Sally ripped the top of letter off with a dramatic flourish, and a single page tumbled to the floor. She just stood there, holding the envelope, and looked up at Claire, who just sat there, looking at Sally. Neither of them moved toward the page.
“Sorry, Claire,” Sally whispered, “I just got a bit carried away.”
“That’s okay,” she whispered back. “Just pick it up and read it to me, okay?”
“Are you sure?” Sally looked pale and slightly green.
“Yep.”
Sally picked up the single page. Her hands were shaking, but her voice was clear.
“’Dear Son, I have had enough of this Western talk, and I have had enough of waiting for you to resolve this situation. Come home immediately. Your obligations are waiting for you, and so is your bride.’”
Satish was married. He had a bride. Claire was awake all night, running through every conversation, every email, every text message, and every opportunity Satish had not taken to provide her with this most vital piece of information. He just kept calling. At around 2:00 am, she took her phone out to the living room and stuffed it under a couch cushion, so she wouldn’t be tempted to answer it. God knew she was tempted.
She was desperate to hear his voice to hear him say that this was all some huge mistake. Was all his talk about obligations and commitments what this was about? Was she supposed to guess from that? Did she somehow miss a vital clue? The worst part was that her mind couldn't reconcile the Satish that she knew—kind, caring, thoughtful, intelligent, and moral—with the Satish who had exposed by that letter. How was it possible that she had gotten everything so wrong?
Sally stormed into her room, trailing the nauseating smells of coffee and waffles.
“I know you didn’t sleep last night—and neither did I, frankly—but it’s time that you got yourself out of bed and off to work. I’ll be damned if Nadia manages to ruin both your relationship and your job.” She plopped down on Claire’s bed and passed her a cup of coffee, which made her want to throw up. “Besides, you know I couldn’t stand working there without you, so this is a purely selfish intervention.”
“I don’t think I can make it, Sally,” Claire grimaced as she sipped the too-hot coffee and it scalded her tongue. “I might just cry all over everyone.”
Her roommate looked at her with sympathy, but then stood up so fast that her own coffee slopped over Claire’s comforter—the white one.
“Oops, sorry. I’ll get it out, I promise. Damn, I just ruined my taking a stand by standing up!” She put her coffee cup on the floor and her hands on her hips. “I’m taking a stand! ’m taking a stand for the little people who have been run over by the Bitch Clique. Now that Nadia is gone, a new Queen Bitch will take her place, and that Queen Bitch—probably Anne, the bitch—will be waiting at work today with the rest of the bitches to hear that you are: A, in the hospital, recovering from a sleeping pill overdose, B—and I know this one is true, but let’s pretend it isn’t—unable to get out of bed because your heart is shattered to pieces, or C, at work, working, stealing their opportunity for schadenfreude. Tod just taught me that word yesterday.”
“I’m not going,” Claire said, sinking back into her covers.
“You are going,” Sally said. “You are going, because you are Claire Black, and they will not beat you—you will not be beaten by bitchy women or married men. You are going to work, and you will not cry.”
Claire considered what might happen if she didn’t show up. Given everything that was happening, she did not want to risk it with Nick the Dick; he was looking for any excuse to get rid of her after the elevator fiasco. She knew she could go to HR—it was sexual harassment, after all—but that would be more than she could handle right now, and she needed this job. She needed this job for the money, but also because, if she didn’t have a job to keep her distracted from her disaster of a life, she thought she might lose her mind.
“Okay,” she stood and walked past Sally toward the shower, “I’ll go.”
“Damn,” her roommate watched her go in wonder, “I take a good stand.”
34
Satish
He had lost her. Just when he needed her most, he had lost her.
Satish had been calling Claire since lunch time. When she hadn’t answered the first few times, he’d remembered the time difference and reasoned that it wasn’t fair to wake her in the middle of the night, especially when she had just completed such a long journey all alone. He’d waited for an hour, but then his need for her overcame him and he’d called again. When she hadn’t answered after the next few phone calls, anxiety had overtaken him.
Had she made it home? Had Nadia caused problems with her flight again? He was pretty sure that couldn’t have been the case, since he had dealt with Nadia effectively. Perhaps she was ill? Had she had an accident? Was she in the hospital? By 2:00 am, his anxiety was overwhelming and his anger with himself was even greater. How could he have left her? How could he be so far away when she might need him? He had failed her again. He vowed to himself that, upon his return from India, Claire would always come first, before work, before family, and before himself. She deserved nothing but his complete devotion, and he knew, without a doubt, that he couldn’t live a full life without her.
At 2:10 am, he called again, and he heard the distant crackle as he made a connection. Thank God, he thought. “Claire?” he asked, “Oh, thank God you answered, Claire. Are you alright?” There was silence at the end of the line and he wondered if he had connected, after all. Just then, through the static, a sleepy, muffled voice came through. “Don’t call her again, okay? Don’t call here ever again, you… you adulterer!”
Satish had sat, staring at the phone in his hand, for the last hour. If Sally knew, then Claire knew. He didn’t know how she had discovered his shame, but it didn’t matter. It was all his fault, and it was true: he was an adulterer. He wasn’t married, but he had made a commitment to someone else, and he had an obligation to honor that commitment.
He didn’t deserve Claire—he was not an honorable man. What was he doing here in India, trying to change his life? It was too late for him; his story had been written for him the day he was born. What made him think he deserved anything more than what his family had provided for him? He was greedy, selfish, and dishonorable. Worst of all, he had dragged Claire into his self-indulgence, and he had let her down.
It was too late for him, but it was not too late for Nandita. He had been privileged enough to get an education, and his little sister deserved the same. He would not back down to his father. He would marry his intended and honor his commitment, but he would take Nandita home.
35
Claire
Claire sat at her desk and stared at the stack of papers in front of her. System requirements seemed so meaningless; this project that had thrilled her only a week ago hung around her neck like an albatross. She shuffled the papers dully from one stack to another, trying to remember what she was supposed to do next. She hadn’t seen Nick, yet, but he was sure to be waiting on the final draft of the requirements document. He had promised everyone at that drunken, horrible dinner that his next system would begin being built immediately upon his return from Rio. He couldn’t do that without the final document in hand. He probably couldn’t do that without Satish, either, but at this point, Claire was only concerned about fulfilling her end of the bargain.
The walk to her desk that morning had been like The Green Mile. Everyone was gaping at her, but no one wanted her to know they were. She kept glimpsing eyes peering over the tops of cubes, pointedly staring in another direction, but not one person spoke to her.
“Dead man walking,” whispered Sally as she poked her head into her cubicle. “Don’t worry, Claire, it will pass. I just heard that Chris walked in on Brian and Maria in the break room last night, and the heat wasn’t coming from the microwave, if you know what I mean.” She flung herself onto the extra chair, wiggling her eyebrows, and yanked Claire’s almost empty ca
ndy jar toward her. “Tod says that this company is his personal soap opera—he gets the next episode every night in bed with a glass of wine, and boy he enjoys the after party.” Sally looked over and noticed the appalled look on her friend’s face. “Oh, don’t worry, Claire, we don’t talk about you.”
“That’s not exactly what concerned me, Sal, but thanks! Can you get lost, now? I need to focus on pulling this stuff together. I feel like I have forgotten everything.”
A not-so subtle throat clearing made them both look up to see Phil Harley in the doorway, red-faced and disheveled, as usual. “Here,” Phil said, as he passed a thick, perfectly-bound document to Claire. “You’ll need this.”
Claire looked at the cover: it was the final draft. She flicked through the pages, astounded to see all her hard work and research beautifully prepared and presented.
“What is this?” She looked up at Phil, puzzled.
“It’s your requirements document. Nick has been walking around the office, making it clear that, if you showed up after a ‘vacation’ in Rio without a final version, he would have no choice but to fire you. I think ‘lazing around on the beach in a skimpy bikini’ is what he inferred you were doing. I found your notes on your desk, and Satish emailed me everything you had sent him so far. Maureen and I finished it last night. I’m not usually a requirements dude, but Maureen was great—she’s very kind.” He blushed and his naturally red face turned slightly mauve in color. “It was a long night, but that should keep Nick off your back.”
Claire looked over at Sally, who looked as stunned as she felt. Sally just shrugged her shoulders. “Wait, what? Why?” Claire stammered.
“Look,” Phil looked even more uncomfortable, “Satish is a good friend of mine. He’s a great boss, and I enjoy working for him, so I feel a little protective of the guy. You should know that he’s done some great things for you over the past week, so I figure you’re important to him. I don’t know what he has going on in India, but it must be serious, because I haven’t heard from him in a few days. I didn’t want him coming back to a bigger mess than we have already.” He paused for a second, opened his mouth to say something else, and then snapped it shut. They all sat in silence for about five seconds until he said,“He’s a good guy.”
Sally snorted and Phil shot her a disgusted look. Claire stared at the document in her hand, head spinning. “Thanks, Phil,” she said. “That was really, really nice of you. I’ll thank Maureen later, too. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I did it for Satish.” He spun on his heel and sent Sally one more nasty glance over his shoulder before he left.
Claire turned to her to tell her off, but she didn’t get a word out before Anne, the newly anointed Queen Bitch—Sally was physic—stuck her head over Claire’s cube. “Nick wants to see you in his office right now.”
36
Satish
If there had been a constant source of pleasure in Satish’s life, it had been work. It was the one thing that had never let him down. During those lonely, dark years at school, it was the work that Satish had turned to in order to take his mind off of home, India, and his sisters. During university, when he had struggled with adjusting to a thriving social scene, he’d used work as his excuse to avoid the effort of trying to fit in. As an adult, he had nothing in his life but work, and he’d relished it—until Claire, that was.
During the last months, he had experienced a radical shift in how he managed stress, anxiety, and loneliness. Before Claire, when he received a difficult letter from his father, had a conflict in the office, or just felt the oppressive weight of his loneliness, he would return to his office sanctuary and immerse himself in work. It had been his salve. After Claire, however, his days were different. He no longer locked himself in his office and reached for his work, but for his phone. Claire trumped work. Claire filled the holes of loneliness and anxiety and created within him space for more emotion than he had ever experienced. He now had space for love, affection, desire, and above all, hope—hope that life was something more than he had always imagined it to be.
Now, Satish had neither salve. After the horrible phone call with Sally, he had spent the afternoon pacing and trying to ignore the sobs coming from Nandita’s room and the constant buzz of conversation coming from his parents’ room. He knew he would have to renew the discussions toward an agreeable resolution to the family issues, but for now, he just needed to not think. After a few hours of pacing, he turned to his work. This, he thought, will help distract me.
He could not work, though. For the first time in his life, he could not work. Claire consumed his every thought, and the pain of her absence took hostage of his brain.
He needed to come up with a plan to get Nandita out of here. He would speak with her and gently request that she pull back a little on her demands. Perhaps, if she promised to stop seeing Sachin and consider the possibility of Naveen, his father would consider allowing her an education. It was an unlikely compromise, but right now, it was the only plan he had.
He slammed the top of his laptop closed and stared hungrily at the phone. He would not call Claire. He had hurt her badly, and no matter how much he needed her, he had no right to disrespect her wishes. Somehow, she had found out the truth, although he had a good idea of who was behind the espionage. Even though Satish had tried to convince himself that she would understand, it was obviously too much to ask. He had betrayed her by kissing her as though she belonged to him while he still belonged to another—in words, anyway, if not in his heart. Marrying the woman his father had chosen for him would kill any hope of true happiness, but perhaps it would appease his father enough that he could save Nandita. He would save her in honor of Claire.
Satish tore his eyes from the phone and headed straight to his sister’s room. It was empty, though. Not only that, but it was a massive disaster. Drawers had been flung open and were spilling clothing onto the floor in a jarring collection of bright, colorful saris and faded grey and black t-shirts. Satish opened her closet and found rows of empty hangers, along with a sad pile of discarded shoes.
He felt an overwhelming sense of panic. Oh, Nandita, he thought, my dear, sweet, stubborn sister. Please do not have gone to Sachin, please. Satish knew that, if she had run away with Sachin, the situation would be untenable. There was nothing he could do—there was no coming back and there would be nothing that would ever make his father forgive her. Her future would be dark.
It was then that he noticed an envelope propped against the mirror of her dressing table. He grabbed it and tore it open.
Dear Father,
I am sorry to disappoint you. I am sorry that I am neither the daughter that you need, nor want. I am sorry that I have caused you, mother, and Satish so much stress and worry, but I cannot live a life without choices. I cannot spend my hours serving the needs of others while ignoring my own. I have a right to be Nandita. I have only one life, and I have the right to live that life the way I choose. I will not marry Sachin, but I will also not marry Naveen. I will study and discover who I want to be, and then I will begin making choices—my choices—which will impact the rest of my life.
Please do not worry about me. I have money that I have saved carefully, and I know where I am going. Please don’t be angry at Satish, but I have taken his keys, and by the time you find this, I will be on a flight to America. I will go to Satish’s apartment and wait for him there. Satish did not plan this with me or have any knowledge of my deceit. It was my choice and mine alone.
Father, I hope that, one day, you can forgive me. I choose to believe that you will.
Nandita
37
Claire
Claire knocked timidly on Nick’s door. She would not be afraid. She was going to be Tough Claire. At the sight of him smirking at his desk after she closed the door behind her, however, her resolve dissolved. The memory of him pressed up against her in the elevator came rushing back and so did the fear and intense anger. This guy didn’t deserve her fear, but
he was taking it.
“Hey, darlin’,” Nick gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. Claire stayed standing. “We have a lot to talk about, but, first things first,” he drawled as he pointed a finger at her and circled it slowly. “Where’s my BRD—or have you been too busy doing God knows what to focus on your career? Perhaps you were focusing on your career in a different way.”
“I have the BRD, Nick.” She took a tiny step forward and placed Phil’s perfect document on the desk.
Nick raised a single eyebrow at her and lowered his finger slowly. “Well, well, well, I guess we do have a superstar, here.” He pulled the document toward him and paged through it, stopping occasionally to glance up at Claire. “Looks good, but it’s such a shame that such a superstar is such a slut.” Nick closed the BRD and gestured again for her to sit.
Claire’s voice shook with anger. “You don’t get to use language like that with me. I fully intend to go to HR to report you, if there is any further inappropriate behavior or language on your part. You need to be careful with the way you treat me from now on.”
Nick looked at her for a few quiet moments before he continued, “Just calling a spade a spade. I got a call from Nadia, who told me that our friend Satish canceled his flight to hang out with you in Rio. Her contacts at the hotel say you guys were pretty cozy. I mean, I could have helped you with your career, but I guess you were aiming a little higher, huh? After all, why sleep with a director when you can leapfrog to a VP?”
Unraveled (Jersey Girls Book 1) Page 16
