The Marriage Game

by Sara Desai

  “But I’m the longest-serving employee here,” she protested, pushing back her silver hair. “I was the first cook they hired. I know everybody. I even remember you, Sam. I just got my thirty-year pin. Who’s going to want someone my age?”

  Karen gave her a tight smile. She had been assigned to St. Vincent’s Hospital and was delighted to work with Sam again so soon. “You’ve seen a lot of changes in those thirty years, Diane. Changes that have made the hospital more efficient and better able to serve the needs of our patients. The automation of the restaurant is just another way we can save costs and pass those on to patient care. You do want the best for the sick and injured, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And I know you wouldn’t want to stand in the way of progress . . .”

  Sam had to hand it to Karen. She had that rare skill of appearing sympathetic while being utterly brutal underneath. Royce would have loved her technique.

  “Well, no . . . But . . .”

  Sam tried to tune out her story, but his usual tricks didn’t work. The walls he’d built to protect himself had come down. He felt deeply for this woman who had tried to cheer him up on the hardest days of his residency, and he couldn’t hide his compassion behind platitudes and lies.

  Karen segued into the paperwork, handing over Diane’s final check and the termination contract. She explained the details and then looked at Sam expectantly.

  Sam opened his mouth, but nothing came out. How could he tell her how to fix her life when he hadn’t figured out how to fix his own?

  “Sam has a little speech,” Karen prompted.

  “Actually, I don’t.”

  Karen snickered. “You’re supposed to tell her to think of it as an opportunity, try something new, put the past behind her, blah blah blah.”

  Blah. Blah. Blah. Karen had hit the nail on the head. His speech was nothing but air.

  Sam handed Diane one of Layla’s EXCELLENT RECRUITMENT SOLUTIONS cards. She’d left them in the trash after clearing her stuff out of the office. He wasn’t sure if that meant she’d decided to close up her business or if she was starting something new, but he’d kept them and tucked some into his wallet for no reason other than that he liked seeing her name. “If you are looking for work, try Layla Patel. She’s the best. Very caring and supportive. She has a good roster of corporate employers and she’ll make sure you find something worthy of your talents. She might not be at that address, but her social media and phone details will be the same.”

  “You’ve lost your edge,” Karen said when he returned from seeing Diane out.

  “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Well, you’d better get focused because the board agreed to include medical professionals in the layoffs. Dealing with surgeons who think they’re gods is a totally different ball game.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  “I almost forgot to give you this.” She handed him a computer access token. “Royce told Peter you would need access to the employee database to flag any high-profile employees who might prove difficult if they’re targeted for redundancy. No one wants a lawsuit or a PR nightmare.”

  Sam’s hand shook when he took the token. Either Royce felt guilty for what he had done to the Patels or he finally understood Sam’s need to avenge his sister. In any event, he was finally holding the key to his redemption.

  “Are you okay?” Karen asked. “You kinda look like Charlie when he found the Golden Ticket in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”

  When Sam gave her a puzzled stare, she shook her head. “Never mind. You don’t have kids.”

  “When is our next meeting?”

  “After lunch.” She licked her lips. “You want to christen the boardroom in our special way?”

  Even if he hadn’t had the Golden Ticket in his hand, he would have turned her down. There was only one woman he wanted, and being with anyone else felt like a betrayal. “You go ahead and grab a sandwich. I think I’ll catch up on some work. I’ll see you back here in an hour.”

  Just in case she didn’t get the message, he flipped open his laptop and started to type.

  With a disappointed sigh, Karen left the room, leaving him finally and blissfully alone.

  It took only a few minutes to log in and find Ranjeet’s file. And then he was lost in a sea of complaints related to Ranjeet’s alcohol problem, including sexual and verbal abuse of staff, inappropriate behavior, and the performance of his duties—including surgeries—while intoxicated. For the most part, hospital administrators appeared to have swept the complaints under the carpet. There was nothing about Nisha or the accident in the file.

  “Is that the kind of guy you and Royce are worried might pose a risk to the company?” Karen asked from behind him.

  Sam froze, his hands on the keyboard. He’d been so engrossed in the file he hadn’t even heard Karen come in. Now that she’d read the screen, lying wasn’t an option.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s pretty standard,” she said, taking a seat beside him. “Surgeons have a lot of power in the hospital, especially the ones who bring in a lot of money. The hospital will bend over backward to protect them so they don’t lose them to the competition. I’ll bet there isn’t even a disciplinary note on the file.”

  “What if it were something more serious?” He scrolled down the page. “What if a physician committed a crime and the hospital covered it up? Would there be any records?”

  Karen twisted her lips to the side. “If there is a serious liability issue for the hospital, the legal team gets involved. They’ll often have the file scrubbed and the details restricted to people at the highest level.” She looked over at him, considering. “Legal files can only be accessed by the legal team.”

  “What about old security footage?” He was beyond caring if Karen knew what he was after. He’d already crossed a line by accessing the file.

  “It’s stored off-site and not easily accessible.” She frowned. “Your computer access will likely have been limited to HR and employment files, finance, and corporate administration.”

  “So that’s it. He wins.” Hope withered and died. Sam had dreamed of this moment for so long, he almost couldn’t believe that all his efforts and sacrifice had come to nothing. There were no answers, no justice, and there would be no redemption.

  “What did he do?” Karen asked softly.

  “He pushed my sister down a flight of stairs at this hospital and broke her back. She’s partially paralyzed and uses a wheelchair now.”

  “Oh God, Sam.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “And the hospital covered it up?”

  “My sister thinks so, and I believe her. I wanted to find the truth so she could have justice.”

  Karen tapped the screen. “And it’s somewhere in there.”

  “Or on a security tape or a witness statement . . . Someone knows what happened and may have been afraid to come forward, like you said. Or maybe there was no one else in that stairwell and only the two of them know what really happened.”

  “This is outrageous.” Her lips pursed together. “We need to talk to someone.”

  “No.” Sam shook his head. “I can’t do this anymore. I spent four years and lost everything trying to find the truth. I blamed myself for the longest time. I thought I should have seen what kind of man he was. I thought my family should have looked deeper into his background. But it’s clear he was very good at hiding his addiction, and what he couldn’t hide, the hospital covered up.”

  And it would always be the same unless someone stepped up. He couldn’t turn back time for Nisha, and he couldn’t give her the justice or even the answers he had hoped for, but he could help to improve the system by returning to medicine and becoming a voice for change.

  “If you feel you need to go to your manager and tell her I have a conflict of interest, or that I was looking at t
his file—”

  “I don’t,” Karen said firmly. “Do you know why I got the kids in my divorce? It’s because my ex was just like this guy. He was a mean drunk, and I knew if I didn’t get out of there, he would turn his anger on the kids. You were only trying to help your sister, and I’m just sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for.”

  “I did find something,” he said. “A way to forgive myself and move on with my life.”

  Karen pulled out her keys. “We still have a bit of time before the next employee arrives . . .”

  “Another time I would have said yes.” Sam gave her a warm smile. “But one of the things I lost was the woman I loved, and now I need to make things right.”

  * * *

  • • •

  “SUNIL Singh. Hedge fund manager. Age thirty-five. Founder of Sunkey Capital. They employ eighty professionals in four countries and manage capital for foundations and high-net-worth individuals.”

  Layla could hear Max barking at Daisy on the other end of the phone. Patel Personnel was now working out of a dog-friendly shared office space in Bernal Heights while they looked for a new place to set up shop.

  “What’s wrong with Max?”

  “He’s hungry for your mom’s pakoras. I don’t know what I’ll do when your parents move the restaurant to Sunnyvale. He’s developed Michelin-starred tastes.”

  “The elevator just reached reception,” Layla told her. “I’m going in.”

  “Maybe he’s the one.”

  “I doubt it.” Layla took in the white backless leather sofas, glass-tiled floor, and the mural of a snow-covered mountain made of cotton balls. “His office looks like Elsa’s ice palace in Frozen.”

  Layla announced herself at reception and poked at the cotton balls until Sunil’s personal assistant, dressed in an ice-blue suit, her long blond hair braided down her back, arrived to escort her to Sunil’s office.

  Layla threw up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun shining through two floor-to-ceiling windows when the assistant opened the door. By squinting, she could make out the vague shape of a man behind a desk.

  “Sunil Singh. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Could you lower the blinds?” Layla felt around for the chair and guided herself into the seat as the door closed behind her. “I need a visual of the man I’m considering for marriage.”

  “Ah. I think your father may have misunderstood my inquiry.” Sunil pressed a button and the blinds snapped closed, shrouding the room in semidarkness.

  Layla blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light and Sunil came into focus. He was thin and wiry, with an oversize lollipop head topped with a glossy thatch of hair. His long, slim fingers were almost skeletal in appearance, and although he was definitely brown, he looked like he bathed in saffron paste or one of the many skin-lightening creams elderly aunties always recommended to attract a better husband.

  “Here’s the deal.” Sunil leaned forward. “I can’t marry you because you’re not a Singh.”

  Layla slumped back in her chair and feigned disappointment. “I’m sorry to hear that. I would have thought that personal flaw would have been evident from the fact that my last name is clearly stated on my desilovematch.com profile.”

  “I invited you here because you looked hot in your picture,” Sunil continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m attracted to you so I’m willing to bang you.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Bang.” He made a lewd gesture with his hands. “You and me. I’ll do it.”

  She stared at him, appalled. “My dad didn’t post my profile because he thought I was desperate to get laid.”

  Sunil was exactly the kind of man she’d hooked up with after Dev died. Shallow, narcissistic, and interested in only one thing. She could sleep with Sunil without any fear of an emotional connection. She could drown the pain of losing Sam in a few mindless moments of pleasure, the way she’d done after Dev.

  Except she didn’t want to forget. She wanted to keep her memories of Sam from the day she threw office supplies at his head to the last afternoon they’d spent together. He’d shown her that it was okay to love again and that she could survive another heartbreak.

  “But you are desperate,” he said. “I can tell from the way you looked at me when you walked in. You want me. Bad.”

  “Am I supposed to be grateful that you’re willing to sleep with me?”

  Impatience vibrated around him. “Yes.”

  Unwanted and unexpected, she had a fleeting thought about texting Sam. She’d enjoyed meeting new people with him, not just for the sake of finding a husband, but because those were the moments when she’d found out that he loved horror movies and donuts, supported the wrong team, and was fiercely protective of the people he cared about.

  “I don’t think so.” In her imagination, she heard a growl, the thunder of feet. The door flew open and Sam stalked into the room, grabbed Sunil by the neck, and slammed him up against the glass.

  Except it wasn’t Sam grabbing Sunil. It was her. Flinging open the door and walking away. And, damn, it felt good.

  She called Daisy from the elevator. “That was a total bust. Who’s next?”

  “Akhil Jones. He’s waiting across the road in a coffee shop. He’s in the middle of an engineering degree at USC. He likes long walks on the beach, picnics in the park, and lazy Sundays in bed at his home where he still lives with his parents. Musical influences include R5, Paramore, Panic! at the Disco, and Sleeping with Sirens.” She sighed into the phone. “Sounds dreamy. If you don’t want him, I don’t mind robbing the cradle for a man who isn’t afraid to send a picture of himself screaming on Splash Mountain at Disneyland.”

  Layla was across the road and in the coffee shop by the time Daisy finished extolling the virtues of younger men. She knew Akhil right away from his solar-powered Transformers backpack and the fact he was the only person in the café drinking juice.

  “Akhil? I’m Layla.” She held out her hand and smiled at the skinny kid with the five-finger forehead.

  “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Ha ha. Nope.” She gave him a tight smile. “I’m going to cut it short right here, Akhil. I’m looking for someone a bit more . . . mature.”

  Someone with a deep voice and broad shoulders and a sarcastic sense of humor. A friend and companion who could make her smile at the worst times and laugh at the best times. Someone who treated her like an equal and made her feel like a princess. Someone who wanted her whether she was wearing pima cotton briefs or shapewear or nothing at all.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “That’s okay, Akhil.” She turned away. “Your Buttercup is out there. You just have to know how to find her.”

  • 27 •

  SAM realized where he’d been going only when he pulled up in front of his parents’ house. He’d been driving for hours since receiving Nisha’s text telling him she didn’t need a ride home from rehab. Sam didn’t know if she’d found out about Layla and didn’t want to see him, or if she really was going out with a friend, but since he’d never had a Monday evening free since the accident, he didn’t know how to spend the time.

  Through the window, he could see the flicker of the television. Although his mother had quickly adapted to streaming services—likely because they offered her an endless supply of horror films—his father refused to watch anything that wasn’t on cable.

  His heart ached when he saw movement behind the curtains. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a real conversation with his parents. Save for the most basic greetings, and discussions about Nisha’s welfare, he’d shared nothing of his life, and what he knew of theirs came through his sister.

  A knock on the window brought him back to the moment. He lowered the window and nodded a greeting at his father.

  “What are you doing sitting out here al
one in the dark?”

  Sam shrugged. “Nisha canceled on me. I didn’t know what to do.”

  His father smiled. “She has a new friend from rehab and they went out together for dinner. She’s taking the disabled transport bus home. I said I would pick her up, but she said no. She wants to do it herself. All this since you introduced her to your friend Layla. I don’t know this girl, but I like her already.”

  She needed an emotional push, not a physical one.

  “Layla said I was smothering her.”

  “You were protecting her,” his father said. “We all were. But maybe we forgot to let her fly.” He handed Sam a paper bag. “Your mother saw you sitting here so she made you something to eat. Don’t worry. It’s Western food. Some kind of sandwich.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Why don’t you come inside where it’s warm? We don’t have to talk. You can watch a scary movie with your mother like you used to do. I don’t like all that blood and screaming, and the people have no sense. Why go alone into a basement without a flashlight? Why do the girls all fall down when they run?”

  “I had a chance to get justice for Nisha and I blew it.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them. “And not in a small way. I lost everything.”

  “I thought I lost everything, too.” His father’s voice thickened. “But today my son came home.”

  Sam was out of the car before his brain even processed he had moved. He wrapped his father in a hug. “I’m sorry, Dad. When Ranjeet wasn’t punished, I needed someone to share the blame.”

  “I forgive you.” His dad clapped him on the back and they held each other for a moment longer. “For the first few months, I was like you. What if I’d made more inquiries? What if I’d gone to India to see his family there? What if I made them spend more time together? You can torture yourself forever but it doesn’t change anything, and in some ways it gives him more power. Do we let him destroy all our lives or do we show him we can’t be defeated? The best revenge is to move on and live your best life and give Nisha all the love and support she needs to live hers.”