried about Nandita, but he was also worried about his father’s health. Although the scene in the family room had rescued him from the tender feelings that had overwhelmed him at the airport, he still had compassion. He didn’t want his father to become ill due to grief and worry, and he didn’t want his mother left alone to care for him, or, God forbid, to live without him. The fact that he planned to break off his engagement made extracting Nandita all the more difficult. One blow, his Father could handle, but two? Plus, there was the fact that he still had no idea how he was going to extract Nandita. The more he thought about it, the more difficult it seemed.
There was only one thing he needed. He had been craving Claire with a genuinely physical need—a tightness in his chest—since his arrival. He needed to hear her voice, explain his plan to her, apologize for his behavior, and ask her advice. She would be able to help with Nandita. She was so intelligent, compassionate, and practical—she would understand. He needed Claire right this moment, and he needed Claire for the rest of his life.
The sliding glass door to the living room stuck on its tracks; Satish leaned into it to force it aside and went back to his room. He then picked up the phone with shaking hands and dialed Claire’s number. Just hearing the ring across the thousands of miles calmed him.
33
Claire
Claire and Sally stared at the phone as it rang insistently in her hand. It was midnight and they were bundled up together under a pile of unnecessary, but comforting blankets on her narrow bed.
“Answer it!” Sally hissed.
It was clear who was calling. The ID announced that the caller was “Unknown,” but who else called at this time? Claire held her phone in one hand and the letter in the other, each one burning into her palms like the heat from an open candle.
“I can’t,” moaned Claire. “I can’t talk to him right now. I need to get myself together. I need to open this letter.”
After Sally had given her the letter, they had wandered home along Washington Street, stopping for a take-out pizza and some cupcakes on the way. Sally had known they were in for a long night and would require supplies. They had been talking about the letter since they arrived home. Claire knew, without a doubt, that Satish had felt guilty when he kissed her, and the only explanation she could come up with for that guilt was that he was already married. The depth of despair she felt at the thought of him kissing another woman was swallowing her whole. She needed to put an end to the misery of the unknown and just open the letter, but the thought of endi
ng her dreams of a future with Satish was holding her back.
“I told you not to open that letter! Oh God, why did I even give it to you?” Sally wailed as she threw herself against the pillows in frustration. “Listen to me, Nadia is a bitch and a vengeful freak. How do we know she didn’t fake that letter? Please, Claire, answer the phone.”
“You’re right, Sal. I so need to speak to him.” Claire raised the phone toward her just as it stopped ringing. The silence was deafening, and she turned to her roommate with a look of total panic.
“Just call him back,” she reassured.
“Call him back? Call him back! It’s an unknown number, Sally. I don’t happen to have any freaking idea where he is, so how do you propose I call him back?” Claire tossed the phone across the room and it landed in a pile of fabric in the corner. Sally jumped up to grab it and turned to point it at her best friend like a weapon.
“Calm down, okay?” Her voice was shaking. Claire realized she was scaring her and took a deep, belly-filling breath, which promptly caused her to burst into tears. She dropped the letter to the floor and pulled the covers over her head as she sobbed. She couldn’t take it—she couldn’t take this feeling.
“Being in love totally sucks, Sally!” she yelled from under the covers. “I hate it, and I don’t know how you do it, and I just want everything to stop. I want this all to be over. I wish I had never met stupid Satish Bhatt. He sucks. Everything sucks.”
“That’s it!” There was steel in Sally’s voice, now. “Look at me.”
Claire pulled the covers down and swiped her arm across her eyes until she could see Sally standing in front of her. She was holding the letter. “We are not going to do this, anymore. You are not going to be the prisoner of stupid Nadia. We are going to open this letter, and we are going to find out that this whole thing has been a horrible misunderstanding. This will be a letter from his sister, or something, and then five minutes from now, Satish will call back and tell you where he is and why he had to leave so quickly. Love does not suck! It’s wonderful and amazing, and I just freaking discovered that, so I don’t need you sending me back to the land of pessimism.”
Unraveled (Jersey Girls Book 1) Page 15