Vegas to Varanasi (Fortytude Series Book 1)

by Hickman, Shelly

  I smile as a waiter stops and pours us some champagne. As I take a sip from my glass, the most stunning couple sits down at our table. I can’t decide who is more attractive. The woman reminds me of a movie star from old Hollywood, with wavy auburn hair that cascades down her shoulders and milky white skin I’m sure has never seen a pimple in its life.

  The man? My God, he takes my breath away! I have to avert my eyes because when I look at him, I just want to grin like an idiot, he’s so beautiful.

  I once had this same reaction when I was in college and had to take a summer geology class for a random science credit. I was not looking forward to the class because the study of dirt and groundwater didn’t exactly excite me. However, when the instructor, a grad student, walked in, I got a big, stupid grin on my face because he was so cute.

  That guy in no way compared to the specimen sitting across from me now. He looks Indian. Dark skin, luscious black hair with just a touch of grey, and the most amazing, sea green eyes. They might be the same color as mine, actually, but with my coloring, they’re nothing special. On him... holy hell!

  I must be forgetting to avert my eyes because Luke’s voice jars me. “Anna!” he whispers. “You do realize that you’re psychotically staring at that guy, don’t you? Because I’m pretty sure he notices.”

  The heat rises to my face, and I raise my glass to polish off my champagne. The man smiles politely at my show of bad manners.

  No one else is seated at the table with us, so Luke offers introductions. “Hello, I’m Luke and this is Anna.”

  “I’m Kiran, and this is Miranda,” the man replies. Miranda offers a curt nod, but is clearly bored with us already.

  “It’s nice to meet you both,” Luke says. “So how do you know the newlyweds?”

  The waiter returns to fill their glasses. “I’m not a fan of champagne,” Miranda says as she pulls a compact out of her Coach wristlet. “Could I have an amaretto sour?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Thank you,” Kiran says to the server, before he addresses Luke’s question. “I’m friends with the family of the groom, for about fifteen years now.”

  He must have grown up in the States, because I detect no accent when he speaks. “So you’ve known Jacob since he was a boy then. I hope you can vouch for his character,” I tease. “Luke and I have known the bride’s mother, Julia, since high school.”

  “Her daughter made a good choice,” he confirms solemnly, as if I were being serious.

  The waiter returns with Miranda’s drink and she takes a sip. “I don’t know what this is, but it’s not a vodka sour.” She sets the glass down in a huff.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I thought you said amaretto sour.” The waiter glances at each of us nervously.

  “Well, clearly you thought wrong. Would you please get it right next time?” She then wrinkles her nose at me and smiles.

  A roaring fills my ears, and I squeeze Luke’s knee to keep from saying something. He puts his hand over mine and pats it.

  Kiran leans over and whispers something in Miranda’s ear, and her smug expression turns to indignation. She says nothing in response, but shifts in her seat to create some distance between them.

  “I’m very sorry, ma’am,” the waiter says as he collects her glass. “I’ll get that vodka sour.”

  As he passes me I touch his arm to stop him. I put my hand against my mouth like I’m trying to be discreet, but make sure my voice is loud enough for her to hear. “She did ask for an amaretto sour.”

  I think Kiran stifles a chuckle.

  “Whatever,” Miranda says.

  Did she just say whatever?

  Luke mutters under his breath, “Could she be any more horrible?”

  “I don’t think so,” I answer at normal volume, looking straight at her with my fake smile. Then I make a show of taking the lip balm out of my Kohl’s Nine & Co. clutch, simply because I have the burning desire to repulse her with my mediocrity.

  We continue to make idle chat, and the minute it comes up that Luke and I are not an item, Miranda makes it her mission for the evening to sink her claws into him, making me wonder about her relationship with Kiran. It isn’t long before the rest of the guests assigned to our table show, making it more difficult for Miranda to flirt. However, it doesn’t deter her from speaking over the couple between her and Luke.

  Luke plays along, and I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s leading her to believe there will be some sort of fruit for her efforts, and even asks her to dance. He’s good. Very good.

  Kiran’s posture is relaxed and he doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed by Miranda’s behavior. In fact, he seems amused. We exchange polite smiles, and he points to Luke’s empty seat, asking if it’s okay to sit there. I nod in agreement.

  “Before I forget,” I say as he takes the seat beside me. “Would it be really out of line for me to ask what you said to Miranda after the amaretto sour incident?” Oh, wow. I realize I’m on my fourth glass of champagne, giving me the gumption to ask questions that are none of my damn business.

  “No, it would not be out of line at all.” Geezus. Those eyes. “All I said was there was no reason to be unkind.”

  “Thank you!” I hold up my knuckles for a fist bump. “You, sir, rock!”

  He seems a little uncertain of what I’m doing at first, then smiles and returns a fist. Sheesh. Even his teeth are perfect.

  “Well, as long as I’m being, let’s face it, really, really nosy, why don’t you seem to be upset that she’s all over my ex-husband?” Yeah, I’m definitely feeling the champagne.

  “Ah.” He looks back in her direction; she is now inappropriately close to Luke on the dance floor. “This is a blind date. A friend of my mother has been bugging her about setting me up with her daughter. I’ve never even met her before tonight, but it didn’t take long to discover we weren’t going to hit it off.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  That was a quick change of subject and my faculties are a bit dulled. I pinch my eyebrows together. “I’m sorry?”

  “From high school. You don’t remember me.”

  I’m pretty sure I have a look of panic on my face because apparently all night I’ve been speaking to someone I knew in high school, and I don’t even have the decency to remember him.

  “I’m sorry,” I say for the umpteenth time, “but Kiran isn’t exactly a common name. I think I would remember... Wait. Now that I think about it, there was a Kiran in my English Lit class junior year, but he was this quiet, kind of pudgy...”

  Kiran smiles and raises his eyebrows before nodding ever so slightly.

  Inadvertently, I gasp and put my hand over my mouth. “No way!”

  “You remember. You do remember me!” The pleasure in his voice surprises me.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to call you pudgy!” I. Am. Mortified.

  “It’s okay, Anna. Actually, I was fat.” He takes another sip of champagne.

  I can’t help but giggle at his directness. “No, no you weren’t. I admit I don’t remember a whole lot about you. You were soooo quiet! We did speak a few times though, didn’t we?”

  “A few times. But do you know what I remember about you?” Briefly, he taps the top of my hand with his finger.

  “Oh, God no.” I suck in some air between my teeth and scrunch up my face, praying it won’t be something embarrassing. “What do you remember?”

  “There was this guy in our class, Mark. Big, muscle-bound jock.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, and my pet name for him was asshole.” Kiran laughs and rubs his chin. I look over his shoulder to see Luke and Miranda slow dancing, and she’s girlishly fiddling with his tie. Boy, is she in for a surprise. I return my gaze to Kiran. “Sorry. Continue.”

  “Well, Mark was always making mean comments to me about my glasses, my weight.” I do sort of remember that. He sat behind Kiran, and I sat next to Mark. “One day he was at it again, and you told
him to give it a rest. And he said, ‘What about it? He’s a whale!’ Then you said, ‘And you’re a dick.’”

  I nearly spit out my drink. I have no recollection of this incident. “I said that?”

  “Yes. Yes, you did. And I had a huge crush on you from that day forward.”

  Oh, no he did-unt! This Adonis had a crush on me? Inconceivable! Yes, I know. He wasn’t an Adonis back then, but still...

  “Wow. It’s amazing the things I don’t remember. Luke brings up stuff from school all the time and I have no clue what he’s talking about, so please don’t take offense.”

  “None taken.”

  We sit in silence, and it’s a little uncomfortable because I’m facing the dance floor, but he’s facing me, so he doesn’t really have anywhere to look but at me. Come on, Anna. Think of something else to say.

  We both start speaking at once.

  I laugh. “It’s okay. You go.”

  “I was just wondering if you would like to dance.”

  If a fast song were playing, like the Chicken Dance or something, I would probably accept. Not that I enjoy doing the Chicken Dance with a tremendously gorgeous man, but given that it’s a slow dance, I don’t think it would be appropriate.

  “I’m actually involved with someone, so I would feel kind of weird.”

  “Oh!” he says with surprise. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I wave my hand. “You had no way of knowing.”

  “So your boyfriend? Husband...?”

  “Boyfriend,” I answer.

  “Your boyfriend is okay that you’re so close with your ex?” I’m not the least bit put off by his question, but before I can answer he says, “That was none of my business. I apologize. And I didn’t mean for that to sound as sexist as it came out.”

  “Apologies aren’t needed. It’s a perfectly normal question.”

  “No, really. I can’t believe how bad that sounded.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder and playfully shake him a bit. “Relax! It wasn’t any worse than the questions I pummeled you with the minute you came over here.” I lean back in my chair and notice the headache I’m beginning to get for going past drink three. “Anyway, there’s a reason my boyfriend’s okay with it. A reason that Miranda will not be pleased with.”

  Kiran says nothing, but eyes me quizzically.

  “He’s gay.”

  “Luke?”

  I grin widely, probably a bit sadistically, and nod.

  Just then, Luke and Miranda return to our table, with Miranda holding onto his arm with both hands as if she’s afraid I’m going to snatch away her little toy.

  “Have fun?” I ask.

  “Absolutely!” Luke says. “And you?” His eyes are big, and I spy a little smirk on his face.

  I scowl briefly. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Kiran, Miranda, I hope you don’t mind if I have a dance with my first love,” Luke says as he extends his hand to me.

  Oh, Miranda minds. She minds a lot!

  “Of course,” Kiran says. “Go right ahead.” Maybe it’s my imagination, but I swear his eyes linger on mine before I take Luke’s hand and walk away.

  I feel bad for leaving Kiran with that horrid woman, who now drapes her arm around him.

  “Well, how entertaining was that?” I say once we’re on the dance floor. “Leading on that poor lass when she doesn’t have a chance in hell.”

  “It was quite entertaining, actually.” We dance in silence for a few moments before he says, “What did you and Kiran talk about?”

  “Nothing much.” I shrug. “Did you know he went to school with us?”

  “Really. Don’t think I knew him, but you seem to be hitting it off with him pretty well.”

  “Mmm hmm.” I pretend to be absorbed in the other couples who are dancing. “He’s very nice.”

  “That’s it? He’s very nice?” He pulls away so he can look into my face.

  “What? He’s nice.”

  “And he’s not easy on the eyes at all. C’mon, Anna. I’d be going after that if Richard wasn’t in the picture.”

  “Okay, so he’s a little good-looking.” We both start laughing at the absurdity of that comment. “Oh, my God, he is perfection!”

  “So what’s he doing with that nightmare?” He motions back to the table. “Yeah, she’s gorgeous, but no amount of gorgeous is worth that!”

  “They’re on a blind date.”

  We both watch them for a few seconds. Kiran is speaking with the gentleman next to him, while Miranda has her back to him and checks her phone.

  Luke turns back to me. “He is clearly smitten with you.”

  “What? No he is not!”

  The music picks up at the perfect moment to interrupt our conversation, and what does the D.J. play? “Melt With You”. I joyously step out of my heels because my poor feet can tolerate them no longer, and I set them down in the corner of the dance floor. Then I dance back toward Luke. The floor is pretty crowded so I have to weave my way back in.

  Luke wraps his arm around my waist and takes my hand, and we’re singing to each other, looking quite ridiculous, I’m sure. He’s twirling me and I know we’re not the least bit graceful or smooth, but we don’t give a crap because we’re having fun. It feels like it was just yesterday we were sixteen, dancing like this, and that Billy Idol wannabe who was always at the club was gyrating alongside us.

  Then something terrible happens. I get all nostalgic, and I start thinking about the fact that, back when we enjoyed this song, there was still the hope of Luke loving me the same way I loved him. Don’t you do it, Anna. Don’t you get weepy now!

  But it’s too late. Luke can already see it in my face and my eyes start to burn. I force a smile, trying to laugh at myself. Knowing what this is about because he knows me better than anyone, he pulls me into his arms and holds me. As we slowly sway to the music, I look up at the white lights beneath the canopy. My backup plan for crying at inappropriate moments. Look up, so the tears go back in, not out.

  Five

  I enter the house quietly, not sure if David is already asleep. Of course, he isn’t. The light from the office casts down the hallway, and I poke my head in the door to see him at his laptop, as usual.

  “Hey,” I say quietly.

  “Hey.” He turns my way. “Wow! You look great. How was the wedding?”

  “It was fun.” I walk over behind him and put my arms around his chest. Then I run my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. “Will you be coming to bed soon?”

  He closes his tired eyes and leans back in his chair. He loves it when I rub his head. “Soon. I’m just in the middle of something and don’t want to lose my train of thought, okay?”

  I notice the glass of Merlot on the desk and drop my hands to my sides. He opens his eyes and sees me staring at it. “It’s only my second glass. I’ll be coming to bed within a half hour. I promise.”

  I bend over and kiss him. “Okay. I missed you tonight.”

  “Me, too.” He smiles. “Wait up for me?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  I head to the bathroom to wash off my makeup and brush my teeth before crawling into bed. After waiting nearly an hour, I drift off to sleep.

  I wake the next morning and breathe a sigh of disappointment that David didn’t keep his promise. He’s lying beside me with his arm over my stomach, out for the count.

  I slide from underneath him and slip on my flip flops. If I don’t remember to put on shoes while walking on the laminate floors, my feet get really dirty and gross. Okay, so I’m not the best housekeeper, but living in a dust bowl makes it harder yet.

  After I get my cup of coffee started in the Keurig, I open the refrigerator to check how much Merlot is left.

  Most of the bottle is intact. Good. But honestly, I’m not sure if we had more than that to begin with, and I don’t have any way of knowing if he drank some kind of hard liquor as well. This is going to be impossib
le.

  It’s late morning, and I decide to call Julia to find out how the rest of the evening went. I didn’t have much opportunity to talk to her last night; she was so busy playing hostess.

  “Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No, but I’m still trying to rise from the dead,” Julia says groggily.

  “Everything was beautiful. The food was delicious! Did Katherine and Jacob get off okay?”

  “I know what you meant, like take off for their honeymoon, but that sounded really weird.”

  “Ewww!” I stir some milk into my coffee. “Maybe it was a Freudian slip, since it’s been at least a couple of weeks since David and I have gotten off.”

  She laughs. “I’m sorry to hear that. Any more drinking binges?”

  I take my mug into the living room, sit down on the couch, and put my feet up. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

  “Good. So who was that I saw you talking with last night, and where can I get his number?”

  “It was your own daughter’s reception. Weren’t you supposed to know who everyone was?”

  “Did you see how many people were there? If they weren’t one of Kat’s guests, I had no clue. Actually, there were several people that she invited and I still couldn’t tell you who they were. You know I’m terrible with names!”

  Trixie trots up, wagging her tail and wiggling her butt, reminding me that I haven’t pet her hello this morning. She’s a pit-greyhound mix I got at the shelter three years ago. I scratch her ears, and she immediately falls on her back, inviting me to rub her tummy.

  “His name is Kiran,” I say to Julia’s question. “He was a guest of Jacob’s side of the family, but he actually went to high school with us.”

  “You’re kidding! How weird is that? I’m pretty sure I would remember him.”

  “He didn’t look like that in high school. He was among us mortals back in those days. But the funny thing is, he remembered me because I told off some guy who teased him all the time. I’d forgotten all about it.”