The One She Was Warned About

by Shoma Narayanan

  ‘Right now,’ Shweta said firmly, and escaped to the corner where Priya was busy demolishing a heap of sweetmeats.

  ‘What happened to your diet?’ Shweta asked in mock-horror. Only the week before, Priya had embarked on an oil-free, sugar-free, practically food-free diet.

  Priya shrugged happily. ‘The diet’s on vacation,’ she said. ‘This stuff is way too good to resist. Where’s that hunk of a childhood friend of yours? I thought you’d finally seen the light when I saw you go off with him, but here you are back with Siddy-boy.’

  ‘Don’t call him Siddy-boy,’ Shweta said, feeling annoyed with Priya. ‘And I just spent the morning with Nikhil—we had a lot of stuff to catch up on. I didn’t “go off” with him.’

  ‘“Catching up”? How boring,’ Priya said, making a face. ‘If you aren’t interested the least you could do is introduce me to him properly—he’s sooooo hot...’

  ‘And you’re so not available,’ Shweta said, getting even more annoyed. ‘You have a steady boyfriend, remember?’

  ‘Someone’s getting jea-lous,’ Priya carolled, and Shweta longed to hit her.

  ‘Lunch over?’ a familiarly sexy voice asked.

  She turned to almost cannon into Nikhil. ‘Yes,’ she said ungraciously, wondering how much he had heard. Priya had a rather strident voice, and she hadn’t bothered to keep it low.

  ‘Sorry I had to rush off like that,’ he said. ‘Anjalika has this habit of creating problems halfway through an event.’

  ‘No worries,’ she said, sounding fake even to her own ears. It was a phrase she’d picked up from Siddhant, and she found herself using it whenever she didn’t know how to react to something. Then natural curiosity got the better of her and she asked, ‘Did she want more money?’

  Nikhil looked nonplussed for a few seconds, and then he started laughing. ‘I can see the team’s been talking. Yes, she did. But she isn’t going to get it.’

  The team had been saying a lot, she thought. But, looking at Nikhil, she couldn’t believe that he’d trade sexual favours for a reduction in Anjalika’s fee. That was as bad as being a gigolo—worse, probably, because he didn’t need to seduce older women for money.

  ‘Don’t look so horrified,’ Nikhil said, tweaking a stray strand of hair that had escaped from the barrette she’d used to tie it back. ‘This business is like that. There’s a lot of last-minute haggling, and you can lose all your profits if you’re not careful to tie people down with water-tight contracts before you begin.’

  Forgetting the fact that pulling her hair was anything but a lover-like gesture, Shweta’s relief at the businesslike way he spoke was overwhelming. She’d been right all along then—his team had just been gossiping.

  ‘Nikhil, the resort manager would like to speak to you,’ Payal called out.

  Nikhil made an exasperated gesture. ‘I’ll see you in the evening, then,’ he said to Shweta.

  Priya made a disappointed face once he’d left. ‘Very brisk and practical, that was,’ she said. ‘D’you think there’s something wrong with you? I was hoping you were on the verge of a mad fling with him, but you talk to him like he’s your cousin or something. No chemistry at all.’

  ‘Perhaps I’m more of a physics and geography kind of girl,’ Shweta retorted. ‘Grow up, Priya. Not every woman goes on heat when she sees a good-looking man.’

  Siddhant had come up in time to hear the latter part of her sentence and he looked completely scandalised. Good job, too, Shweta thought spitefully as she refused his offer of a lift back to the hotel.

  ‘I’ll go in the bus with Priya,’ she said. ‘I’m sick of sitting around while you talk shop with the other partners.’

  No chemistry. Perhaps Priya was right and she was imagining things, Shweta thought as she leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the bus window. There was that kiss, though, and the way he’d looked at her when they were watching the boat race...

  ‘Siddy-boy didn’t know what had hit him,’ Priya said gleefully as she took the seat next to her. Evidently she’d forgiven Shweta for the bitchy comment about not all women being like her. ‘He was so sure you’d be thrilled at being offered a seat in that stuffy old van with him and the other partners. There’s hope for you yet.’

  Shweta shrugged. ‘I was irritated, and I said it without thinking. I’ll end up apologising when I see him again.’

  Priya looked disappointed. ‘Don’t—that’ll spoil everything,’ she said. ‘Stay away from him a bit so that he gets the message. You’re definitely off him, aren’t you?’

  Shweta nodded. Priya was as sharp as a needle, and there was no point trying to hide it from her. Far better that she used her rusty dissembling skills to conceal the fact that she was helplessly attracted to Nikhil.

  ‘I don’t know what you saw in him in the first place,’ Priya said. ‘You’re smart and you’re good-looking—you can do a lot better for yourself.’

  ‘Like who?’ Shweta asked dryly. ‘Men aren’t exactly queuing up asking for my hand in marriage. If I decided to hold a swayamvara, I’d probably have to pay people to come.’

  Priya shrugged. In her view marriage was vastly overrated—but then, she’d spent the last six years fending off offers of marriage from several men, including her long-term boyfriend. She gave Shweta a considering look. ‘You know what your problem is?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me,’ Shweta replied.

  ‘You treat all men like they’re your buddies. So then they treat you like “one of the boys” and everything goes downhill from there. You need to build an aura—some mystique.’ Priya gesticulated madly. ‘Or, if all else fails, some good old-fashioned sex appeal would do the trick.’

  Shweta shrugged. She’d long ago come to terms with the fact that, unlike Helen of Troy, whose beauty had launched a thousand ships, hers would only be able to float a paper boat or two. She was good-looking enough—lots of people had told her that—but men regularly bypassed her to fall for less good-looking but sexier girls. Not that it had ever bothered her much. Until meeting Nikhil again she hadn’t felt the pull of strong sexual attraction. She’d just assumed it was something that people had made up to sell romantic novels and movies.

  ‘I’ve booked us into the spa for a massage and a steam bath,’ Priya said after a while. ‘I forgot to tell you.’

  Shweta shook her head. ‘Take one of the other girls instead,’ she said. ‘I’m going for a swim.’

  * * *

  It was almost six when they got back to the hotel, and the pool was thankfully deserted. Everyone who’d managed to get a spa booking was headed there, and the rest were in the bar at the other end of the property. Shweta ran up to her room to change into her swimsuit, and was back at the pool in a few minutes.

  The water was perfect, warm and welcoming, and she automatically felt herself relax as she got in. She did the first few laps at a brisk pace, working off the day’s confusion and angst as she cleaved through the water. After a while, however, she flipped over, floating aimlessly on her back as she looked up at the sky. The sun was about to set, and the sky was a mass of lovely red-gold and purple clouds. Looking at it, she felt her troubles seep away.

  A muted splash told her that someone else had joined her in the water, but she didn’t turn to see who it was. Only when the sun set fully and the sky faded to a dull steel-grey did she swim to the side of the pool.

  ‘You’ll shrivel up like a prune if you stay in the water any longer,’ Nikhil remarked.

  A sixth sense had already told her who her silent companion was, and she didn’t turn her head to look at him. ‘Stalker,’ she said in amiable tones. She felt in her element while she was in the pool, and more than equal to dealing with her old classmate.

  He was by her side in a few swift strokes. ‘What did you say?’ he asked
, playfully threatening her with a ducking.

  ‘You don’t even like swimming,’ she said. ‘You told me yesterday.’

  ‘Depends who I’m swimming with.’ The lights around the pool had come on, and his eyes skimmed over her appreciatively. ‘Looking pretty good, Ms Mathur.’

  She was wearing a much-used one-piece black swimsuit—but in spite of its age it clung faithfully to her slim curves. He could hardly take his eyes off her. Her wet hair hung down her back, and little drops of water were rolling down her neck and into her cleavage as she leaned against the side of the pool. Involuntarily, he raised a hand and trailed it down the side of the arm nearest him.

  Shweta shivered in response, slipping back into the water before he could do more. She’d got a good look at him, and he looked pretty irresistible himself. His body lived up to if not exceeded the expectations it had aroused when he was fully clothed—all washboard abs, lean muscle and sinewy arms. He looked more like a professional athlete than a businessman. His damp hair flopped just so over his forehead, dripping into his deep-set eyes and he had just the right hint of devilry in his expression—all in all, Shweta thought, she could be forgiven for thinking him pretty irresistible.

  ‘Well?’ he asked, treading water next to her. ‘Are you done practising for the Olympics? Can we get out before I catch my death of cold?’

  ‘It’s not cold at all,’ Shweta said, but she swam to the side of the pool. It was difficult to hold a conversation with her ears full of water, and she didn’t mean to try.

  Outside the pool, Nikhil looked even more impressive, towering over her as she got out of the water. He took her hand to help her out and a jolt of electricity seemed to pass from his body to hers. Realising that she was staring up at him dumbly, Shweta made as if to step away—Nikhil, however, took her by the shoulders and pulled her against his body. Slowly, he lowered his head to hers, but just when she thought he was about to kiss her he pulled away.

  ‘Someone’s coming,’ he said. ‘You’d better go and change. I’ll see you back here in fifteen minutes, OK?’

  It took her ten minutes to shower, change into shorts and a sleeveless tee and get back to the poolside. He was waiting there for her, standing with his back to the pool. He’d changed as well, into khaki shorts and a white T-shirt. His hair was still damp, and as she came up he tossed the towel he’d been holding on to a deckchair.

  ‘I’m leaving tonight,’ he said abruptly. ‘I’ll see you in Mumbai soon—we have that dinner date, remember?’

  Shweta felt quite absurdly disappointed. ‘Are you leaving right away?’

  He nodded. ‘Almost. It’s a long way to the airport. I wanted to say goodbye, and I realised we haven’t exchanged numbers.’

  ‘I don’t have a piece of paper,’ she said. ‘And my mobile’s back in my room.’

  ‘Tell me your number. I’ll memorise it, and I’ll call you when I’m on my way to the airport,’ he said. ‘I’m not carrying my mobile either.’

  Shweta told him her number and he listened carefully, repeating it back to her to make sure he’d got it right.

  ‘So...I’ll call you, then,’ he said, turning to climb the stairs that led to the hotel.

  Shweta gazed after him in disbelief, and then ran up the stairs to overtake him. ‘Just a minute,’ she said. ‘When you say you’ll call me and we’ll go out for dinner, is that like a date, or something? Because I’m a little confused—you kissed me on the boat, and you were about to kiss me just now, if someone hadn’t come along. But the rest of the time you act like I’m your old buddy from school—not that I was your buddy. We used to fight all the time, except in kindergarten. Actually, that’s the last time I was able to figure out what you’re up to—when we were in kindergarten. You’ve grown more and more complicated...’

  Nikhil’s brow creased with concentration as he tried to keep up and failed. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said finally.

  Shweta shook her head in exasperation. ‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘I’m making a muddle of things as usual.’

  ‘No—rewind a bit and let me understand this.’

  His eyes were amused and caressing as he looked at her, and she felt her knees go just a little bit wobbly.

  ‘You think I’m asking you out because I want to be your buddy?’

  ‘Something like that,’ she muttered—and gave an undignified little squawk as she was efficiently swept into his arms.

  ‘A buddy?’ Nikhil said. ‘Hmm, that’s an idea. Purely platonic, right?’

  Shweta could feel her heart hammering, and pressed so close against his chest she was sure he could feel it too. When he bent his head to kiss her lips she tensed, going rigid in his arms. He kissed her very lightly, as if just tasting her lips, but when she unconsciously leaned towards him the kiss grew harder, more demanding. The sensation was exquisite, and Shweta felt positively bereft when he drew away.

  She took a couple of quick breaths. ‘Not purely platonic, then?’ she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady.

  ‘Not platonic,’ he said, and his slow, incredibly sexy smile set her heart pounding away like a trip-hammer on steroids. ‘That OK with you?’

  It was more than OK, but Shweta couldn’t say so without sounding impossibly over-keen. Trying to play it cool, she gave him a flippant smile. ‘I can live with it,’ she said—and gasped as he pulled her close for another scorching-hot kiss.

  ‘I’ll see you in Mumbai, then,’ he said.

  And before she could gather her senses enough to reply he was off.

  Shweta watched him stride into the hotel. So much for there being no chemistry between them, she thought as a feeling of pure euphoria swept over her. Somewhere at the back of her head she knew that she shouldn’t rush into a relationship blindly, but just now she wanted to enjoy the moment without bothering about the future.

  FOUR

  It was more than two weeks after she’d returned to Mumbai that Shweta managed to meet Nikhil for dinner. He’d been out of town for a few days, and then she’d had a project to finish within some pretty crazy deadlines. After that, she’d gone down to Pune to meet her dad and her aunt. Now that she was finally back Nikhil had reserved a table at a rather swanky new restaurant at the Mahalakshmi race course for Saturday evening.

  ‘Where are you off to?’ Priya asked, lounging on her bed as Shweta made yet another attempt to get her eyeliner on straight.

  ‘Nowhere special.’ She wasn’t sure why she was keeping her dinner date with Nikhil a secret, but she hadn’t told Priya earlier and it would be more than a little embarrassing to tell her now. ‘I’m meeting a couple of old college friends for drinks, and we might go out for dinner afterwards.’

  ‘Can I come with you?’ Priya asked. ‘Rahul’s out of town, and I’m so bored... Maybe one of your college friends could help cheer me up?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Shweta said, shooting Priya an amused glance over her shoulder. ‘They’re not your type, and we have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll tell you what—I’ll lend you some of my DVDs. You can watch a nice movie.’

  ‘You have rubbish taste in movies,’ Priya said moodily, going over to the drawer where Shweta kept her DVD collection. ‘It’s all such grim, arty stuff—no chick flicks, and you don’t even have a good action movie in this lot.’ She watched Shweta as she outlined her mouth with lipliner and proceeded to colour it in with lipstick.

  ‘You’re meeting a guy,’ she said. Shweta glared at her as she broke into a wide smile.

  ‘Of course—that’s why you don’t want me to come along! I haven’t seen you make so much effort over your face in months, and you changed in and out of three dresses before you chose this one. Who is it?’

  ‘No one you know,’ Shweta said, slamming her make-up drawer shut and squirting a last bit of perfume over herself.


  ‘Nonsense. I know everything about you.’ Priya thought for a bit. ‘I know! It’s that hottie from the Kerala trip. What was his name again? Naveen? Nirav? No—Nikhil. That’s it—you’re meeting Nikhil, aren’t you?’

  Despite herself, Shweta felt a warm tide of colour stain her cheeks.

  Priya crowed with delight. ‘I knew it! I knew something was happening. Come here and let me look at you—a special date needs some special advice.’

  Shweta submitted to being examined from every angle. Priya had a good sense of style, and it wouldn’t hurt to take her opinion.

  ‘Pretty good,’ she pronounced finally. ‘Except you could do with a little more colour in your cheeks. And I can’t believe you didn’t buy a new dress. This one’s nice, but you’ve worn it lots of times before.’

  ‘Nikhil’s not seen it,’ Shweta pointed out as she warded off Priya’s attempts to put some more blusher on her cheeks. ‘I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.’

  She gave herself a last look in the mirror. The midnight-blue dress was deceptively simple in cut and it showed off her curves to perfection. She wore a simple diamond pendant on a white-gold chain with matching earrings, and her shoes—as usual—were the exact shade of the dress.

  ‘Are the shoes a bit much?’ she asked anxiously.

  Priya hesitated. ‘A little too matching-matching, but that’s OK—guys never notice such stuff.’

  But Shweta was already kicking the shoes off, exchanging them for strappy silver sandals.

  The intercom rang, and Priya ran to pick it up. ‘Your cab’s here,’ she said.

  Shweta had called for a taxi rather than hailing a black-and-yellow cab on the street as she usually did. It was normally a half-hour drive from where she lived to the race course, but a mixer truck had broken down in the middle of the road and the traffic was terrible. In spite of that, she got there a few minutes early. Nikhil wasn’t there yet, and they had arranged to meet for a drink at the bar before they went down for dinner.