‘I can look for another hotel close by,’ her tone was firm and defiant.
He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her. But he was sure such a thing would be frowned upon. ‘Listen to me, Pakhi Mehra. You don’t have a choice here. Just get into the bloody lift.’
If somebody would have come and told him that Pakhi was going to get even angrier with him in about five seconds, he wouldn’t have believed them. But apparently, she could. Because five seconds later, a small innocent voice muttered, ‘Luddy lift.’
Crap!
Pakhi’s eyes flashed murder as she marched into the lift.
‘Daji, c’mon,’ Abhimanyu was almost at his wits’ end. ‘I’ve told you a gazillion times. I’m not interested.’ Running his fingers through his hair, he sent out a silent prayer to whichever god was listening.
‘No, I am not gay,’ he muttered through gritted teeth just as Pakhi walked out of her bedroom, showered and looking fresh. For a second, their eyes met before she turned her attention to Abhithi who was watching a cartoon on TV. Her floral perfume wafted through to the balcony, momentarily distracting him from trying to explain to his grandfather why he was not interested in marrying some friend’s wife’s sister’s grand-niece.
‘For the last time, old man, I am not interested in marriage. I am not gay. Now eat your lunch, and please go to sleep for a while.’ He cut the call and slammed the mobile phone onto the wooden table. This was the fifth time in six months Daji had found ‘a good girl from a good family’ for him. All five times Abhimanyu had turned his grandfather down. But he knew Daji was not one to back down. He’d become more and more persistent since Abhimanyu had crossed forty. He was sure that in another two weeks, there would be another proposal waiting to be rejected by him.
Walking back into the living room, he found Pakhi had dozed off on the sofa next to Abhithi. She was wearing a long cream kurta and fuchsia pink pants, her feet bare. Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had already made a damp stain on the beige sofa. She wore gold hoops with green stone drops. Her nose stud had been replaced by a gold nose ring. Her cheeks were flushed, but that was just how her complexion was. He knew she seldom wore makeup.
He had this sudden urge to run his fingers through her long damp hair and settle his mouth on hers. It had been too long since he had kissed her.
Realizing Abhithi was in the room and that Pakhi still may be mad at him for teaching her niece yet another swear word, Abhimanyu decided he would have to wait a little while longer before he could kiss her smart mouth.
Looking at his watch, he saw that it was nearly 12.30 p.m. and ordered room service for the three of them. He then sat down on the single armchair next to Abhithi and caught up on some Tom and Jerry.
Pakhi woke up to Abhithi’s laughter. She sat up straight, quickly taking in her surroundings. Remembering that she was in a hotel suite with Abhimanyu, she scanned the living room for him. But he wasn’t there and nor was Abhithi. A quick look at her watch told her it was close to 1 p.m. Straightening her clothes and messy hair, she went in search of them.
She found them in Abhimanyu’s room, on the bed, watching Tom and Jerry. Apparently there was no age limit to enjoy these cartoons, she thought to herself, just as Abhimanyu threw his head back and laughed loudly. Beside him, almost snuggling up to him, her little niece was cackling away. When their fits of laughter subsided, they both saw her standing in the doorway nearly at once.
‘Ooaa!’
‘Pakhi!’
She couldn’t help but smile as the two of them looked at her, their eyes twinkling with laughter.
‘Hi, you two,’ she said, as she walked into the bedroom. They were huddled up under the cream duvet. Pakhi perched herself on the edge of the bed, careful not to make any contact with Abhimanyu, who looked absolutely adorable in a white shirt, with its top three buttons undone. His hair was tied in a low ponytail. It took an immense amount of self control not to graze her fingers through his beard and press her mouth to his.
‘Did we disturb you?’ Abhimanyu’s voice broke her mid-morning erotic dream.
She felt her cheeks burn as she quickly said, ‘No, no.’
‘Good,’ was all he said before he turned his attention back to the cartoon.
She got up and turned to leave the room, but Abhimanyu suddenly caught hold of her wrist and yanked her towards him. She fell on top of him.
‘What are you doing?’ she whispered, frantically looking at Abhithi only to see the little girl completely engrossed in the cartoon.
She straightened up and shot Abhimanyu a look that should have had him cowering under his blanket. But the man was incorrigible. He simply winked at her and when he saw her face redden, he planted a light kiss on her cheek.
‘Abhimanyu!’ she breathed, her eyes issuing a warning to him.
‘Yes?’ he asked with an innocent expression on his face. But his eyes were dancing with mischief.
‘Oh for God’s sake,’ she muttered under her breath as she stood up and set her clothes right.
Abhimanyu smirked as Pakhi finger-combed her hair and checked herself in the mirror. When she turned to face him again, he winked at her again and her face turned the same pink colour of her pants.
Muttering how incorrigible he is under her breath, she hurried out of the room.
Lunch was a simple affair. Pakhi was grateful that Abhimanyu had ordered vegetable soup and pulao for Abhithi. She had not yet started the little girl on meat.
‘I was not sure if Abhithi ate meat, so I ordered this,’ Abhimanyu gestured towards the food laid out on the table.
‘Thank you,’ Pakhi smiled, and proceeded to put a small amount of pulao onto Abhithi’s plate.
Abhimanyu watched as she fed the little girl, carefully wiping the corners of her mouth with tissue instead of a napkin. It was probably to ensure that the cloth did not scrape at the scar. It had all but dried up, but he couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of pain Abhithi had endured. Now, though, she seemed as bubbly and full of life as any child her age should be. He knew there were difficult days. He’d seen Pakhi walk in to work a few times looking fatigued. He’d even asked her once if everything was OK, but she had waved him off saying she had been up looking at recipes on the Internet.
But Abhimanyu knew that Pakhi had probably spent a sleepless night trying to care for a little girl whose nightmares refused to go away. There had been nights when he had run into his grandfather’s room because he’d dreamed he was drowning. The old man would then stay up all night and read him stories till dawn.
‘Abhimanyu?’ Pakhi’s soft voice brought him out of his reverie.
Quickly composing himself, he looked at Pakhi and whispered, ‘Yes?’
She had finished feeding Abhithi, and was in the process of serving him some fish fry. He could see worry etched on her face, and her smile faltered as she asked, ‘Abhimanyu, are you OK?’
Clearing his throat before answering, he said, ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’
Hesitation laced her tone as she said, ‘Because you didn’t answer Abhithi when she asked if you would like her to tell you the story of the princess who ate all her vegetables and became a brave, beautiful queen.’
Abhimanyu stared at Pakhi for about five seconds before he burst out laughing. The remainder of the lunch was spent listening to Abhithi describe how the princess ate her broccoli and beat up all the thieves.
8
‘I’ll have the Lemony White Chocolate Cupcake,’ Pakhi said to their server at Mrs Magpie, a quaint little dessert parlour in Gariahat. Abhithi was glued to the cake displays and Pakhi could hear the little girl gasping delightedly.
Abhimanyu ordered the Ham ‘n’ Cheese Quiche and a Mini Hot Chocolate.
When he looked at Pakhi, her eyes were as wide as saucers. ‘What?’
‘Umm … nothing,’ she muttered quickly and turned her attention to Abhithi again.
But Abhimanyu was having none of it. ‘What? Ca
n’t a grown man drink hot chocolate?’ His tone was a little berating, and Pakhi felt her cheeks redden as she turned to look at him once again.
‘Umm … no. That’s not what I really meant,’ she offered hurriedly. ‘It’s just that,’ she added, ‘You’re a little more than grown, no?’
Whoa! Had she just called him old?
She was sure her entire face was on fire. ‘I mean … I … err…,’ she stuttered.
‘Ms Mehra,’ Abhimanyu interrupted her stuttering explanations. ‘I am nearly forty-three-years-old but I assure you, I am still very much in my prime.’ When he saw her eyes widen again, he added in a voice so low that it was almost a whisper, ‘In fact, if you like, I could prove it to you.’
Pakhi watched dumbstruck as Abhimanyu got up and walked to her. Bending down, he cupped her chin and brushed his lips against hers. He felt and heard her breath go out in a whoosh. He slowly slid his fingers into her hair as he pressed his lips to hers again, deepening the kiss. He could taste her lip butter, and her soft, citrus fragrance assailed his senses, reminding him of his childhood playing in his grandfather’s orange orchards.
Her hands slid up his chest, and wound their way behind his neck. It was all he could do to not pull her onto his lap right there. But he had to restrain himself. They were in a restaurant, and he was not some sex-starved teenager who couldn’t keep it in his pants – although, at that moment, he sure felt like one. He pulled away from Pakhi, but not before smugly registering her moaning protest.
‘I know, sweetheart,’ he whispered softly into her ear. ‘But we cannot really afford to scandalize your niece or the restaurant now, can we?’
That was enough for Pakhi to quickly move away from him. Her cheeks were flaming. She pushed her chair as far away from Abhimanyu as she could but it was a round table. To save her any further embarrassment, the server arrived with their order. Abhimanyu noticed the fellow paying specific attention to Pakhi as he placed a cupcake in front of her.
‘I hope you like it, ma’am,’ he said, his voice saccharine sweet.
‘I am sure she well let the chef know how much she liked it. Thank you,’ Abhimanyu said rather too caustically.
The fellow looked embarrassed and quickly scuttled away to another table.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Pakhi snapped at him. ‘What the hell was that about?’
‘What?’ He didn’t want to point out to her that she had just used a swear word in Abhithi’s presence. But Abhithi was too busy licking the icing off the cupcake.
‘You didn’t have to be rude to the guy, Abhimanyu,’ she muttered, her voice stern.
‘I wasn’t rude. I was very patient with the fellow,’ he responded, his eyes not meeting hers.
‘You were rude, and you know it,’ she continued. ‘You pretty much told him to get lost.’
‘Yeah, well … he was mooning all over you, Pakhi,’ he said, irritated.
Pakhi took a deep breath to steady her rising temper. Making sure that Abhithi was not really paying attention to the conversation at the table, she said, ‘Abhimanyu Dev, you had no right to speak that way. He was just being polite. If you have a problem with him, please keep it to yourself. And you should be ashamed of yourself! You are in the hospitality business too. You are very aware of how important it is to be polite and courteous to customers.’
She almost hissed the last bit of her tirade at him. He had the grace to look embarrassed. She knew she had struck a raw nerve, but he’d treated the poor server appallingly.
‘OK,’ he sighed, finally acknowledging his mistake. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s all right,’ she smiled at him. She just couldn’t stay angry with him for very long. ‘Drink your chocolate now.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, his eyes twinkling.
‘That was the best cupcake and pie I’ve had in my life,’ Pakhi announced as they got into the car. ‘I especially loved the way the cupcake was decorated with tiny marzipan roses and lemon buttercream.’ Buckling Abhithi’s seatbelt, she added, ‘And that baked fish pie,’ she groaned. ‘That was so, so good! I think we should serve a version of that with some mashed potatoes on the side. What do you think?’
Abhimanyu smiled at her excitement. They’d been in Kolkata only for a day, and she was already thinking of additions to the Mumbai menu. He loved that about her, the dedication she brought to her work.
Loved? He didn’t believe in that sort of thing. He was too old to believe in fanciful notions like love anyway. He was not a hearts and candies kind of guy – he was practical and a realist. He didn’t need any distractions in his life. He was happy the way he was.
But there was nothing wrong in feeling this way, was there? So what if he smiled a lot more when he was with Pakhi? So what if her excitement for a cupcake made him want to hug her?
Because there was no time and no place in his life for a relationship. He’d never been good at it anyway. And a woman like Pakhi was made for more than just a casual relationship.
‘Hello?’ Pakhi snapped her fingers, and Abhimanyu was pulled out his reverie.
‘Hmm?’ he murmured, disoriented.
‘I asked if we could make a few changes to the Mumbai menu?’ she reiterated.
‘That sounds good,’ he replied. ‘What did you think about the Apple Brandy Cupcake?’
‘Oh, that was so good too. I could probably tweak the recipe a little bit though, perhaps, put in some nutmeg?’ she mused. ‘How was your quiche?’ she asked him like an enthusiastic child.
‘Oh, that was good too,’ he said echoing her words. Pakhi laughed softly, a tinkling sound that made him feel warm all over.
He couldn’t let that feeling settle for too long. He had to shake it off. He had to.
‘Do you want to go to the Kali temple?’
Dusk was just falling as Pakhi and Abhimanyu left the Kalighat Kali temple. He was carrying Abhithi and the little girl’s head was nestling on his shoulder as she slept.
‘She’s had a really long day,’ Pakhi whispered to Abhimanyu as he deposited Abhithi in the backseat of the car. After making sure Pakhi was comfortable, he walked to the front of the car and got into the passenger side.
‘I know,’ he said as he buckled in his seatbelt. ‘We’ll just make one final stop before we get to the hotel, OK? There’s this amazing Bengali restaurant, Tero Parbon, quite close by. I thought we’d swing by the place and pack some food. What do you say?’
Pakhi saw the way his eyes lit up as he told her about the place. And she couldn’t bring herself to say no even though she was as tired as Abhithi. She wouldn’t have minded ordering room service as long as she could soak her feet in hot water.
Half an hour later, Pakhi was glad she had agreed to go along with Abhimanyu’s plan. They’d packed kakrar jhaal, which was a kind of Bengali crab curry, along with some potoler dolma and sorshe ilish, the famed Hilsa fish cooked in a traditional Bengali mustard gravy.
Back at the hotel, Pakhi gave Abhithi a quick bath, while Abhimanyu ordered roti and rice. He ordered some tomato soup for Abhithi. From the mini bar, he took out a can of Miller, popped it open, and walked out to the terrace.
It had been a good day, he mused while taking a slow glug of his beer. A productive day. He knew Pakhi had thoroughly enjoyed Mrs Magpie. The way she’d chattered animatedly on the way to Kalighat Kali temple was proof enough for him. He made a mental note to take her back to Mrs Magpie before their trip ended.
The clinking of china and cutlery made Abhimanyu turn around to see Pakhi set the table for dinner. He walked back to the living room of the suite, placing his beer on a coaster on the small centre table, and reached Pakhi just as she was about to open the containers from Tero Parbon.
‘Pakhi, I…,’ he whispered so softly into her ear that she jumped, very nearly spilling the potoler dolma onto the table.
‘Shit,’ she cursed. At the same time there was a knock on the door.
‘Room Service,’ called a voice from the other
side of the door.
‘I’ll get it.’
Abhimanyu quickly walked across to the door and let their server in, while Pakhi mopped up the bit of gravy she had spilled with some tissue and opened the other containers. She was miffed at the room service guy for having interrupted Abhimanyu. She cursed him in her head, but was distracted almost immediately as the aroma of kakrar jhaal and sorshe ilish assailed her senses.
‘Oh, wow. That smells divine,’ Abhimanyu echoed her thoughts. The server laid the tray on the dining table, thanked Abhimanyu and left.
‘Doesn’t it?’ Pakhi couldn’t control herself any longer. She dipped a finger into the mustard curry of the fish and brought it to her lips. But Abhimanyu beat her to it as he quickly took her finger into his mouth and sampled the curry.
Pakhi felt her insides ignite as she watched her right index finger disappear into Abhimanyu’s mouth. She could feel the velvety texture of his tongue and the moist warmth of his mouth against her skin. Her mouth went dry and she could feel sweat trickling into the valley of her breasts. A low, dull ache began near the apex of her thighs. His eyes met hers, and she snuck out her tongue to moisten her dry lips.
To Abhimanyu, that was more than he could handle. He relinquished her finger, only to plunge his fingers into her hair as he took her mouth in a deep, hard kiss. He’d wanted to do this all day. She’d been angry with him all morning, embarrassed all afternoon and happy all evening. The moment she’d taken a bite of the cupcake at Mrs Magpie’s and left a smidge of the butter cream frosting on her nose, Abhimanyu had wanted nothing more than to kiss that mouth of hers.
He could taste the lemony flavour of the cupcake on her tongue. But it was her own personal fragrance that had a profound impact on him. Oranges. And sunshine. His heart beat faster under her hand and his tongue delved deeper into her mouth. He knew right then there was no way on earth that he could stay away from Pakhi Mehra. He needed her. It had been like that ever since she had walked into his life. She’d organized his kitchen and his life so well that he’d forgotten how it had all been before her. Not that it had been a mess, but she’d somehow made it better. And he liked it better.
Served with Love Page 5