If Emma knocked on Rishi’s door and Kaushik was there, still arguing with him, Emma would make up a lame excuse about borrowing sugar or something.
If Emma knocked on Rishi’s door and he was awake and alone, he would either (a) tell her to leave because he was going to bed; (b) engage her in polite conversation (and remind her that he had to find an Indian wife with shampoo-model hair, even though at one point he thought she was a lovely specimen); or (c) engage her in the Congress of the Cow position, whatever that was, because he needed to live in the moment, and damn his search for an appropriate wife.
She pressed her hands to her eyes and kicked her feet. She told herself to focus on her vacation, which she had not planned, and their presentation in the morning. Besides, it wasn’t like she would have the guts to tell him how she felt anyway.
How ridiculous would it sound? Oh, Rishi, I know if it had been up to you, I wouldn’t even be here in India, but I think you’re hot and can’t stop thinking about how you’d be in bed. And that whole thing about me finding you a wife because you need to get married—can we just push that aside temporarily so I can get this out of my system? Just exorcise these erotic demons that keep thinking about your eyes and biceps and thighs and chest and hands? And snake?
It sounded absolutely ridiculous.
Though she was planning on going to a tiger preserve. What was more dangerous? Encountering a tiger, or letting her guard down for Rishi?
CHAPTER 24
Rishi tapped his foot, waiting for the host to finish his introduction. He’d never presented at a conference, although Emma had assured him it was easy. She’d told him to look over their heads at the wall in the back of the room. At the time it seemed like a good strategy, but now all he could do was stare at all the faces staring back at him.
After TechLogic was introduced, Emma took the microphone.
“Hi, everyone, I’m Emma Delaney, and I’m going to start by telling you how this app idea was conceptualized based off our work on a similar desktop project, Project Helix, in the US branch of the company.” Emma pressed the small buttons on the remote to move her slides forward. She didn’t show a single hint of nervousness as she discussed the work they had done and how success had come about, and she even dived into some of the code iterations for the true geeks in the room.
Why couldn’t Rishi be as calm and confident as her? And why hadn’t he realized the first few times they’d talked how sexy confidence looked on Emma?
As the timekeeper at the bottom of the stage held up ten fingers, she wrapped up her section and handed it over to Rishi, who took the mic from her, his hand wrapping around half of hers during the handoff. As the velvet touch of her hand slid beneath his, something tugged deep within. For a moment, he froze in front of all the little heads in the audience. They looked like a coating of barnacles on the bottom of a boat, eyes all waiting expectantly for him. He remembered Emma’s advice, and his eyes shifted to the blank wall behind them. With a deep breath, he was able to walk through the slides, his gaze shifting from the wall to the projection screen behind him, and able to ignore the sea of faces in between the two.
When Rishi was finished, he joined Emma at the side of the stage. It was then Kaushik’s turn to demo the app. A cameraman edged toward him to shoot a close-up of the phone to project on the monitors so the audience could see it better. Instead of showing off the app, Kaushik bent down so that his face was even with the camera lens, as if he were what the videographer was aiming for, not the phone.
The cameraman stumbled backward and fell off the stage, with him and his equipment tumbling the three-foot drop to the floor. Rishi sucked in his breath and started toward him. Before he reached the edge of the stage to see if he was okay, the cameraman had gotten back up on his knees, waving that he was all right, and Kaushik apologized, stuttering as he tried to start the presentation. Rishi kept a straight face, but he wondered if this incident had completely damaged the company’s reputation. How could Kaushik be so foolish?
“God, he is such an egomaniac,” Emma said under her breath, her hand covering her mouth.
“Mm-hmm,” Rishi hummed, eyes still focused on the demo.
He tried to watch Kaushik, but instead his mind went to the trickle of Emma’s breath that had seeped out warmly with her whisper. How would that breath feel on his ear while she whispered what she wanted him to do to her? He envisioned her hotel room, Emma beckoning him in. When he got inside, she pushed him onto the bed, her hair tickling the bridge of his nose and her lips teasing his. At this point, he didn’t know how much longer he could stand the fantasy without finding out if the reality was possible.
Once the presentation was finished, the audience applauded, and the three of them walked down the stairs, heading to the side of the room to find new seats. Kaushik told them he was going to leave.
“Aren’t you going to stay for at least a few of the presentations? Jas had us come all the way here,” Emma said.
“No, I can’t,” Kaushik said, looking around the room. “It’s too embarrassing. I don’t want anyone to remember me.”
Before either of them could protest, Kaushik had walked out of the room. Rishi shrugged, but inside his chest, it felt like every bit of him was leaping in applause and congratulations, high-fiving this glorious fate: alone with Emma for the rest of the day.
“Let’s grab a seat,” he said, unable to hide the immense smile pulling at his lips.
At five, the day was done. Emma stretched in her chair and looked at Rishi. “I’m starving. Do you want to go to somewhere in the city? I feel like I haven’t seen it. And I could use some fresh air.”
As they walked toward the door, at least twelve people stopped them to compliment them on the presentation. It was an hour later by the time they reached the doors to go outside.
“Someone is popular,” Rishi said. Every man they’d walked past had wanted to shake Emma’s hand and congratulate her on the project.
“They were talking to both of us.” She gave him a sideways look, but a smile raised one side of her mouth.
“Yes, I’m sure the fact that everyone stopped us and talked to mostly you had nothing to do with your excellent presentation, your name gracing renowned papers, or . . .” He had almost said being the most beautiful woman in the room but had caught himself. “Uh . . . or wanting to ask you questions about Helix,” he said, staring off toward the coastline.
Emma hummed in response, as if she was thinking his words over. “It’s never this hot in Bangalore, is it?”
“No. This is Kerala. God’s own country and God’s own sauna. If you can wait to eat a few minutes, we should go see the fishing nets before sunset.” Rishi had only been to Cochin once as a child, but he remembered the giant fishing nets that hung over the water. Back then they had reminded him of a huge slingshot. But instead of slinging rocks at schoolmates, they flung nets out to catch fish and prawns from the ocean.
This was his chance. His chance to sweep up Emma into a moment she wouldn’t forget. Whatever happened after this trip, whatever his parents needed him to do, he had to get her out of his system. He had to undo the Emma that was coating every inch of his mind. He couldn’t think straight; he couldn’t focus on the right priorities; he couldn’t even escape thinking about what she would think about what he thought. Hopeless.
He had to know what was between them before he could move on.
How could he do this? In front of the romantic backdrop, with the sun setting in the background, the fishing nets stretched out over the ocean? Thrusting her up against the elevator on the way to their rooms? Confessing his feelings after too many Haywards and, if she laughed in his face, being able to blame it on a loose tongue controlled by a 50 percent functioning brain?
“Fishing nets?” She looked at him as if he’d spoken in another language.
Maybe that wasn’t the best idea. But she should at least see them. Tonight was his chance to scoop up the best of his world and gift it to her. “
They’re really cool. I promise.”
As they strolled in the humidity, Emma stopped as they walked, reading the menus at the restaurants, with the smell of cardamom, cumin, and fried seafood wafting about, trying to decide what to have for dinner. “Let’s come here on the way back,” she said at one café and then another.
“That’s the seventh restaurant we have to come back to. I’ve been counting.” Rishi laughed, again the urge to throw his arms around her coming over him. Her excitement about the food was contagious. Even he was about to give up the quest to see the fishing nets.
“They all smell so good! I’m starving. Where are those nets?” She glanced around, hand shielding her eyes.
A few minutes later they approached the beach, where a group of people had gathered at the docks. Farther down the coast were long poles, tied together and swept up and over the ocean, hoisting wide nets suspended horizontally over the water. From a distance, they looked like sinking ships, the posts holding the nets as they stretched down toward the water without falling into it. And there weren’t just a few: there were six, eight, twelve—they couldn’t see them all. The way the sun lit them, like a naked light bulb hanging over the waves, was more than just a postcard moment.
“Cool, huh?” Rishi said beside her, wondering what she would do if his arm sneaked up around her shoulder.
“Very. How do they work?”
“I have no idea.” He laughed and turned to the left at the noise gurgling up and down the road. “Hey, there’s a fish auction going on.” Rishi grabbed her bicep, trying to uncurl her arms, which were crossed over her chest. He was aware of his fingers against her torso. He let go once they were walking, but when they reached the auction, Rishi pulled her again so they could get up front. He tugged a little too hard, and she shot forward, her chest landing against the side of his.
“Oops! Total accident,” he said, but Emma didn’t seem to mind that her chest had collided with his. In fact, she hadn’t moved. Her eyes were focused on the display in front of them. It felt so natural for their bodies to fit together like this.
On a makeshift wooden platform smeared over with sand, buckets and trays cradled miniature gray octopuses, thin shimmering fish, and prawns ranging from two inches long to almost a foot. Flanking the buckets were long thin fish and smaller fatter fish, all of them dry, with flies buzzing about. A few of the prawns were trying to crawl around in the buckets. They weren’t all dead, just slowly suffocating.
Emma walked away, her hands folded over her stomach.
Rishi jogged over. “Dinner?”
“Yes, but I think I’ll have to skip the fish.”
“Okay, but you’re missing out!” Rishi said, rubbing his hands together and practically drooling. He could taste the coconut and curry leaves the fish would be swimming in. The salty-sweet tang of the prawns sprinkled with chili powder and jaggery. The mussels cooked with shallots, garlic, and garam masala. Coconut milk dousing it all.
On one of the quaint cobblestone streets they had walked up earlier, Rishi and Emma stopped at a sidewalk café and took a seat at one of the tables. A large round mosaic lamp hung from a black-and-white-striped awning, illuminating the space.
When the waiter came, Rishi couldn’t decide and ordered three different seafood items while Emma decided on a paneer dish and mixed vegetables. As the waiter walked away, Rishi called out, “Oh, and two Haywards 5000s!” He smiled at Emma.
“Feeling dangerous?” she asked.
“Maybe just a little.” He raised his eyebrows. “By the way, we need to continue on with our Indian food tour. You have to try some fish. We’re in Kerala.”
“We’ll see. I feel like that auction might have turned me off fish for a while.”
“You just need to be turned on again.” Rishi realized what he said, then noticed the color spreading through Emma’s cheeks as the waiter delivered the beer to their table.
“What do you think happened to Kaushik? Still sulking in his room?” she asked.
“He’s called me twice,” Rishi said, pouring half the beer into a glass for Emma. “But I thought maybe we would just go out. Even though I know you adore him so.”
“I kind of feel bad for him. There’s a first for everything.” She laughed.
The waiter came back, filling their table with too many plates of food. Fragrant spices encased a fried fish garnished with halves of miniature limes and sliced green chilies. Another fish was unwrapped from a banana leaf, coated with spices, and steamed from within. Rishi’s fleshy prawns swam in a fiery-red curry. Butter melted onto flaky parathas. The whole table smelled like coconut, roasted tomatoes, a million spices, and the freshness of the tropical coast. He cut a piece of the fish and held it out to her.
She took a bite and her eyes closed. This must have been a hint of what she looked like in the throes of ecstasy. Head tilted back, throat pulsing, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. A hum vibrating her lips.
Could Rishi do that to her with his hands and mouth?
“Okay, maybe I made a mistake in my order,” Emma said, her sultry smile spiking up his jeans.
He cleared his throat and told his body to behave. “Don’t worry: I got enough for both of us.”
“You know you want some delicious vegetables.” She held up a bowl.
“Oh no, I don’t. I had enough vegetables growing up to last me a lifetime.”
“So when did you stop being vegetarian?” she asked, taking some of the fish from his plate.
“College. My family is from the priest caste, so we don’t eat meat. Or drink. Or smoke. Or gamble. You know, anything that is unpriestly.”
“The only one of those I haven’t seen you do is gamble, so I’m guessing there may still be one-fourth of you that’s priestly,” she teased.
“Well, there are casinos at most of the hotels here, so we could go, and you can see that I am only priestly by birth. After I left home, all the priest flew out of me.” He punctuated his proclamation by placing a prawn in his mouth.
“What do your parents think about that?” she asked, tilting her head.
“They don’t.” Rishi shook his head. “They have no idea.”
“You hide it from them?”
“It’s not hiding if you neither admit to it nor deny it, right? It just never comes up.” Another innocent lie meant to protect them. Emma reached over and grabbed another bite of his fish curry. “I see you are not sticking to your recent decree to not eat the fish. The priest in me is really judging you right now.”
“I had to sacrifice for the tour. Tell your inner priest to be more understanding. As you are clearly sacrificing for the tour as well. You just happen to be on tour every day.” She leaned back in her chair, stuffing some paratha in her mouth and grinning. “So your parents don’t know you live a double life?”
“No.” He shook his head. It was better that way. Spared them needless heartburn. “You never hid anything from your parents?” Rishi asked. Emma knew everything about his life, it seemed, and all he knew of hers was that she had high school dates whom she may or may not have kissed and a grandmother who threatened to shoot them.
She shifted in her seat and looked off toward the ocean. The red vines of her hair blew across her face as a wind from the coast swept over them. Rishi’s hand lifted up to brush them out of her face before he realized how absolutely inappropriate that was and settled it back in his lap before smacking it into compliance with his other.
“My parents died when I was eight.” She swallowed, but she wasn’t chewing anything.
A shock reverberated through him. That was the last thing he’d expected. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” That was so long ago. What was Emma like when she was eight? How could losing both your parents that young affect you? Her face didn’t reveal anything, but now he wondered what else she was hiding. His cousin had been sixteen when his dad died of cancer. Old enough to understand what was happening, but it had been hard and had definitely changed him. What did it
do to you if you were a little kid?
“It’s okay. I just don’t like to bring it up.”
“But why? It’s a part of you. You’ve obviously made an amazing life for yourself despite the circumstances. Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
She shook her head and blew out a breath that was more of a grunt. “Some asshole drunk driver hit them. On a bridge. They were flung over the side, and . . . well, that’s what happened.” She looked over to the side again. Her eyes had soured. He hoped she wasn’t going to cry. He didn’t want to be the reason.
“So that’s why your badass grandmother was the one pointing the shotgun at your dates instead of your dad?” He smiled at her and hoped that would get maybe half a laugh out of her.
It did, thankfully. Emma laughed and sniffed at the same time. “Yeah.” She nodded at him, her lips curled up in a sad sort of smile.
“Thanks for sharing that with me.”
She took a bite of paratha. “I guess that’s why I like food so much too. My grandmother was not a cook.” She shook her head and laughed. “Based on what you’ve said about your mom’s cooking, I’m pretty sure her worst nightmare would be walking into my grandmother’s kitchen. We didn’t have money, so we ate some pretty weird, kind of gross old-school stuff.”
“Like what?” Now Rishi was intrigued. What food did Emma think was gross and weird?
“Well, do you know what Spam is?”
“No.”
“Count yourself blessed. It’s like, I don’t know, pureed meat parts? And they smoosh them into this can, and then you cook it.” She shivered. “And cheese that didn’t actually contain dairy. And lots of pickled things. There was once a jar of pickled pigs’ feet in our kitchen.” She held up her hands like she was surrendering. “Although I swear I never touched those. That’s where I drew the line.”
“Pigs’ feet? Pickled?” Rishi was trying to conjure up how you would even do that.
“Yeah, I hope I’m not ruining your meal.”
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