by Beena Khan
Against the wall were six glass bookshelves about six-feet tall filled with hundreds of books. They practically took over an entire wall. The inky treasures of words adorned the room. The architecture was modern and custom made, as if carved by someone who truly loved literature. The shelves were glass, transparent, with a mirror base.
She was sure there were probably at least five-hundred books on the shelves and almost lost her breath at the sight.
Is that glass? It looks so delicate and expensive.
She returned her gaze to the guy in front of her.
Is he loaded?
She was dazzled by the sight of the books and happily skipped over to the selection of first editions, leather-bound, paperback, mass market, and hardcover books. The books were just inviting her to not only touch them but to read them too. Next to the shelves, she noticed a built-in kindle e-reader on a stand. It wasn’t detachable, and she assumed it was because people could read on it without stealing the restaurant property.
“Pick something you like?” Kabir asked, interrupting her thoughts. He smiled at her reaction.
She was amazed. “You have a book collection in your lounge.” It wasn’t a question. It was a confirmation for her satisfaction.
“I keep it here if someone wants to read or I do,” he said.
She could tell he was as fond of books as she was.
She skimmed over the book titles and eyed the classics mixed with modern books such as, The Great Gatsby, Pride and Prejudice, The Godfather, Rumi Poetry, and Milk and Honey. She paused when she saw Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay and a whole shelf dedicated to modern and classic romance novels.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “You read Bad Feminist?”
“It’s good to have a diverse collection, women like it.” Kabir didn't look at her as he replied.
She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled up at him. She repeated his question back at him, “Why don’t you pick something for me?”
He looked down at her and when she smiled, he smiled along with her.
Kabir scanned the bookshelves and picked a novel by Elif Shafak, The Forty Rules of Love.
She grinned at his choice of book.
Kabir noticed her smile. It was even prettier than her.
“I didn’t ask you your name. I’m Elif.” She lifted her hand and extended it toward him.
Elif.
Kabir’s eyes shot up at her name and the author's name.
It was the same.
Elif, he repeated in his mind again. He savored that name under his tongue. He didn’t know whether it was a coincidence that he picked up a book with her name on it or something... else. Kabir settled for a coincidence, he didn’t want to think about something else other than friendship... yet.
“Yeah, surprise. The name of Red is Elif. I have the same name as the author,” Elif said as she laughed loudly, noticing his surprise. Her eyelashes blinked rapidly like the wings of a butterfly.
“Yeah, everyone calls you Red. How did you know by the way?” he asked, his cheeks pinkening.
“Yes, I have ears. I’m apparently Red because of that red dress I wore when I first came,” she replied, laughing again. Her laughter rippled through the room, piercing the smoking air and catching him off guard. Her laugh was like the wintersong. It was honest, rich, and loud. She didn’t laugh softly or shyly, but rather joyfully. Kabir felt her laughter deep in his stomach.
Is this what people call butterflies in your stomach? Kabir thought. He raised his own hand to grasp hers. Her hand was soft and small in his. His eyes caught the attention of her neck, a chain was clasped around it. A small ring with a single diamond hung from it that looked similar to a wedding band.
He frowned at the thought of her being married.
She was a mystery. A dangerously, beautiful mystery, and he was drawn to her like a moth is drawn to the light, ready to be trapped.
He shrugged off his thoughts. “I’m Kabir.”
Chapter 4
The next day, Elif was scanning the bookshelves for a new read, when Kabir’s head popped up behind the bookshelf.
She jumped back at the sudden movement.
“Kabir, why are you always creeping?” she asked.
He blinked slowly. “Elif, I work here—I own this place,” he replied, mocking her.
Is he making fun of me? she thought. She saw him hide a smile. Yes he is! She stared him down, relentlessly before asking, “So, what book did you bring me?”
“Educated by Tara Westover.”
Elif looked at him excitedly, and practically snatched the book out of his hands. “I wanted to read this!” Her face frowned suddenly, as a thought came into her mind. “Where did all the books go that I left behind?”
“Where did the ones I gave you go?” he asked.
Must he reply with a question to my question? she wondered. “They’re at my home,” she replied. “Do you want them back? I can bring them tomorrow.”
He smiled. “You can keep them. I have my own personal copy at home. As for your books, they’re here.” He moved his hand in a gesture pointing at the bookshelf on the third shelf.
She glanced in the direction of his hand. She stared open-mouth as she saw The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, The Mist by Stephen King, The Reader by Bernhard Schlink, You by Caroline Kepnes, Born a Crime by Trevor Noah, P.S I Like You by Kasie West, Anonymous Girl by Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen, Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist, The Forty Rules of love by Elif Shafak and several others. Elif was surprised to see all of the books they had left each other.
She looked at him after she collected herself and closed her mouth, then slowly asked with disbelief, “You have a bookshelf for all the books we read?”
“Yes, I added it yesterday,” Kabir replied proudly.
Elif looked at his expression. He looked so happy, and she hated to burst his bubble. She burst out laughing, and he looked at her with a confused expression.
“You always make bookshelves for girls you meet?” she asked, teasingly.
He shrugged. “I haven’t met many people who like reading.”
“So, I’m one of a kind?” She arched a sly brow at him.
He smiled. “If you say so.”
She turned toward him, her hands on her hips and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, not many people read. Readers are minorities. Special,” he replied.
“So I’m special?”
He sighed, frustrated at the questions she was throwing at him. “Why can’t you be happy and say thank you like a normal person?”
She grinned at him, crossing her arms across her chest. She took in his nervousness and his vulnerability.
“You get flustered a lot,” she commented.
He ran his hands through his hair, turning away from her so she couldn’t see his pink cheeks. “Anyway, these are your books. If you want them, you can take them back. I didn’t know where else to keep them so I put them on the shelf.”
Elif smiled at him and shook her head. “I like them here. A safe house.”
Kabir gave her a thumbs up.
Elif gazed around the lounge. “When will be the special occasion when you’ll open the lounge?” she asked.
“For events, parties, and date nights we do. Sometimes, we take bookings if a couple wants to book the lounge for themselves only. It’s usually closed to the public.”
“Except for me,” Elif objected, giving him a smile.
Kabir was silent.
“It’s actually very cozy in here. How did you get into business?” she asked as she took a seat on the couch, inviting him with her eyes to the empty seat next to her.
Kabir sat down and clasped his hands in his lap shyly. “A couple of years ago. The place kind of blew up in the past seven months.”
“Yeah—must be nice. Do you ever go to other bars and see what they're doing?”
Kabir shook his head. “Who has time for that?”
Elif’s eyes sparkled at him. “Oh my god, you should do that one day. It would be so badass.”
“I barely get time for myself,” he said.
She rolled her eyes upward and asked, “Aren’t you friends with Aryan though?”
“Yeah, we’re close.”
“Then hello... you have your new business partner,” she said.
Kabir chuckled under his breath, nodding. “He does manage the place when I’m not around.”
Elif turned toward him, resting her elbow on her knee and her hand under her chin. She noticed his eyes widened.
Maybe I’m too close to him, she thought as she leaned back again.
Kabir’s eyes widened at how close she had moved toward him. He hadn’t been this close with a woman for a while now, and he had forgotten the feeling.
He looked over at Elif, as she looked toward him in curiosity. She was wearing a bright, blue dress today. The kind of bright blue that showed soft confidence and reflected calmness. It was the color of blue skies and oceans. He smiled when he realized her dress matched her eye color. He had no idea why she wore dresses mainly, especially in the winter time.
“You should hire me as your new bartender and make Aryan your business partner,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.
Kabir laughed. “All the booze will be gone then.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and huffed, but he could see a small smile tugged at her lips. She looked away from him, and Kabir admired her side profile. Her beauty was distracting. She had classic good looks, and there was no denying that. He wasn’t surprised at how everyone tried to throw their game at her on her first arrival.
“You don’t have jokes now?” Kabir teased her this time.
“I wasn’t expecting to be a joke myself,” she said, pouting. “I think it would be great to make your lounge larger though. I could design it,” she offered.
He was surprised. “You design?” he questioned.
She nodded, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It comes with my job.”
“Sure—I’d like that. Come up with some ideas and show me.”
She grinned at him.
Kabir smiled at her and asked a question he had been pondering about, “How did you get into reading?”
“I’ve always liked stories as a child. I've been reading since I was eight years old. I started chapter books in the third grade and kept reading. You?” she asked.
“I like storytelling so yeah, I like stories too.”
Elif raised her eyebrows at him. “Really? Narrate a story to me,” she demanded, challenging him.
Kabir was excited because he was always looking for the right time to bring out his storytelling.
He began, “Once upon a time—”
She cut him off by saying, “Your stories involve fairy tales?”
“Every child’s first story is a fairytale. Once upon a time, there was a lonely king who lived in the cages of his own mansion. It was a prison to him with no escape. He had wealth, success, looks, but he was lonely. He lived by himself, and he had no one by his side. His queen had left him for a better, stronger king, leaving him behind—”
“That’s so sad,” Elif interrupted, her brows furrowing.
Kabir continued, “He liked cleaning his own mansion so he didn't have any servants. One magical day, a princess visited, wanting to meet the king, but all she saw was a man cleaning in rags. The king wore comfort clothes when he cleaned the mansion. He didn't wear his robe or crown. The princess assumed he was the servant, and when she entered his premises, she demanded to see the king.”
He noticed Elif listening intently.
He continued saying, “The king was actually so surprised, he dropped the broom. He was amazed such creatures exist who dared to enter his kingdom, his premises and questioned about his whereabouts. He demanded to know who she was, but she refused to state her name, and said she would only tell the king. She said, ‘You are not the king.’ The king was astonished as he stared at the princess' glowering face. His astonishment faded as he noticed her beauty for the first time. He noticed her big green eyes and her fiery long hair that dragged on the floor as she walked—”
“Is she Rapunzel?” Elif asked, interrupting him.
He shook his head and continued, “She was beautiful, he realized. His heart glowed at the sight of her. He calmly said, ‘I'm the king, and I live here by myself.’ She demanded that he prove it, and he asked politely, ‘How can I do that?’ She responded, ‘You have to transfer all your wealth to me.’ The king laughed at the absurdity of the question. He replied saying, ‘Do you think I’m a fool? Have you come to steal from me? I will transfer a copper penny and no dime more.’ The princess was furious, she responded, ‘How dare you accuse me of being a thief?’ The king responded, ‘What else should I call you? You’re the stranger in my house uninvited, and demanding to prove myself to you.’ The princess was embarrassed now, and she dropped her face to the ground—”
“That kind of sounds like you and I,” Elif interrupted again, giggling.
“Are you going to keep interrupting me?” he asked.
Elif put a finger to her lips as if to silence herself. Kabir felt his face warm and smiled.
She’s kind of adorable, he thought.
“The princess felt awful then. She apologized to the king. The king asked, ‘Why have you come?’ She replied, ‘There is a giant dragon invading my village, and we needed your help.’ The king agreed, and he promised her he would do whatever he could.”
“Let me guess, he slays the dragon, and they get married?” Elif asked.
“No, she dies—” Kabir said sadly. “The dragon eats her.”
Her mouth dropped. “Sheesh...That’s a nightmare, not a fairytale.”
He smiled at her and rose up from his seat. He went toward the bookshelf and picked out a book. “Here, read this, it has a happy ending,” he said, as he returned toward his seat.
She glanced at the title, The Hating Game by Sally Thorne. She looked up at him and smiled. “You read chick literature?”
“It’s a funny novel,” he answered, looking away.
“You’re different,” she observed. He felt her studying him, and he felt uncomfortable under her gaze.
“I’ve got to go,” he said.
“Where are you off to?” she asked.
“It's time for Isha, night time Islamic prayers.”
He saw that Elif looked surprised as he left her to read.
Chapter 5
Kabir and Elif’s new relationship progressed over the week, and it slowly blossomed into a friendship.
She was sitting at the bar when he approached her and moved through the warm bodies around him to reach her. Elif was wearing a sheer velvet, deep green V-neck dress that flared at her knees.
Kabir liked her dresses, but he avoided staring at her bare collarbones. “Hi. Did you design something for me?” he asked when he reached her.
She smiled at him and picked up her purse, pulling out a few pieces of papers from it. She laid them side by side on the bar. There were three designs in black and white.
She pointed to one saying, “Since you already have bookshelves made from glass, I thought we could incorporate more glass into the lounge.”
He looked up at her and asked, “Won’t it be too fragile then? It might break.”
She shook her head, smiling. “You said it yourself. The lounge isn’t open to the public, so the chances of it breaking are less.”
“What’s the plan then?” he asked.
“I was thinking of adding tables with engraved books on it. There could be tables designed specifically for genre. Every corner could be its own genre. Thriller books could have dark blue glass tables with red. The Romance genre could have pastel, pink tables. Science Fiction books could have an eclipse stars and a starry night theme—”
Kabir listened to her creativity. He watched as her lips formed words. He watched as her hands made movements as she talked.
He liked to listen to her.
“Let’s do it then. Get the final designs ready and we’ll start,” he cut her off.
She grinned at him and said, “I still recommend going to other restaurants and places to see how they’re doing.”
He shook his head no. She pouted but kept talking again. Kabir noticed several guys looking at Elif.
“How come you don’t talk to any guys here?” he asked.
“I talk to you and Aryan,” she replied, arching an eyebrow at him.
“Why not anyone else?” he asked.
She shrugged. “You guys are the only ones who don’t hit on me.”
That makes sense, he thought.
“Why are you asking me?” she asked, curious now.
“Everyone is staring at you,” he replied sheepishly.
She looked around the room, following the gazes of the men. She turned back toward him and said, “I didn’t come to the bar to meet people.”
“Most people come to the bar to meet people and drink.”
She stared at him and shrugged. “I met you, that’s enough for me.”
Kabir was surprised at her words and didn’t continue the conversation.
❖
For the next week, every day, Kabir brought a new book for Elif.
This time he brought Brave New World by Aldous Huxley—a classic novel revolving around technology and how it impacts society. Individuality doesn’t exist, and babies are born in laboratories. The character Bernard Marx is on the top levels of society, but he can't seem to fit in. Kabir hoped Elif liked the book as much as he had.
Elif glanced at the novel he presented to her and grinned. “I read it already, and I loved it,” she said.
Kabir frowned, his lips turning downward. It was hard finding a book Elif hadn't read. She was a walking and talking encyclopedia of books.
“What kind of books do you like to read?” he asked, taking a seat on the bar stool next to her.
“I like anything with a good story, something captivating. I read classics, poetry and modern books.” Elif took a drink of her vodka.
“What books haven't you read?” he asked.
“Most popular books I've read. I like underrated books.”
