Krivi!
~~~~~
Ziya stepped back as did Krivi.
“Thanks,” she managed, when she got her breath back.
It puzzled her that she’d lost her breath for even a second.
Krivi looked at her for a single, electric second, the hard planes of his face set in even more rigid lines than Sam’s, who was a career military man. He didn’t have a traditionally handsome face; it was too hard for that. But she felt something every time she looked directly at him.
“You should never turn your back while entering a room,” he suggested.
“I hardly think that terrorists are going to gun me down in my own living room.”
Krivi stepped back from her as if he couldn’t bear to be near her. There was ignoring, and there was indifference and then there was outright abhorrence. And this man was displaying the third emotion with his emotionless face in spades.
“All the same. Please, be careful.” He didn’t take his eyes off her face, as he continued, “Hey, Major. How’s it going?”
Sam threw his hands up as he stalked out of the living room.
“I am not coming back till someone can talk sense into that woman.”
That woman came storming behind him, whirled him by the shoulders and kissed him hard. Gripping the front of his shirt collar to keep him in place and plastering her body to his. Sam kissed her back with equal passion, not able to keep his hands or his lips to himself for even a single second.
Ziya looked at Krivi who looked at the passionate couple as if they were specimens at a zoo.
When Noor dropped down to her feet, she said, “Bye, Sam. Don’t come back unless we can talk like two rational adults who are madly in love and are willing to work on the future.”
Sam’s lips tightened and he nodded once, and wearing the trademark Raybans that every military man owned, stalked out. His razor-straight back radiating tension.
Noor turned to look at Ziya with absolute misery on her face.
“I am going to have ice-cream for breakfast. Chocolate ice-cream,” she announced defiantly.
“I’ll get the bowls out in a second, honey,” Ziya said, gently.
“Yeah.” Noori sniffed once, and then gave a wobbly smile to Krivi. “Love sucks, Rambo. Don’t ever fall into it.”
Krivi smiled at her, a strange stretching of his facial muscles that made Ziya’s stomach jump.
She realized she’d never seen him smile before today. Not once. He had even white teeth that stood out against the dark tan of his face. And his smile was extraordinarily sweet despite the hard mouth it came out of.
“Don’t plan to, sweetie. Want me to beat up the major for you?” he offered, shoving both hands into his jeans pocket.
Noor sniffed again and shook her head. She laid her head on Ziya’s shoulder, which was sort of like seeing a giraffe lean on a gazelle, since Noor was a leggy five-ten and Ziya barely topped five-five in her bare feet.
“Not yet. We’ll keep that as the last resort.” Her dull eyes brightened and she fixed Ziya with an enthusiastic grin. “Maybe Rambo can knock him unconscious and we can get him to the nikaahnaama and then he won’t have any choice than to say Kubool hai.”
“Yeah, good plan, Nuria.” Ziya used her nickname affectionately. “Get your future husband passed out to the wedding.”
Krivi shrugged his broad shoulders under his sheepskin jacket that was definitely not from the Hindukush region and said, “It’s as good a plan as any, I suppose. Just let me know an hour before, okay?” Then he winked to good effect. “I promise I won’t even damage his face so you’ll get your perfect wedding pictures.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Krivi. Zee, I’ll see you in my room. I don’t want Dadu to castigate me again when he finds out I fought with Sam. Dadu and Sam need to continue being buddies.” It was times like these, that Ziya remembered that Noor was a warm, considerate woman who put other people’s feelings before her own and was not just a ditz holding out for a diamond ring.
Noor squeezed Ziya’s shoulder and shooting another bright smile in Krivi’s direction sashayed back into the kitchen.
Ziya looked at Krivi. Krivi tried to look back, but he only managed a left of center gaze and her lips tightened in annoyance. He’d winked not a minute ago. Not one damn minute ago! Was she such a troll that he couldn’t feel any kind of warmth towards her?
“Noor’s feeling bummed out. She doesn’t show it, but—"
“We can do this in the afternoon. Read up on the report by then.”
Krivi dropped a thick file in her general direction and she caught it with the same hand that held her phone. There was a little bit of juggling on her part when she tried to make sure she didn’t drop the papers inside the file. So she was frowning when she looked up to thank him.
And found only empty space where he had been a second ago.
“I don’t need this,” she announced to the empty air and stalked back into the kitchen.
It was the morning for an ice-cream breakfast, after all.
Four
Ziya put in a full hour with Noor, sympathizing, encouraging and alternating with sharp words that defended Sam’s actions before she escaped. The chocolate ice cream sat heavy on her stomach and she knew ruefully that she’d have to forego lunch.
Since it was a remarkably beautiful day, she decided to bike it down to her office in Srinagar. Dada Akhtar was in his office, probably playing online rummy, so she texted him her plan of action. It was sweet how he worried about her when he didn’t know her whereabouts.
Usually, she used the four-wheel Rover, but the ice-cream had put her in mind of some immediate exercise. And, she needed to burn off the steam of her anger against one Assistant Manager who moved like the goddamn air.
The bike ride down the small hillock was bouncy but invigorating and, on flat land, there was a bike path that she was the only one who used with any consistency. People preferred walking in Kashmir, or driving. Because of the hilly, rough train.
She, with her holistic lifestyle and her obsession with keeping the weight off, wanted to bike it up and down like a Tour De France champion.
Goonj Enterprises was a simple three-floor building set in front of an apple orchard that produced award-winning apples.
There was an apple cider unit in the back lot, and then, for miles on end on either side of the highway were timber lots owned by the Akhtar family. Some of the timber was cut down and sold to local manufacturers, small craftsmen who needed that special chinar, maple tree, bark for their carvings and carpentry.
The rest of it was used to manufacture cricket bats.
The first time Ziya had entered the workshop where the cricket bat was made, she’d been astounded by the easy precision and perfect syncing of the wood being cut and the final product.
The building was divided into offices for Krivi and Ziya and a few other personnel as well as a souvenir and apple-cider tasting shop on the ground floor. The store was called Goonj Curios and Souvenirs, because she’d wanted to reinforce the brand name of the family enterprise. And it sounded powerful and mysterious.
Goonj in Hindi meant echo, and it resonated with the warm feeling she wanted every customer who came in to leave with.
And every day, when the store opened for business, Ziya made it a point to walk through and greet the first few browsers and have an encouraging word with Nigar, the local girl who manned the store. She did the same today too, but she was late by almost two hours and the place was pretty deserted.
Nigar was showing a couple of Japanese tourists around the store so Ziya waved at her and kept moving to the back entrance and her office.
The storeroom was next to the shop and her office was on the next floor. She quickly jogged up the stone steps and entered her office with a small sigh. Her legs ached because she’d pedaled furiously in her anger and she uncapped a bottle of spring water she kept on the sideboard and drank it down thirstily.
Then she dropped her mess
enger bag on her comfy desk and opened the file that Krivi had thrust at her.
~~~~~~
A knock sounded on her door and she looked up to see Viven, her assistant, come in with a tray of signature sample bottles for the apple cider they produced.
“These came in by special delivery. You have to let them know which one you want by Friday latest, and they can get on to bulk manufacture in a week.”
“Put it down here.” She indicated the edge of her cluttered desk.
Viven whistled as he placed the tray, after clearing a pile of papers. “I have told you I could clear all this stuff up for you, Ziya.” He smiled goofily, “It’s my job as your assistant to help you out any way I can.”
“And it’s my job as your boss to tell you it’s not your job to clear this stuff up. I like it.” Ziya gave a sharp grin.
Viven shook his head and ducked out.
Krivi came in without knocking just as Ziya opened the file. She looked up a split second before he entered, her inner radar alerting her to his silent presence.
He was dressed much like her. Jeans, a dark brown sweater and work boots. He didn’t even wear a watch but she knew he was always on time. Every fricking where. It was uncanny and a little frightening.
“You read it?”
He didn’t sit down, didn’t hover at the edge of her desk. He just stood, casually taking up all the space in her cozy, little office.
Ziya resisted the urge to lean her chair back and regard him better. “No. I just got in.”
“I’ll come back when you have.”
“That’s all right.” She tapped the file. “I think I sent you most of the stuff that you used to collate the report. What’s your gut telling you?”
He blinked, as if he was unsure of what he’d just heard. “I beg your pardon?”
Ziya smiled and tapped the folder again. “The saffron field we are looking to acquire. Yield-to-seed ratio, output and expenses. Is it sound to go into it, right now? With the shaky situation of the market?”
“Isn’t it your job to figure out all the angles?”
She nodded and pushed her hair back behind her ear. His eyes twitched to her small ears for a microsecond and she dropped her hand back.
“Yes, it is.” Ziya leaned back in her chair to regard him better. “I just wanted your opinion. I assume you have one.”
Krivi nodded. “Yes, I do.”
She waited a beat and then drummed her fingers over the folder again. “And this opinion would be…”
“We have a meeting day after tomorrow in Pehelgam. I think you should take it. The man seems decent, and his finances are in order. It’s a risk you can afford to take.”
She smiled again, but this time there was a bit of warmth in it. “Thank you. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Again, his hard eyes twitched, as if she’d said something that could set him off. “What was?”
“Talking. Communicating.” She kept the smile on even while she felt the temperature drop in the room by a good ten degrees. “You know, like normal people do.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he replied, honestly. “I have never been normal.”
“Of course, you haven’t.” She shrugged. “I’ll look through the report again. See if I can spot any errors. But I think we are going to buy a saffron field.” She waited a beat. “I’ll see you day after tomorrow then. You can drive us down in the Range Rover. It’s not a problem, is it?”
Krivi didn’t say whether it was a problem or not. All he said was, “Day after tomorrow. Nine am.”
And he was gone, closing the door behind him in a soundless movement.
Five
The next day, Noor made a slight but significant change to their plans.
She was bored and she wanted to sightsee in Gulmarg and pig out on hot makka and chicken tandoori kebabs. Noor was an emotional eater.
Ziya knew her best friend’s moods as well as she knew her own, so she knew the deep hurt Noor was hiding under her flippant arguments. So, she simply texted Krivi to tell him that they could take two cars down, since Noor and Ziya would probably end up spending the night in Pehelgam.
He sent a word back in reply. No.
No explanations, no excuses and definitely no deference to the boss’s wishes. Just a no.
She was half-tempted to go down to his cottage and give him a good tongue-lashing for such insubordination, but then her Inner Bitch reared her head and argued that the best revenge in this scenario would be compliance. She’d seen the acute distaste in his eyes when he’d touched her yesterday, which meant that he wasn’t a big fan of her company either.
So, what better way to avenge her ego than by making him suffer her presence for as long as she could?
She only sent a single Cool back in reply.
Her last thought was the way his eyes had gone absolutely still when he looked at her. And the way that stillness touched off something inside her. A tiny explosion of…something. Then she slid off into dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~
Ziya woke up at six am to amazing weather on the day of the Pehelgam trip.
The sky was so blue it was unreal, and the world looked so fresh and silent, Dada Akhtar’s roses were in vivid Technicolor against the green of the garden. There was a river of fog winding down the ground, and she leaned out of her window and breathed deep, closing her eyes, just…glad to be alive. Glad to be here and living this moment in Goonj.
She opened her eyes and looked straight at the gamekeeper’s cottage. By some twisted uncanny coincidence, the cottage’s owner stepped out of the entrance at the same time and into his Jeep.
Ziya shut the window closed with an audible snap. He was not the first thing she wanted to see any morning.
But, two hours later when she was packing for her overnight trip, he was what she thought of and she couldn’t understand her hopeless attraction at all.
Especially, because asking Noor about it would be an exercise in futility and awkwardness since she already suspected some deep love-story connection between the boss and her taciturn assistant, incurable romantic that she was.
And Noor would never keep her mouth shut if she caught even a whiff of the tumult and confusion and plain anger running through Ziya’s mind with regard to Krivi.
“Hey, babe,” Noor said as she came in, without bothering with the knocking. “I have to borrow your ear muffs since…” She stopped dead as she saw the mass of jumbled clothes on her best friend’s bed.
“Did a tornado just pass through here?”
Ziya raked a hand through her short hair and kicked at a stray white tee that had fallen off the pile on her bed.
“It’s a business meeting. But we are going sightseeing later on and I have no fricking clue how to dress up and down at the same time.”
Noor manfully kept her full lips from splitting into a wide grin at the outraged picture her friend made, standing in her flannel pants and cute tee shirt. Ziya dressed more for comfort than she did for style.
“Want some help?”
Ziya gave her a speaking look through dark eyes. “No. I want to not go on this stupid meeting and then have to listen to you whine about how Sam is messing with you for the rest of the day. I have the harvest reports to get through, and the labor union is breathing down my neck and—"
Noor bounded over to her side of the bed and stuck her lips together mid-sentence. “Shut up,” she advised mildly.
Ziya’s eyes flashed, but she shut up. She rubbed her cheek and said, “I am going to talk to Sam about the benefits of staying single.”
Noor stuck her tongue out and retorted, “You need my help in picking out an outfit, friend. So let’s not make idle threats here, okay?”
Ziya’s shoulders slumped and she conceded defeat.
“I am in your hands, mistress Gabbana.” She was the undisputed expert on style and fashion as much as the state of politics in 17th Century England, the time period of her doctorate.
Noor grinned, r
an a friendly hand through Ziya’s shoulder. “Make that Mistress Dolce. It just sounds better, doesn’t it?”
Ziya sighed and agreed. Because right now she did need Mistress Dolce’s help and she was running out of time because the Crypt Keeper without a watch would arrive on the dot of nine…and she didn’t want to deprive him of her presence a second longer than she had to.
And because no one was there to counter argue the point with her, she absolutely believed in its logic.
~~~~~
Pehelgam was a small town about halfway between Srinagar, the capital of the state of Jammu and Kashmir. It was a tourist hub, just like most of the state’s territory and it had many focal points of sightseeing.
There was Chandanwadi, an ice-cave that never melted through which the river Chenab flowed. There was Betaab Valley, about four acres of parkland where a very famous Bollywood movie had been shot.
And, in the beautiful distance, one could see the Himalayan ranges in their majestic splendor. In fact, the valley was named after the movie and was on the list for every movie enthusiast who visited Pehelgam.
Since, tourism was the biggest trade in town; out-of-town vehicles were not allowed to operate inside city limits. Recently, though, security had been upped in this sensitive spot because of IED bombings in nearby Sonmarg and Gulmarg in 2008.
Pehelgam had, by the grace of god, escaped terrorist attacks but the tourists, army and visitors alike knew that was just fate and not coincidence.
Because of Sam’s pull with the local authorities, all Krivi had to do was flash a Military Vehicle pass and they were allowed to pass through without incident. Noor noted the action and some of the animation died from her excited face.
They stopped at Paradise Inn, one of the Circuit Houses in the town and which select guests could use. Local businesses from Srinagar were one of the privileged few.
Warrior Knight Page 4
