Love by Surprise

by Shilpa Mudiganti

  It was smooth sailing once the utensils were found and I was presented with a glass of red wine that looked as enticing as the scene before me.

  Ryan had changed into a white cotton tee and shorts. In bare feet, with messed-up hair, he cooked for me. I would be lying if I didn’t find him gorgeous, in spite of his casual look. His athletic figure--thanks to his running--combined with his ridiculous good looks, made him hard to miss. I was never able to not notice how women would steal glances at him at work. But seeing him like this...I felt the butterflies in my stomach again.

  I wondered again why he was still single. He could have any woman if he wanted to and yet...My thoughts went back to the morning. He had been nothing but kind and helpful throughout the day, even if it meant walking endlessly in the hot sun or dealing with my mood swings as my prospects of finding a decent apartment dwindled. And when the agent had said I wouldn’t get the apartment for another three weeks, he stepped in while I wallowed in grief.

  But more than anything else, he gave me a place to stay once again. He had given me my first break in some real consulting work as well. I had already felt grateful to him but now...I feel wholly indebted to him and I wasn’t sure how I would ever repay him.

  But all he wanted in return was a date. I looked down at my glass of untouched wine to hide my smile. I had assumed the worst because of his reputation. A date to a gala was easy. The media would be a problem, but maybe we could avoid disaster somehow.

  I turned my attention to Ryan, who placed a steaming plate of delicious-looking marinara pasta in front of me. He sprinkled a bit of cheese, his eyes never leaving my face.

  “What?”

  “I never expected to see you in my kitchen, enjoying a dinner I made,” Ryan said, smirking. He moved to sit at the island to my right.

  “Me neither. Don’t go advertising that though. If my family ever knew about it, they would ship me back to Chicago overnight.”

  Ryan lost his smile at that.

  “Why would you allow them to do that?” I searched for mockery, but his question was sincere, and so was the twinge of sadness in his dimmed blue eyes.

  “Living in with a man before marriage is generally frowned upon in the Jain family and,” I crossed and then uncrossed my legs as I mulled over my next words. He waited, his concerned gaze never wavering from me. “And when you spend a lifetime making disastrous decisions, you tend to believe they know better.” I put the fork down, my appetite lost suddenly. A familiar loneliness snaked into my heart again.

  “Does your past matter now?” he asked, his voice unusually soft. I met his gaze, a fire of denial burning in them.

  “I believe so. I am what I am, in all its ugliness, because of my past.” I shrugged, the weight of my disastrous life so far pulling me down. Embarrassing as it may have been, I wished I could taste the wine to borrow some liquid courage. It would have made it easier to bare my failures to Ryan.

  “If that’s the case, then I am glad about your past.” He gripped his fork, his blue veins creating artwork across his arms. “Because all I see in front of me is an incredibly talented, strong, and determined woman out to right the wrongs and make her destiny without any help. And there’s nothing...absolutely nothing more attractive than that.” I searched his face for mockery, waiting for him to say “gotcha” any moment. But all I saw was a brand of honesty that burned through my shame, leaving nothing but the raw need to prove him right. I swallowed thickly and nodded.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He started to say something but then stopped. He shook his head, clearing out the words, and dug into the spaghetti with an unexpected force. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he swirled the fork angrily, churning a spaghetti hurricane in his plate.

  “I’ll wait for the day when you find me worthy of hearing your story, Anshi. But...don’t ever wait for me or anyone else to tell you how to live your life. That’s giving people too much power over you. Just, too much.”

  “My family loves me,” I said defensively, yet mildly.

  “Good for you. Now tell them to stay out of your life.” His voice was even, every word uttered softly, but he might as well have punched me in my gut. I couldn’t move my gaze away from him, the hurt that flashed on his face. For me. Not because of me. He was hurting for me.

  I finally looked away and focused on finishing dinner even though my appetite was fully lost to the churning in my stomach. The light mood of the evening was replaced by a heavy sadness in the air. We ate in silence. The quiet dulled the tension between us.

  “Wanna watch a movie?” he asked, as he washed his plate in the sink.

  “That thing works?” I said, pointing to the massive black screen on the wall behind me. Everything in the house was so immaculate and well-maintained that it looked like a model home. He let out a smirk.

  “Time to find out, baby. Should I put on a horror flick so we can snuggle up?” he said, wriggling his brows.

  “Ha. you wish.” I rose to settle on the couch while he browsed through Netflix. We finally settled for Tom Cruise dangling from a tall building in Mission Impossible. Memories of my sisters and I fawning over The famous actor made me smile. I snuggled under the blanket, hands around my knees and chin over my hands.

  “You look warm,” Ryan said.

  I turned to him, my head on my knees. He lounged at the other side of the sofa, feet resting on the ottoman. I opened up the blanket and pushed a corner towards him. He faked a gasp.

  “Is that for me?” His gaze swiveled to the blanket, then back to me.

  “Don’t push it.” His teasing smile still on, he scooted closer to me. He draped the blanket over his long legs and stretched like a satisfied cat. He rested his hand behind me, but not really that close. I bit my lip again, trying not to give in to my smile.

  “Tom Cruise makes you very happy.” I broke into a giggle. I didn’t think he realized he was playing with a lock of my hair.

  “Reminds me of Sara and Nisha. Tom Cruise helped us overcome our sisterly differences. Remember, Ghost Protocol? We were dying to watch it on release day, but Dad had us all lined up to go to a lame party once again.” I sobered a bit, nostalgia washing over me. “Nisha pretended she was sick, and I faked a fall from the stairs. Sara acted as if no one other than her could nurse us back to health. It was the only time all three of us lied to our Dad. Together.” I shook my head, remembering Dad’s horrified face at the chaos at home. “He just had no patience for the overwhelming estrogen-induced drama and left us to it. We rushed out the door the moment his car left the driveway.”

  “You and your sisters are close.”

  I paused at that. Were we? At some point, probably yes.

  “Not so much now. Things changed. I...changed.” Somewhere between his kindness to me and how safe I felt with him, the urge to say more, defend my actions welled up in me. I took a deep breath. “I am the black sheep. The troublemaker in the family.”

  “Hard to believe that. I have never seen anyone hide from attention more than you.” His fingers traced the tattoo on my arm lightly. I had once told him the tattoo was more to attract attention than hide. It was the truth.

  “Trust me, it’s better that way. I never bring good news. The media loves me.” I sighed. “I am a recovering addict. Drugs mostly, but I had a phase with alcohol too.”

  There, I said it. I felt lighter, even though sadness crushed me. Any moment now, I would lose the look of adoration he usually had reserved for me. I expected him to flinch; to withdraw. And yet, he was still there, his eyes tracing the roots of the ash tree on my arm.

  “Is that why you never touched your wine tonight?” he asked, still looking at the tattoo. I nodded, biting back words. I was holding my breath for a judgement, for harsh words that would put me in my place. “I’m sorry, Anshi.”

  What? I bent to meet his eye, confused about what he was apologizing for. When he looked up, his eyes had darkened, and deep crevices appeared on his forehead.

&n
bsp; “I’m sorry I’ve been offering you alcohol at every turn. Tonight. Yesterday at the party. I made things hard for you.”

  “It’s okay. I am doing much better. I won’t waste my life again.”

  I expected sympathy, but the shine in his eyes was different. It looked like pride, although that was hard to believe.

  “You are strong, Anshi,” he said, his fingers caressing my cheek. Strong. No one had called me that. Trouble. Selfish. Weak. Yes, those were used to describe me. No one said I was strong.

  Something stirred in me, watching this beautiful man giving me words that fed my soul. “You don’t believe me. You think you’re weak, rotten from the inside.” His fingers traced the design of my tattoo on my arm again. “But that’s a lie. You have kept the best of yourself hidden, and I’m determined to uncover that side of you.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked harder to clear my glassy eyes. I wondered if he had any idea that a single green leaf survived from that dying tree and it was tattooed on my chest.

  “You expect too much from the likes of me. I am more trouble than it's worth,” I whispered. His hand paused at that. If I wasn’t looking, I would have missed the hard glint that flashed in his eyes.

  “I hate every person who made you feel like that with a passion.” His jaw ticked and he breathed slowly. “I don’t care about your past. but I damn well would show you off to the world, because you’re so worth it.” My cheeks heated up, and I looked away from the fire in his eyes. I forgot my past, focusing only on the feeling of being cherished by Ryan. He was as addictive as a drug, and as a recovered addict, I knew that was bad news. That sobered me immediately.

  “It’s late. I want to go to bed.” He watched me rise from the couch but his hand was still in mine. I pulled mine away unwillingly, immediately missing the warmth of his large, warm hands. He walked me to the bedroom door, and I lingered there with him.

  “I am so glad you agreed to stay here.” My eyes slid to his lips, where a faint smile lifted the sides, reminding me why it was so easy for women to fall for him.

  “I am glad you asked me to,” I responded, tearing my gaze away from his lips. I touched the side of his face, my fingers with a life of their own. His five o’clock shadow prickled the tips of my fingers and I reveled in the feeling. Our eyes met, but I shied away from the heat in his gaze. “Good night,” I said softly, and closed the door. I smiled at the deep sigh I heard from the other side of the door.

  15

  RYAN

  I woke up Monday morning to the sound of sizzling bacon. Again. Hands under my head, I smiled to myself. If the day before was any indication, poached eggs were next. Yesterday morning I was pleasantly surprised to find Anshi in the kitchen humming while preparing breakfast. With apartment hunting out of the way, we had the whole Sunday to ourselves. Dressed in a loose tee and shorts, she was engrossed in cooking. I watched her quietly for some time. Seeing her relaxed and happy wasn’t a common thing. But she was happy here, in my home. Somehow, that meant a lot to me.

  We spent the day at home. Anshi was mostly holed up in her room researching colors and furnishing for my house while I I worked on my presentation for the Jefferson conference.

  I pushed myself off the bed, and headed to take a shower. Shrugging into my suit jacket, I adjusted my blue tie when I heard Anshi.

  “Ryan, are you awake?” When I opened the door to my bedroom, Anshi was already dressed and waiting by the island. She had on a black work dress with her signature diamond studs and no necklace. Her hair fell in waves over her shoulder, shadowing her face.

  “You spoil me, woman,” I remarked as I took in the bacon, eggs and bread. She just smiled and poured herself a glass of juice.

  We ate quickly and I drove us to work. She didn’t look nervous, but there was a tinge of sadness as she eyed the couch in the lobby of the building on our way upstairs. That was where she had waited for me just a couple of days back.

  “I will be late tonight. So...see you at home?” She stood right outside my office.

  “You have plans tonight?” I asked, as I settled in my chair. I already missed her.

  “I’m planning to stop by the paint shop. I have to keep my end of the bargain. And...I was planning to shop for the gala. I didn’t exactly pack for a formal evening event when I left.” She rolled her eyes and adjusted her bag on her shoulder.

  “Sorry to mess up your calendar,” I said, and had the pleasure of watching her blush.

  The unappealing image of going without Anshi there blindsided me. How hard could shopping for a can of paint and dress be?

  “Actually, I’ll join you. You won’t be able to carry the paint and the dress alone anyway. We can grab dinner on our way back home.”

  She looked mildly surprised but agreed to the plan.

  “I...was thinking about what you said on Saturday…” She fidgeted and adjusted her bag again. “About trusting you enough.”

  “I will earn it, hopefully soon.” I hoped she understood I was serious about this. About us.

  “I trust you already, but I’m not yet ready yet to share everything about my past.”

  I walked slowly to where she stood, just outside the door.

  “Do I need to worry?” I wanted to hug her, erase her past, make her smile again, especially like she did when she was home with me.

  “Not really. Just tomorrow...at the gala. Will there be media?”

  “It’s a high-profile event. So...yeah.” I said.

  She nodded, looking at her shoes. “The media hasn’t been that good to me. I think my story sells better than my sister's successes.” She shrugged as if that wasn’t a big deal, but the way her shoulders hunched, I knew it cost her a lot to utter those words.

  “We don’t have to go.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “No. No. You have already done a lot for me. I don’t want you to cancel your plans. I just wanted to warn you that I might not be a very pleasant company tomorrow.” She swallowed, rubbing her neck. I stepped closer, and our eyes met.

  “I asked you for a date. It’s my job to entertain you, and I intend to make it the best date you’ve ever had.” I winked at her and her smile reached her eyes this time. “As for the media, I’ll figure something out.”

  “I know you will,” she said softly. “See you at 5.” I watched her settle at her desk before turning back to my office. Her worries bothered me. The media. She was hiding from the media at Arav’s engagement and his wedding. In fact, it felt as if she invested an enormous amount of her time and energy in being invisible. I never imagined media attention was one of the reasons. Promising myself I’d find out more about it once I got back home, I went back to work.

  Later that day, I found myself in a nightmare, comparing shades of colors that looked almost the same to me. The only fun part was the names of the shades. Ellie, Dorian, Repose, Cupola. Who named these colors, and why couldn’t they find more logical names like “Dark Gray,” or “Almost White gray”?

  And yet, Anshi not only remembered the names, she knew her gray shades intimately. She sauntered over to the color counter, picked up color shade cards and then, complimented them with a few other shade cards. It took close to an hour and a half to settle on a slightly darker gray shade that looked like...well,...dark gray, but Anshi insisted I call it “Colonnade” grey. I humored her because the naming debacle aside, I could watch choose colors for my home all day

  We walked out with two cans of paint and a promise that we’d come back for more.

  16

  Anshi

  Shopping for wall paint with Ryan shouldn’t have felt this special. He was lost in that store, and in awe of my “skills” with paint. It was hard not to feel special when every little thing I did impressed him. After spending almost a lifetime being a disappointment, Ryan’s little compliments made me giddy.

  We made our way through streets lined with big and small retail stores, with Ryan still lugging the paint cans.


  “Man, these cans are heavy.” He put them on the ground and massaged his hands. There were dark red lines in his palm where the thin metal handles met his skin. “I need to put the paints back in the car. Do you mind waiting, but not thinking about how weak I am in the meantime?”

  “Sure. It won’t make you any less manly to put them in the car.”

  “Good. I’m glad this won’t dim your view of my manliness.” He walked backwards in the direction of the car. “Be back soon. Just text me if you decide to go into a store.”

  I waved at him as he retreated. The car was parked a few blocks away, and I had at least a solid fifteen minutes alone. I looked around, taking stock of exactly where I was. I stood right in front of a boutique clothing store, the window mannequins flaunting silk dresses. A few colorful scarves were displayed as trophies that I needed to wrap around my neck to look posh.

  I sighed at the prospect of actually having to spend time in that store for tomorrow. I liked a party as much as the next girl, but the pressure of potentially being recognized exhausted me. Every time I met a new person, my instinct was always distrust. It was stressful to watch every word I spoke to ensure it didn’t turn in to media fodder.. Staying home was preferable. But things might be different with Ryan.

  I didn’t expect to have the courage to tell him my fears. I was glad he didn’t press me for more details, but I would have to share them with him soon. I could already imagine the headlines if we were seen together.

  Spoiled heiress finds new arm candy.

  Did Anshi Jain kiss the mystery man?

  Does billionaire dad approve of Anshi Jain’s new guy?

  I shook to clear my head. Perhaps it would be better this time and no one would notice. And I had to admit, Ryan had the ability to make disasters look okay. Every problem seemed smaller with him by my side.