by Nikita Singh
'Hello, Mr Datta,' Shambhavi went ahead and greeted. She wondered if she should add that she was his biggest fan and would love an autograph, but composed herself just in time.
He turned his face towards her for a micro second and nodded, turning back to his observation. All business, all the freaking time.
'Meet Mrs Ahluwalia. She's the owner of this mansion,' Shambhavi said, rather stiffly, turning all business herself. 'Mrs Ahluwalia, this is Mr Arjun Datta, of Datta Enterprises.'
'Nice to meet you,' Mr Datta said coolly.
Mrs Ahluwalia seemed to find it difficult to speak. It was justified; she had been expecting a stocky, dark man with dirty clothes and a dirtier motorcycle. Maybe stinking of pan masala and tobacco. Seeing Mr Datta would understandably stupefy anyone in her place.
'Hi, I'm Faisal Khan, personal assistant to Mr Datta,' a lanky man of around twenty-five moved forward to introduce himself. His smile brightened up the space. Shambhavi felt relieved that he was there, that she was not alone in the company of two people whose default facial expression was a scowl. Such people only brought depression all around them.
'Hi, Faisal. Let's start with the work then?' she proposed and there were nods all around. She started walking towards the foyer and everyone followed. Once inside, she turned her work-mode on full time. She walked from room to room, speaking aloud what she had in mind for where, looking mostly towards Faisal, as she figured that the other two weren't people who liked conversation. She kept shooting ideas around and everyone listened. She had been there before the previous day and explained it to Tutul, so she knew she had the technicalities covered. That gave her confidence an extra boost.
Mr Datta pointed out some flaws and put forward some suggestions, all of which Shambhavi agreed with. The man really was a genius. She got even more excited about the successful completion of the assignment, which she could easily picture happening in the next couple of months. The best thing was that Mrs Ahluwalia did not seem to have regained her power of speech as of yet. That let Shambhavi concentrate on the task at hand, without having to think of immediate alternatives for the options Mrs Ahluwalia generally would not have approved of. But the poor lady kept a nervous smile on her face and nodded her approval at everything.
'So, what do you suggest would be better?' she turned to Mr Datta and asked when they reached the porch. 'Three sides of lawn chairs and recliners and one with a swing? Or all four sides of chairs?'
'Two sides of chairs, here,' Mr Datta motioned with his arms. 'The third a swing. Let's keep the opposite end of the swing open, shall we? It has a great view of the garden downstairs?'
Shambhavi nodded thoughtfully. 'Yeah, that makes sense. Plus we do not want a terrace garden; we have a huge lawn downstairs, so there's no need. I was thinking, maybe cover this porch with half a shed, leaving the front part open for sunlight? The shed will also add to the beauty of the place. It'll be a nice spot for people to relax.'
They kept on like that for the next one hour-throwing around suggestions, agreeing, thinking of alternatives and planning a final layout. Faisal recorded the entire conversation, to sort later and generate a list of the pieces of furniture they would require. They were going to look through the catalogues of all the designs DE had built in the past and select the ones they wanted for the mansion. (Upon choosing from there, they would put the workers at DE on the job of replicating the designs, since the company did not have anything in the inventory.) The rest of the articles would need to be designed and built, later.
By the time they reached the second and the last floor of the building, Mrs Ahluwalia took her leave, muttering something about an appointment at a spa. Shambhavi happily bid her a goodbye.
Since the second floor was built in only one fourth of the total space, they were done in less than fifteen minutes. Faisal reminded Mr Datta about his meeting with some associate and they made their way outside, finalizing their own meeting for the next day.
'Why is 10 am not working for you?' Mr Datta asked Shambhavi, as if it was a crime to ask for a meeting at 12:30 pm.
'I have some personal obligations to deal with,' she replied shortly.
'What kind of personal obligations?'
She wanted to tell him that it was none of his business, but stopped herself at the last moment. Maybe he is just asking because 12:30 doesn't work for him. He is not checking to see if I am in a relationship with someone. Why would he? He clearly has no interest in me. I do not have any in him either.
'I think we can make 12:30 pm work, Mr Datta. We have cancelled your meeting for that slot since the last shipment has not gone through quality check yet,' Faisal intervened, sensing the tensed air between the two.
'Is that so?' Mr Datta glared at his assistant, who looked away and nodded silently. He turned to Shambhavi and said, 'See you at 12:30 then, Ms Sen.'
Shambhavi and Faisal watched as Arjun Datta walked away, towards his car. After exchanging a he's-crazy look, they followed closely behind.
'So, where are you headed from here?' Faisal asked Shambhavi, who was busy staring at the way Mr Datta's hair fell slightly over his shirt collar from behind. She tore her gaze away.
'I don't know. To grab a bite to eat, maybe? What time is it?'
'2:30 pm,' Faisal replied, checking his watch.
'No wonder I'm so starved. My internal alarm clock has been ticking since the last one and a half hours now.'
'What do you say we go somewhere together? Crown Palace is nearby?'
Shambhavi looked at him. He looked younger up close and maybe it also had something to do with the nervousness in his expression. He liked her. The realization struck her suddenly. All signs suggested that. She had been blind about the way he had been trying to get her attention and kept smiling at her. A small smile stole onto her face, too. She was flattered. Faisal was sweet and she did not see any harm in having lunch together.
'Sure,' Shambhavi said.
'Great. We'll let Mr Datta leave for the office and let's go to the restaurant?' Faisal smiled a genuine smile.
'I'll get my car,' she said, moving towards her dying Esteem.
'I'll get mine,' he said and turned towards his car.
'Faisal,' Mr Datta called him just then.
'Yes, Mr Datta?' Faisal rushed towards his boss-who was sitting in the back seat of his car-and bent down to speak at eye level to him.
'Go straight to the office, right now, and create the list of articles we'll need,' Mr Datta said curtly.
'I'll get to the office in an hour. I have to-'
'Did you not hear what I said?'
'I did, sir. But I haven't had lunch. I'll grab something quickly and get to the office as soon as I can. I assure you the list will be ready shortly,' Faisal said.
'Now, Faisal. Now. What is it in that word that you don't understand?' Mr Datta seethed.
'Okay, sir.' Faisal moved away from his boss' car and mouthed a sorry to Shambhavi, who had been watching the interaction. She nodded to let him know that it was okay. She felt sorry for him, as she watched him rush to his car and drive away, his ears red with embarrassment.
She knew she should have let it go, but she could not. She marched towards him. She saw his driver get out of the car and hold the door for Mr Datta, who got out, seeing her charge.
'You know that you are a monster, don't you, Mr Datta?' she asked, her jaw clenched.
'I do have an idea, yes.'
'Oh, you do? Well, I just wanted to make sure, in case no one else told you, seeing as you seem to own everything around you, living or non.'
'What do you mean, Ms Sen?' he cocked his eyebrow.
'I mean that just because the people around you have their paycheck depending upon you, they do not tell you what a jerk you are. I thought I should do the honours.'
'Thank you. That's very considerate. Now-get in the car.'
'Excuse me?' She was stunned.
'You heard it right. Get in.'
'What? But ... why?'
'The sa
me reason why I asked Faisal to leave. And the same reason why I will leave my driver here-I want you all to myself.'
When we fight our hearts, to prevent ourselves from falling in love, the conflict is inevitably lost. The heart is already lost, long before the realization strikes.
rjun stole a look at Shambhavi, sitting in the passenger seat of his car. Even though he was the one who practically forced her to come with him, he still wished that she had refused. He knew she would not have; just the way he could feel that she was excited, sitting in the car, next to him. It almost oozed out of her, like a physical presence. Darn.
Ever since he had first met her, he had been trying to fight the instant attraction he felt towards her. He was not a man who believed in love, or more importantly, trusted it. He did not think he was even capable of loving. If they kept meeting, their professional relationship would eventually develop into something more. They would reach a point where he would have no idea how to control things from getting out of hand. And he did not want that to happen.
For his sake. And hers.
'Where are we going?' Shambhavi asked, just as he was crossing Palasia Square.
'Radisson,' Arjun replied shortly.
'Oh. We're having lunch?'
'Yes. Didn't I hear you say that you were hungry?'
'Kind of, yes. But I didn't know you were listening. Were you eavesdropping, Mr Datta?' she cocked her head to a side and asked.
'No, I wasn't. It was you who was not speaking very softly,' Arjun said stiffly.
'I was. I was whispering into Faisal's ear. We were going to go on a date ... why would I shout?'
'Date, Ms Sen? You met that man just once, and you were already going on a date with him?'
'How does that concern you?' Shambhavi prodded, grinning widely. 'I know-you're jealous! You are jealous of Faisal. You could not stand that I was going to go out with him. So you sent him away and kidnapped me.'
'I kidnapped no one.'
'Yeah, right. You should have seen the look on your face. You didn't even need a gun to scare me into getting into the car. Even your driver was scared.'
'I just asked, and you agreed. And my driver wasn't scared. He left because I asked him to. That's in his job profile,' Arjun tried to convince Shambhavi.
'Of course, of course. Whatever you say,' she just rolled her eyes.
There was a silence in the car for some time. Arjun thought that it was a little awkward, but Shambhavi did not seem to mind. She was looking outside the window and smiling to herself like a lunatic.
'What's so funny?' he asked.
She turned to face him, grinning from ear to ear. He did not understand why she smiled so much. No matter what was happening around her, her default state was-being happy.
'What's funny is-you. You're the strangest person I have ever seen. All this time, you kept giving me a cold shoulder, when I was all starry-eyed about you. And when I gave up on getting through your sad, dark exterior, I find that you secretly like me.' She flashed him a dazzling smile, which made her eyes light up and her nose turn slightly pink.
'Starry-eyed about me? Do you think it's a good idea to start giving away such information just yet?' Arjun tried to act cool, but what she said had made his heart skip a beat. He did not like that feeling. He wanted no one to get in through the walls he had knowingly and rightly created around his heart.
'How does it matter? We're already going on a date, and knowing myself as I do, I'm sure you won't be able to let me go, ever.'
'That we will see. It seems like you assume too much. Likewe are going on a date and I secretly like you.'
'I'm not assuming, Arjun. I know. I can see,' Shambhavi said and blushed furiously, as if just realizing what she had been saying.
'Arjun? What happened to Mr Datta?'
'That was changed recently. It'll be so odd to call you Mr Datta now, with us dating and all, don't you think? And you can call me Shambhavi.'
By that time, they had reached Radisson. As the valet pulled the door open for her and she climbed out of his car, he scolded himself for the millionth time, for doing what he was doing. He had been doing a good job of being aloof and staying away from her, and he should have stuck to it. But seconds later, he found himself getting out of the car and handing over the keys to the valet.
'Shall we?' he asked, placing his hand softly at the small of her back.
'We shall!'
'Why are you so happy?'
'Why are you so irritable?' she questioned back.
'It's my way of living. Answer me, I want to know,' he asked, curious.
'Well, because being sad is not a good feeling. And looking sad will let others know that I am weak. I hate it. So I have made happiness my way of living.'
'Is there a reason why you should be sad?'
'Is that the kind of question you ask a girl on your first date with her?' she swiftly changed the topic, but he noticed.
'Fair enough. So, okay-tell me all about yourself,' he asked. He was not good at making small talk, so it was a good thing that he was genuinely interested in her and the question came to him naturally.
She rubbed her hands together and started, 'Well, I am an extrovert. I do not keep things to myself. I express what I feel in several forms of art. Except singing; I'm really bad at that. I write poetry, but don't show it to others. I write blog posts, but no one reads them, except this guy by the alias taciturnaficionada. I think he stalks me, but I do not mind. I have never had any follower my entire life. I love painting and dream of a day when I would have to do nothing in life except paint.'
'So you want to make a living out of painting?' Arjun asked.
'I just want to paint. And since making a living out of something is an obligation in order to place food on the table, I won't mind doing it through painting. Though, I do not know how that is going to work; I never sell my paintings.'
'And why is that?'
'I just don't. While painting them, I form a certain connection and cannot see them part from me.' She made a face. 'That's how interior designing comes in-to earn. I agree that it is fun too, and I have grown to love it, but for me it's still basically about a pay packet,' she explained.
'Why is money so important?' he asked. He fought against it, but his lips still formed a thin line of disapproval.
'Because I want to go to Paris,' she stated simply.
'Paris? Why?' He was confused.
'Because Paris is awesome, why else? Anyway, where's the waiter? I am starved. Will you think of me as gawaar if I order Indian food? I really do not want anything to do with Italian or Thai right now.'
'I'll have the same,' Arjun said, silently appreciating her for choosing Indian food.
They summoned the waiter and placed their orders. Surprisingly, his hunger had disappeared as soon as the topic of money had come up. He knew it was his problem, not hers, but he still could not make himself understand that this girl was different.
'Now, your turn-tell me about yourself,' Shambhavi asked. 'And not the stuff that is already on Google, because I know all of that already'
'You Googled me?'
'Yep. Didn't you Google me back? You would not have found much, but still. People do that nowadays, to find other people on social networks and places like that,' she explained. She looked surprised at the fact that he did not already know about all that she said.
'No, I did not search you on Google,' he replied.
'Never mind. I told you about me anyway. So tell me-all good hidden things about you. Something that no one else knows.'
'I do not know how to do this. I am just a regular person. There is nothing extraordinary about me, nothing to tell.'
'Oh, don't kid me. There is nothing regular about you, okay? When I first met you, I thought you had a red room of pain hidden somewhere,' Shambhavi said and winked at Arjun. The humour was lost on him. He stared at her with a blank expression.
'What?' he asked.
'Arey, like Christian Grey
, from the Fifty Shades trilogy!' When the look on his face still did not change, she explained,'He was into BDSM, and had a room for that. I compared you to him because you have kind of a dark air around you, too, like there is something you are hiding, under that gorgeous exterior of yours.'
'There's something dark about me?' Arjun asked, as the food was served.
'I used to feel so, but I don't know. You seem okay from up close.'
They started eating and for the next few minutes, there was silence at the table except for the rhythmic clinking of cutlery. From the look on her face, she was satisfied with the food, and so was he.
'I'm sorry. It must be such a turn off to see a girl hogging down food like this, but my lunch was overdue, and I had not had breakfast this morning,' she explained him between bites.
'I do not mind. In fact-it's quite the opposite. Watching you eat is better than seeing you play around with food on your plate and eventually wasting it.'
'Why would I do that?'
'I don't know. Girls do that. They order things and do not eat. Ultimately, the hotel throws it away,' Arjun said.
'Not all girls are constantly dieting, you know?' Shambhavi said and turned her attention back to her food.
'Point taken.'
'We need to come here again. Now that I have tasted this, I cannot live without it for long,' she said, pointing to the chocolate tart they had ordered for dessert. 'Oh, I have an idea. Let's go out tomorrow night? I know the perfect placethey have the best Chinese food in the city. You'll love it. My treat.'
And that is how she asked herself out on a second date, as Arjun sat there, partly shocked, partly oddly excited.
It was 1 am and sleep was nowhere in sight. He reprimanded himself for getting weak and letting her get under his skin. He should never have asked her out for lunch. She'd thought it was a date, and they had another date set for the next night. As he lay in his bed that night, he still did not know how it had happened. How could he let it happen?
He had been trying to hold back and not get close to her. That was what was best for both of them, but he failed. He let her believe that they were dating, and she was bound to get hopeful about their future together. That is how the female brain functions. The female brain also senses wealth and can do anything to have it. That is how it is with women. What's in a man's pocket is more important to them than love.