Unraveled (Jersey Girls Book 1)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  Satish looked down and busied himself with pulling the plastic tags off of his brand-new and first ever baseball cap. “You make me feel that good.” He still didn’t look at her.

  “Do I?” She started to walk toward the far end of the ledge that hung over the city, but she turned back halfway. “I’m glad, Satish,” she called out before turning away again, laughing. Satish watched her skip nimbly up the stairs to the top level and pull her sunglasses back down onto her face.

  That was it, he’d decided. He would not tell her. He would not encourage this any further, but he would not tell her. Satish would continue to be her friend, and when he returned to India next week, he would have a long conversation with his father. It didn’t mean he would not marry, but he needed some time to think—to figure out how his feelings for Claire did or did not change things.

  He needed time to figure out how he felt about a lot of things. Meeting Claire had opened up a hidden vault in his mind that had sealed within it all these unanswered questions. He’d been an expert at ignoring them, until now. Satish decided he would ask his father for time. He had never asked for anything before, and this was a simple request, so surely he could not deny it.

  25

  Claire

  “Are you worried about what they’ll think at work?” Claire asked. They were sitting in a sidewalk café in front of Copacabana Beach, sharing a giant plate of ribs and fries, caipirinhas in hand.

  Satish ignored her question. “If I didn’t trust you, I would suspect that you were trying to get me drunk. I am not at all a drinker, and these limey things are potent, to say the least.”

  “Limey things,” Claire pointed at Satish and giggled.

  Satish looked at her, confused. “What?”

  “Well, aren’t you a limey? Isn’t that what they call Brits?”

  “I think you are drunk, already. I am not a Brit!”

  “Close enough,” she used her thumb and pinky to pull a stack of napkins out of the metal container on the table. “Anyway, don’t change the subject. I asked you if you were worried about what they’re going to think at work, especially since Nadia knows I am still here.” She looked up at Satish’s amused face. How lucky she was to be sitting across from this beautiful beach, enjoying a decadent meal with this gorgeous man. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was also amazing—and he liked her! Since his surprising admission on the top of the mountain, she’d had a warm glow in her stomach, accompanied by a flutter of excitement every time she looked at him. She still couldn’t believe he had said that.

  Satish still didn't answer her question.

  Claire thought back to the stress of the last forty-eight hours. After Satish had rescued her from the airport, she had gone back to her room, telling Satish she needed to take a nap, but she had called Sally before she’d even put her bag down. Something had happened to her on the way back to the hotel. In the middle of feeling so relieved and awed by Satish’s magical appearance, she had been surprised by a wave of irritation—almost anger. Who did he think he was to put her through all of this and then show up like some white knight? She’d needed him last night, not today. Where had he been last night? How could he have believed, even for a second, that she would kiss that revolting snake?

  “Claire, sometimes you are so annoying!” said Sally when she had spilled it all out to her. “You are about to wreck your entire meeting story romance because of pride. Get over it! He came and got you, didn’t he? I’m sorry, but if I walked in on Tod kissing some guy in an elevator, I would never come and rescue him the next morning. I would kick him out for at least a week, and then—”

  “That is not what you said last night!” Claire had interrupted. “There was a time when, if a guy didn’t deliver your expected behavior in the exact order you had decided he should give it to you, you would scratch him out of your little, black book forever. What’s happened to you?” Claire had begun to feel the snake of her anger uncoil a little.

  “Yeah, well, guess what Tod taught me, Claire? He taught me that men are human beings. Can you believe that? All these years, I thought men were some other species you couldn’t expect a whole lot from, except to understand the game and play it the way you wanted them to. Well, they cry, sometimes. Did you know that? Not at, like, people dying, either, but even at movies! Did you know men cried at movies?”

  Claire had laughed out loud, the sound echoing off of the cool marble floors. Claire went to the balcony and opened the windows to feel the real air sweep in.

  “Yes, I did know that, Sally. I have been telling you that there were real men out there for years, but I guess it took discovering an actual real man to make you believe it.”

  “The point is, my dear, that Satish has apologized and expressed his feelings for you in his own quiet way. Do you realize what a major big deal it is for him to stay in Rio with you? I mean, he’s going to have to tell the people at work that he is staying, and Nadia knows you are still there. That bitch!” Sally had raised her voice in anger. “That’s it, by the way—she is officially cut off. I don’t care if I am a social outcast now, anyway—I have Tod. I am never going to speak to her again. Anyway, my point is that Satish must know this situation will start the rumor mill churning, yet he is willing to go through all of that to make it up to you.”

  Claire had said goodbye to Sally and walked back into the room to hang up the phone. Yep, she’d thought, he’s a keeper! There’s something he’s not telling me, though.

  Now, as she sat opposite him, dipping her fries in mayo and sipping her drink, she wondered if she was about to find out what that was.

  Claire forced her attention back to their sidewalk table in Rio. Rio de Janeiro, she thought to herself reverently. She still couldn’t believe she was here.

  Satish looked at her thoughtfully and finally answered her question. “Why would I be worried about that? Everyone knows I am a man of integrity. They may not know me personally, but they understand my values. I don’t believe anyone would question my motives.”

  “I think you underestimate Nadia,” Claire said. “She is a nasty and dangerous woman. You also underestimate Nick. He has it out for me, now.”

  Satish pushed the plate with the last French fry across the table toward her and sipped his drink. “I wouldn’t worry about Nadia—I have taken care of that. I also plan on doing something about the Nick situation, but it will take time, and it will need to wait until I get back home.”

  “Okay, I won’t ask,” Claire said. “How is Nandita doing, by the way? Did you persuade your father to let her marry her one true love? You never told me what you decided to do, but I know you wouldn’t want her to be unhappy and would want her to have some choices in her life,” she said accusingly, smiling to let him know she was joking—well, partially joking, anyway.

  Satish frowned. “I need to tell you something. Will you promise to let me finish before you say anything?”

  She put down the fry she was about to stuff into her mouth and looked at him seriously. This was it, and it didn’t sound good. Her heart sank a little as she realized she might have rushed to judgment. Just because Satish had said she made him feel good didn’t mean he liked her as more than a friend or a little sister.

  26

  Satish

  Satish watched the color drain from Claire’s face as she lowered her French fry and settled her gaze on his, her liquid green eyes looking as though they could melt at any minute. He cleared his throat and looked around him. He wanted to make sure he expressed himself clearly—he didn’t want those liquid eyes to spill over.

  Just then, a dirt-smudged boy of about eight crashed into the railing behind him and either apologized or swore in Portuguese. Satish gave him the benefit of the doubt and smiled; the boy kicked his skateboard back into the air, caught it deftly, stuck out his tongue, and rode off. Claire burst into laughter, piercing a hole through the tension that had descended on their table.

  “I never watched anyone laugh before I met you,”
Satish said. “I don’t know why I didn’t. I don’t know why I never talked on the phone all hours of the night, and I don’t know why I never crept away from my exhaustion for a ten-minute coffee break.” He reached across the table and gently took Claire’s hand. “Do you know that I have been to Rio three times before?” Claire shook her head and he felt her tiny hand tighten in a gesture of encouragement. “I never noticed the favelas on the way in from the airport. I never stood on my balcony and admired the stunning beauty of this city. I never walked on the beach, and I never drank a caipirinha.” He paused. “Claire, I have never felt as angry as I felt last night when I saw you in the elevator with Nick. It was blind rage.”

  Claire flushed, “Satish, I…”

  “No, wait, Claire—I need to finish. I want to make sure this comes out correctly. Being around you and having your friendship has changed me. I notice things. I feel things that I never have. I liked being angry; I liked experiencing it for the first time. I don’t make any sense, do I?”

  He looked up at Claire who nodded vigorously, but kept her lips firmly pressed together in a white line that was once a full rose pink. Satish burst out laughing, and she followed suit, tears of mirth pouring from her eyes. “Do you know how hard it is for me not to talk?” She wiped her eyes with a napkin, and Satish laughed even harder when a smear of barbecue sauce appeared across her cheek. He reached out and wiped it off with his thumb.

  “There’s something else, though.” Satish stopped talking and absentmindedly wiped crumbs from the table before he looked up at her again. “I want to ask you a question,” he breathed in deeply, “and I would greatly appreciate it if you could just answer and then let me tell you something. Is that okay?” She nodded, and Satish watched her lips turn white again. “You are beautiful, Claire, and exciting, and one of the most caring people I know. I think these things you make me feel mean something.” He paused and took another deep breath, feeling a flutter of nervousness as he considered that what he was about to say could drive her away forever. “I want to be friends. Is that something that appeals to you?”

  Claire burst out laughing. “'Something that appeals to me? Satish, you crack me up. Yes, it appeals to me, but I thought that we were friends, already?” Claire leaned forward, across the rickety table; it, wobbled and she grabbed his other hand to steady herself. She planted her elbows in the middle of the yellow and white plastic tablecloth, narrowly avoiding getting barbecue sauce on her sundress, as Satish hastily pushed the rib plate to the side. He gripped her hands harder and willed himself not to kiss her, although her green eyes were flashing only inches from his, and her creamy cleavage was in his main line of sight. He focused on her eyes, though.

  “I am crazy about you, Satish! You are intelligent, noble, and kind. I love every minute we spend together, and I want to learn everything about you, so being your friend definitely appeals to me, doofus.”

  Claire’s eyes flashed bright and her joy was palpable. Satish squashed it with a firm hand, though. Although thrilled by what Claire was saying, he was suddenly terrified of what he had started.

  “Stop!” The harshness with which he had been berating himself had flown out of his mouth before he considered how it might sound. Claire bumped back into her seat hard, her joy collapsed. He hastily squeezed her hands tighter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. You cannot imagine how happy I am to hear you say those things. It’s just… I have a problem.” Her forehead scrunched up and he so badly wanted to reach out and smooth those wrinkles. Why was it that he always wanted to be touching her? He continued, “It’s a problem that I am not yet sure how to deal with, and I need some time. Can you give me some time? Can we continue with this amazing, beautiful friendship until I get things sorted out? I don’t want to start something… I mean, I want to make sure that I am in the right place to…”

  “It’s okay,” she interrupted, and this time he was thankful for it. “I can wait. If you have something you need to deal with, that’s fine. I will be your friend for as long as it takes until you are ready.” She then looked at him with an impish grin, “On one condition.”

  “Anything!” he said.

  “You take me dancing tonight!”

  She was obviously trying to help them move away from the tension, but dancing? “Anything but that,” he said.

  “No, that,” she insisted. Claire jumped up from her chair and pulled Satish to stand. “After we go for a walk on the beach, of course.”

  The waiter hurried to their table, check in hand. He went to hand it to Satish, but upon seeing their entwined hands, he smiled and put it on the table.

  27

  Claire

  Two hours later, Claire was back in her room, changing to go dancing. It was close to 10:00 pm, and Satish had reminded her that they had an 11:00 am flight the following morning. She had insisted, however—that was the deal.

  The truth was that Claire didn’t want this day to end. She had ridden a wave of emotions over the last twenty-four hours; she was exhausted, but she wanted more. She was still trying to puzzle out what Satish had said to her at dinner, and she played the words over and over in her head, wishing she had her journal with her, so she could write them down. (Well, she called it a journal, but honestly, it only had four pages with writing in it. She had bored herself after those four pages, so she had put it down. Now she had something to write about, though.)

  “So, what do you think it is?” Claire whispered to Sally as she struggled with her eyelash curler, trying to get the stupid pad thing back in the squeezer thing. She wasn’t positive as to why she was whispering, but it had occurred to her that she felt a little guilty about including Sally. She didn’t share every word, of course, but she was so confused and nervous about the “something I need to do” part that she had to talk to someone.

  “Hmm, Claire, I don’t know, but I wouldn’t worry about it. He held your hand, didn’t he?” Sally sounded distracted and Claire heard pots banging in the background. Sally’s cooking? Wow, this thing with Tod is serious.

  “He did, yeah.” The white, spongy pad flipped out of the curler and went flying across the bathroom. Claire gave up and tossed the curler in the sink. “He only held my hand in the restaurant, though. As soon as we got outside, he let go. He said that he was glad I understood that we could only be friends for now, and he hasn’t come within a foot of me in the last two hours. It’s not like I'm upset about it, Sal; it’s like I’m high. I have never in my life felt this good!”

  “I’m not surprised, Claire. The sexiest man on the planet—excluding Tod, of course—changed his flights for you and is smothering you with attention! Not that I’m surprised, because he’d be stupid not to be crazy about you. You rock! Ouch… sorry, burner.” Claire heard another pot clang.

  “Thanks, Sal. That’s one I owe you on the ego boost exchange.” She paused, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “So, you don’t think I should worry?”

  “No. Go dancing, have a blast in Brazil, and worry when he tells you he’s never speaking to you again.”

  Claire hung up to finish her evening preparations. She was meeting Satish at 10:30 pm in the lobby.

  She thought of how Rio seemed built for romance. On their way down to the beach, a light rain had started to fall. Although the sun had retired for the evening, both the rain and the sand had been warm and soft. As they walked on the beach, they’d passed a couple on vacation and clearly in love, kissing passionately on a bench. They’d been oblivious to the rain, and Claire had smiled at them, feeling incredibly magnanimous toward such blatant PDA.

  The beach had been dark; there weren’t any boats on the horizon, and the vibrant glow of the city hadn’t extended beyond the lighted beach promenade. They had walked down the beach, toward the water, stopping when she persuaded Satish that Hugo Boss loafers were not beach shoes and made him take them off. As they’d gotten closer to the ocean, she’d realized she would never be able to see the horizon in all of that
inky blackness. The only way she knew the water was there was when the surf had exploded in a strip of white foam around their feet. It had been unreal, and she’d inhaled the experience into the “always remember” compartment of her brain.

  They’d talked about Nandita, then. Claire was pleased to hear that Satish had decided to plead his sister’s case. He had told her how she was desperate to get to university, and Claire suggested he bring her to the States.

  “It would give her some space to find herself, don’t you think? She could stay with you, too, so you would get to spend time with her. I think, if I had a sister, I would want her around all the time.”

  Satish had looked at her in surprise with an excited raise of his eyebrows. “I never thought of that, Claire. What a wonderful idea! I don’t think I could ever get my father to agree to it, though.”

  She had watched him closely then, protected by the darkness. His whole body seemed to turn inward, and that lonely look that had drawn her to him all those weeks ago in Phil’s office had come back. She’d put her hand gently on his elbow, but then pulled it back.

  “Your dad has his life, right? He doesn’t own your life or your sister’s. I understand the concept of duty, but since when does duty require you to turn over your life to another? I think you have a duty to your father to do your best to take care of him and not hurt him, but I think it’s impossible not to grow up and hurt your parents somewhere along the way.”

  “Have you hurt your father?” he had asked then.

  “Probably, although not intentionally. I was a difficult teenager.” They had been sitting in the sand by this time, and she had dug her toes into the warmth, finding the cool layer of sand beneath. “I missed my mother. I blamed him a little for always being away—I blamed everyone. I told him once that, if he had loved her, he would never have left her alone when he worked. That hurt him. I think all that mess is part of finding out who you are as an individual, separate from your parents, you know?” She had reached down and sifted the warm sand between her fingers. “I discovered that I was good at this little sewing hobby I had and I started to figure out who I wanted to be. I came to terms with the fact that, although I missed my mother, she had left me with so many gifts, one of which was watching her immense love for my dad. I realized she would never have wanted me to feel any differently.” She had looked up at Satish, then. “Sorry. That was a bit much, wasn’t it?”