Accidentally Ever After

by Mariyam Hasnain

  Natasha sinks in the cushioned chair and reclines. She feels her heart filled with gratitude for her friend as her lips turns into an appreciative smile. She grabs Samantha’s hand. “Thank you so much, Sam. I don’t know where I would be without you.” She looks inside Samantha’s dark kohled eyes. The woman is in her late 30s but still charming and sexy. She’s the only one who can tackle all kinds of customers. Maybe, it’s her generous attitude or her kind nature or maybe her sultry looks that make even the hardest of the customers go weak in their knees.

  “Now stop feeling guilty and take some rest. With summer around the corner, we’ll be working our asses off, so before fatigue could hit you, conserve your energy to fight with it. In your case, you need to do it often because you’re carrying a little angel inside you.”

  “Thanks, love.”

  “Now close your eyes.”

  “As you say, Madam.”

  “That’s like a good girl.” Samantha smiles before turning around and marching her way to the exit of the resting lobby for waitresses.

  “Call me if you need me,” Natasha says, closing her eyes.

  “I will.”

  ***

  Natasha opens her eyes and squints at the wall clock. She feels better now. In fact an hour’s-long nap has helped her tackle the fatigue of continuously working for the past twenty-four hours. It’s a peak season here at Krishnagiri. Cosmos is blasting during summers. Reason—Krishnagiri is a hilly town. People throng the hill station for a cozy getaway and to escape the blistering heat and pollution of the cities. Since the beginning of May, it’s been like this. Streams and streams of day diners and evening guests are filling the pub. Being a touristy town, folks from the neighboring cities prefer to come down here in summers.

  Natasha pulls herself out of the chair and rises to her feet. She then trudges to the exit. It would be irresponsible if she spends a little more time resting. She’s here to fill up for one of her sick friends, and she can’t unburden her responsibilities on another friend’s shoulders. She must go and check on Samantha and finish her shift, serving late-night diners.

  The club is bursting with diners and drinkers. Tables and booths are filling up fast. Yet, the dance floor is almost empty with only a few couples swaying at a slow number.

  Natasha’s eyes dart across the dimly-lit pub and when she finds Samantha serving at a table near her, she adjusts her apron and approaches her.

  Samantha turns around and smiles. “You up, girl?”

  “Yeah, and now it’s your time to go and take some rest.”

  “I don’t think we can afford anyone going off duty now. Look at the rush.” Samantha’s eyes sweep across the overcrowded dining area, then skim the booths and the bar. Natasha too takes in the crowd of late-night diners.

  “Looks like folks have no plans of going back home, still pub hopping." Natasha adjusts her apron on her five-month pregnant belly. Her baby bump is not that evident. But one could catch a glimpse of a small bulge, taking a clue about her pregnancy, when there’s no apron on.

  “Saturdays are always blasting and with summers in the offing, no wonder this is going to be the same pattern for the next several weeks.” Samantha lets out a cold breath. “Let’s get back to work.”

  “Yup. Let’s.” Natasha follows Samantha, scurrying past the tables, making her way to the kitchen.

  Chapter Seven

  For the millionth time in the day, Vikram tries to avoid the doe eyes clouding his head, especially when he’s busy with the oh-so-boring Reddys. Had it not been about company's dwindling finances, he would have certainly avoided this sudden trip to Krishnagiri.

  But it’s important, crucial to save the company from going into ruins. When all the old clients have turned their backs on them, Reddys seem to be the only hope.

  Whatever small or little hope this deal brings to the ruining business empire, Vikram wants to nail this deal down. Luckily, he has an investor who’s ready to invest in a huge gated community of luxurious penthouses. Whether it’s Jaysingh’s old relations with the real estate giant Purohit or whether it’s Vikram's eagerness for success that Mr. Purohit agrees on financing the millions-worth of housing project in the small town of Krishnagiri.

  “It’s amazing to have such a big housing project gracing the blessed land of our small town.” The senior Reddy kisses the gemstone in his index, lifts his glass and sniffs the whiskey. He then gives the beverage a rapid swirl which makes the amber liquid whirl inside the glass tumbler.

  “Let’s have a toast, brother,” the junior Reddy speaks.

  “Oh, yes, of course. I forgot.” The elder Reddy brother quickly raises his glass.

  “To the collaboration of Reddys and Jayinghs.” Srishankar Reddy beams as the glasses are clinked and the deal is deemed to be finalized.

  Vikram sips his wine as relief washes over him. Thank goodness that Mr. Raj Purohit extends a helping hand in not only financing for the land buy but also for investing in the housing project.

  As soon as the papers are signed and both sides attorneys leave the pub, Vikram shifts in his chair, gesturing Keshav to wrap the meeting up. He wants to get back to his hotel and catch some sleep as insomnia has been taking a toll on his system of late.

  “I think we should adjourn this meeting,” Keshav speaks darting his eyes between Vikram and Reddy brothers.

  “Oh, come on Mister Ahuja. The night is still young. Let’s have a few more rounds of whiskey,” Srinivas Reddy fumbles under the effect of alcohol. He’s already drunk to the point where one more shot and he would shrink.

  “You’ve already crossed your limits, bro. Let’s go.” The other Reddy glares at his brother, his brow furrowing.

  “Crossed my limits? Don’t you know I have a record of downing five bottles of whiskey in one single go and not just any whiskey but neat Johnnie Walker. I’m going to break my own record tonight. Bring on some more whiskey,” he shouts, shaking, as he pours more alcohol into his glass.

  “It’s enough, brother or I’m not going to take you home.” The younger brother snatches the whiskey glass and slams it on the table.

  “I’m sorry, Mister Jaysingh. It’s an old stunt of his. When he gets happy, he drinks insane.” He straightens his drooping brother before supporting him from the back and making him stand, wrapping a huge arm around his brother’s back.

  “It’s okay. Never mind.” Vikram tries to ease the expression of embarrassment covering the younger Reddy’s face. And as he does that, the alcohol and smoke laced air of the pub stirs with a wave of awareness.

  A silver face lurks around the corner. She’s serving drinks at the next table.

  N

  Vikram feels his heart pounding hard against his chest, eyes still not ready to register the shock.

  God! How he has suffered after his one-nighter with this woman? Where all he has searched for her? What all he has done to trace this little piece of sexiness? And he finds her here in Krishnagiri, at Cosmos, serving food and drinks to the diners.

  Shit.

  Vikram rises from his chair, ignoring the obscenities going on between the two brothers. He doesn’t want to be a loser this time. Now when he has found the woman, he’s not going to let her pass by like a wave of a fragrant breeze.

  “I’m sorry, but I need to fix something up. Goodnight,” Vikram speaks throwing a hasty glance first at the brothers and then at Keshav. “See them off,” he barks orders at Keshav. Next, he’s striding to the table where he has seen the woman a while ago.

  Just as he reaches there, he notices the woman turning around and marching her way back. When he wants to yell at the top of his lungs, shouting the single letter N or probably prefixing N with a word Miss, he can’t form a single word.

  Not only because he felt overwhelmed with emotions that he couldn’t speak but also because it’s impolite, rude, and unmannerly to call a lady. Lady who you don’t know a thing about except that her name starts with N. Yet, it’s a different thing that you’ve spen
t a night with her.

  Shit. What the hell am I doing here?

  He follows the lady, almost running after her, alcohol running hard in his bloodstream making him dizzy, yet he keeps his feet firm. He rushes after the doe-eyed waitress till the extreme end of the eatery before she vanishes behind a wooden door that read—Strictly for The Staff.

  His feet falter at the door. He wants to push open the door and storm inside, following the sultry waitress. Desperation and restlessness whirl around him.

  In the busy pub, nobody notices him standing there. The dim light adds more to the hazy visibility, plus the servers appear too tired to notice him standing near the staff area. Vikram looks around and when he doesn’t find anyone to inquire about N, he thinks of knocking at the door.

  Yes. That would certainly be a better idea than storming inside without any warning. He steps forward and knocks at the door. Nothing happens. He knocks again and when his second knock doesn’t elicit any response, he banged a fist at the door. The door flings open showing a narrow passage.

  Vikram is about to enter the passage when he feels a presence behind him. Then, he hears a soft female voice. “Excuse me, Sir.”

  Vikram turns around and finds a petite woman, in the same uniform that N was wearing, standing in front of him.

  “I…am…” Vikram massages his forehead, his lips fumble as he speaks, “Is there a waitress whose name starts with N?"

  The lady scans him for a while and then displays a pleasant smile. “Not one or two, Sir, but we have five girls here. And their names start with N.”

  “A girl with long golden hair and doe eyes. Do you know her? I’ve seen her at the table serving food?”

  “Which table, Sir.” The woman shifts on her heels and throws a cursory glance at the checkered floor dining hall.

  “That table. That corner one. In the right.”

  “Oh, you mean table number nine?” the lady asks, returning her gaze to Vikram.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I mean the table where a bald head and a fat lady are sitting? There?”

  Vikram follows the woman’s stare. “Yes. Exactly. There. I saw a waitress. I know her.”

  “But you don’t know her name.” The woman flashes a sardonic grin. Her eyes twinkle with mischief.

  “Oh, it's just…” Words trail as Vikram tries to conjure up something meaningful. But before Vikram could come up with something genuine, the lady cuts him.

  “I’ll see what I can do for you, Mister…”

  “Vikram Jaysingh.”

  “Please wait here, Mister Jaysingh.”

  With that said, the lady scurries past him. Next, the door is slammed shut on Vikram.

  Chapter Eight

  “Vikram Jaysingh.”

  “Yes, babes and he’s looking for you like a desert wanderer seeking oasis.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Natasha feels her hands quivering. She’s almost at the verge of dropping the tray she’s holding when Samantha gets the hold of it.

  “Give it to me and you go and see your admirer.”

  “Admirer, my foot. The man is a philanderer.”

  “He must be. God has bestowed him with such Greek Gods’ looks, he can make any woman go weak in her knees and wet in her panties.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to change your underwear now?”

  “Samantha never drools over someone else’s candy. He’s looking for you. Didn't I tell you the fact? Now, go and meet him.” Samantha literally snatches the food tray from Natasha. She then marches her way back to the dining hall.

  "Damn! What the hell is he doing here? As if I am having less misery in my life that he has shown up here. What does he want?" Natasha mutters treading out of the kitchen, marching to the exit of the staff’s zone.

  A set of dark eyes greet her the moment she steps out of the staff zone and enters the dining hall.

  “Hey.” Vikram smiles.

  “Hi. How are you?”

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “Likewise.”

  A wave of nervousness creeps through Natasha’s entire being, feet feeling like jelly the moment Vikram’s deep dark as night eyes try to study her.

  “So…” Natasha pushes some imaginary strands of hair behind her ear, trying to subdue the tension whirling across her.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Yeah, go ahead.” Natasha feels her voice turning wobbly.

  “We haven’t met after that.”

  “Yeah.” Natasha tries to look away.

  “You left without even saying goodbye.”

  Natasha is quiet. She doesn’t have any words to defend herself against Vikram’s accusation. She was rude and impolite. Leaving the room without even saying goodbye to a man who has helped you tackle your mind’s endless rambling never exists in Natasha’s dictionary.

  But what to do when your own heart stops you from doing something. She didn't want to regret for getting laid with a womanizer like Vikram Jaysingh. Instead, she wanted to forget him. She wanted to start a new chapter in her life. She wanted to bid goodbye to all things sad and gloomy and meaningless.

  There wasn't any way out than to sneak out of the room in the early morning hours while Vikram was asleep. She didn't want to become a subject of mockery to her own self. It was under the effect of alcohol that Vikram agreed to spend a night with her. Else, Vikram Jaysingh would have never ever thrown a single glance on a simpleton like Natasha, let alone having sex with her.

  Awkward stillness unfurls between them. And despite the mild chatter of the diners, Natasha feels her mind going numb.

  “Do we know each other? Perhaps from school or perhaps from college?” Sexy baritone dissolves sugar in Natasha’s ears. She lifts her eyes and gazes at Vikram who is rubbing his chin, his eyes still fixed on Natasha.

  “Umm… I… I don’t know.” Natasha’s lips fumble.

  “You don’t know? What does that mean?”

  “I mean I don’t know if you know me or not.”

  “Do you know me?”

  Natasha falls silent. It feels as if someone has jabbed a knife in her heart. How the hell she could forget Vikram Jaysingh. A jumble of anger, disappointment and anxiety lances through her, but the next moment she regains her composure and speaks, “Yes, I do.”

  “What?” His eyes grow narrow. Next moment, he kills the remaining distance and reaches out to her hand.

  “I’m sorry, but I need to get back to work.” Natasha tries to turn around when Vikram grabs her by her elbow.

  “No. You can’t leave. You need to tell me. How do you know me and why the hell I’m not able to recall anything except that night?”

  “Because there was nothing between us before that night,” Natasha blurts out.

  “You remember, I asked you whether you knew me or not and you said—"we don't know each other.” Why?”

  “Because that was the truth. We truly never knew each other.”

  “But just now you admitted that you knew me. Is there a charade going on? What the hell are you trying to communicate?”

  “You can’t question me anymore, Mister. I work here as a waitress. My job is to serve food at the tables. Pleasing a customer, doing small talks with them, or tolerating their rubbish exceed my job role.” Natasha stops for a while, clears her throat and speaks again, “And if that’s not enough I want to tell you that we’re having a crazy rush of customers. I must be working than doing some bizarre conversation with you. So please excuse me.”

  Natasha feels a hand landing at her back. Samantha edges closer to her, her eyes darting between Vikram and Natasha.

  “I’m sorry, Sir, but you need to get back to your table. We can’t afford pay cuts. Our hourly wage depends on the number of tables we serve every hour. I hope you understand us.”

  “I’m ready to fucking cover her entire week’s salary if that’s stopping her to talk to me,” Vikram rebukes.

  So typical of you Vikram Jaysingh. You haven’t ch
anged a bit. You’re still a filthy rich asshole like you were years ago.

  Silence unfurls for a while before Vikram mellows down his tone and continues. “Look. I need to talk to you. Few minutes. Please.”

  There’s an urge, a request in Vikram’s eyes that makes Natasha’s heart swell with emotions. Old wounds resurface as Vikram makes a desperate attempt to reach her out. He holds her hand and whispers, looking inside her eyes, “Please. For old time’s sake.”

  Natasha gazes inside those pools of darkness and feels her heart melt with pain of heartbreak and old melancholic memories. She then drifts her eyes to Samantha. Samantha nods, pursing her lips and stroking Natasha’s back.

  “Okay. Can we go somewhere else? I don’t think it’s wise to sit here and talk as I work here.”

  “Sure!” Vikram beams.

  “I’ll be back in a few.”

  “I’ll wait for you.”

  Natasha plasters a fake smile on her face. Her eyes turn watery as she leaves Vikram in the dining area and trudges to the waitresses’ room. Her feet feel heavy, faltering at each step.

  Is she doing the right thing? Would it be right if she tells him the truth? And all of it?

  As Natasha plays with the idea of whether to reveal her identity to Vikram, her feet take her to the waitresses’ rest area, unknowingly. Confused, she unties her apron, takes off her serving gloves and brushes a hand over her neatly tied hair.

  She doesn’t have to look presentable coz she knows Vikram has nothing to do with her looks. He has never acknowledged her presence ever in the past. She was around him all the time, but he was so busy flirting with other girls, he never bothered to look at her, not even once. Then, why the hell does he want to meet her now?

  Has anything changed after she spent the night with him? But that also happened months ago.