The Sari Shop Widow

by Shobhan Bantwal

  “I see.”

  “Once or twice I’d thought about getting my own apartment, but what purpose would it serve? Other than to sleep and bathe, what else would I need it for? Besides, after so many years, if I suddenly decided to go off on my own they’d be confused, even hurt. They seem to need me as much as I need them.”

  “Hmm.” He didn’t belabor the point. Instead he walked over to the just-installed arch that formed the doorway to the women’s department. He ran his fingers over its frame encrusted with shimmering beads and flowing gold designs. The sign above it read Zanana. “I like this. It’s both stylish and whimsical.”

  “Thanks.” She rather liked it herself.

  “What made you think of it?”

  Zanana was a Persian term for an area exclusive to women, a harem concealed from male eyes, but Anjali had thought here in the store it’d be a rare and captivating lure for shoppers. She’d figured people could walk through the archway with its beaded curtain to discover the enticing secrets hidden behind it. She smiled at Rishi. “I’m hoping it’ll attract more males rather than keep them out. What red-blooded male can resist taking a peek into a mysterious female universe?”

  “And it’s exotic enough to stir the curiosity of non-Asians, too—the treasure trove effect.” He turned away from the arch. “Aren’t you the least bit curious to see the café, Anju? I noticed you’ve stayed away from it the last few days. You’ve been using the front door.”

  “I wanted it to surprise me. Sometimes I wait to see the finished product without seeing the in-between stages. It’s so much more fun that way.”

  “It’s finished now. I’ll give you a grand tour if you’d like.”

  “You’re on.”

  Shutting off the lights, she took the hand he held out to her. Their relationship had settled into one of quiet camaraderie, with some hand-holding, occasional pecks on the cheek, and an arm around the shoulder now and then. After that day in his hotel room, where he’d kissed her with both passion and promise, nothing significant had occurred.

  They were rarely alone. Most often she and Rishi closed the store at nights together and went home in their separate cars to eat dinner with the family.

  Once a week, usually on a Sunday night, the two of them went out to dinner—to discuss business. At times they met at the gym. The elders seemed to approve of it. More and more Anjali had begun to see a smidgen of optimism in her mother’s eyes. She could tell that her parents and Jeevan-kaka were secretly hoping for something serious to blossom between Rishi and her, but it hadn’t happened yet. It wasn’t because Rishi didn’t want it. It was she who couldn’t afford to indulge in an affair with a guy like him, a ship that wandered about the world with no anchor.

  Having a fling with Kip Rowling had been safe in many ways; her heart wasn’t at risk. With Rishi, however, it was a different matter. She suspected she was already in love with him to some degree. He’d been in Edison for nearly four months. If she succumbed to her need to get physical with him, there’d be no turning back.

  She appreciated the fact that he didn’t push her. After that candid talk about giving themselves a chance to get to know each other better, he hadn’t brought up the subject again. Maybe he was giving her time to mull over it. She respected him for that. It was all the more reason why he was growing on her, too. She was afraid she was beginning to like him too much.

  How could she have judged him as cold and unfeeling? As she’d come to know him better, she’d learned he was a man of integrity despite being a tenacious and sometimes hard-nosed businessman. He couldn’t have become a success if he weren’t. But he was fair at the same time. He didn’t suffer fools, yet he was generous in many ways.

  Above all else, he treated her fussy uncle like a father and all the Kapadias like family. He and Nilesh had become close, too. He’d even attended a couple of college baseball games with Nilesh.

  She forced her thoughts back to the present as Rishi ushered her through the glass-paneled swing door. The words Neela Chai flowed across it, the letters constructed from blue, jewel-tone stained glass. She waited till he turned on the lights.

  With a delighted breath she let her gaze wander across the room. The cream granite counter was long and curved, designed so customers could observe Anwar perform his culinary magic. The five small tables had matching cream tops. The chairs were wrought iron with padded blue seats and backrests. The floor was made of gleaming cream tiles and the walls were covered with rich textured wallpaper. Indian folk art mounted on cream mats and framed in vibrant cobalt blue frames brought the walls alive. The hanging light fixtures were filigreed brass domes.

  “This is gorgeous, Rishi. It’s more beautiful than I’d imagined.” She couldn’t help giving him an exuberant hug. “Thank you so much…for everything.”

  “You did all the planning and designing, darling. I’m only the facilitator.”

  “But you’re the one who made it all possible. You and Jeevan-kaka.”

  He lifted a brow. “Is it safe to assume you don’t dislike me and Jeevan-kaka anymore, then?”

  “Yep.” She angled a sly look at him. “In fact, I’ve decided I like you a hell of a lot.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” He took her by the shoulders and placed a quick, hard kiss on her mouth. “I’ve waited four long months for the persnickety Miss Kapadia to change her mind about me.”

  “You’re calling me persnickety? As if you weren’t distant and disdainful the day you arrived here.”

  “How else was I supposed to react when your mother and you looked at me like the snake that had crept in from the wilds of India?”

  “What can I say? We were nervous about Jeevan-kaka’s visit, and then to see a stranger arriving with him was a bit…unexpected.”

  “And unpleasant?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Yes, you would,” he teased. “And you’ve actually begun to like me now. Imagine that,” he murmured, the lighthearted tone gradually turning serious, seductive, silky. He tightened his hold on her and kissed her again, slowly and softly this time. His lips glided along the sensitive area between her earlobe and her neck, sending a tremor of pleasure through her.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. Good God, but the man knew how to get a woman turned on. His hands coasted ever so leisurely up and down her back. They appeared to search out every little nerve that reacted to his touch like a live wire. Instinctively she pressed against him. She couldn’t get close enough. The devil knew exactly what he was doing.

  Anjali had no idea how long they stood in the room or how long they kissed. All she knew was she wanted him. With his beard-roughened jaw and his eyes taking on that hungry predator look, he was mouthwateringly male.

  It was impossible not to respond to what he was doing to her, what he was silently asking of her. He was no doubt feeling the same things she was. She deepened the kiss, lingering over it as much as she could.

  “Be with me tonight, sweetheart,” he whispered against her lips, his voice sounding urgent.

  His words took her by surprise. “I can’t.”

  “Why not? It’s obvious you want me as much as I want you.”

  “Wanting is not the same as…as…”

  “As what?” He broke away from her mouth to look at her.

  She blinked. “Physical love can last only so long.” She couldn’t tell him she was falling in love with him.

  “You won’t know unless you try it.”

  “I tried it with Kip.”

  He loosened his hold on her as if she’d flung cold water in his face. “Forget that odious bloke, will you? He’s not the average man. I’m not like him.”

  “Exactly what kind of man are you, Rishi?”

  “I believe in family…loyalty. Is that so bad?”

  She blinked again. “So what are you saying?”

  “Why don’t we take this relationship a little more seriously and see where it goes? Then we can both decide whether we want it o
r not. I know I could use a little stability in my life. I’ll let you decide if that’s what you want in yours.”

  “So you think sleeping together is going to help us decide?” She had a feeling this was all some strange dream. Since Vik’s death she’d become a believer in the well-known adage, Man proposes and God disposes. Every time she started thinking of the distant future, she curbed herself. What was the point in planning something if none of it materialized? Or worse, it got destroyed?

  “Maybe,” he said, “because chemistry between two people matters. And we have plenty.”

  She couldn’t deny that. The attraction between them was so potent it set off a minor nuclear blast every time they touched. Most of the time all he had to do was look at her and her nerves started to spark.

  He cupped her face in his hands, kicking up her heartbeat. “I’m getting serious about you, Anju. I’ve never come across anyone whom I’ve felt so strongly about.”

  “I’d have thought you’d be a magnet for most women. You’re in the fashion industry. The gorgeous models alone must be in the dozens.”

  “To me they’re models, nothing more. Besides, I grew up in a mixed culture. The women I’ve met so far have been either purely Indian and very conservative or totally European and much too forward for me.”

  “Really?”

  “Laura and Samantha are perfect examples of the latter. But now that I’ve met you I’ve come to realize I want someone who represents the best of both worlds.”

  “What do you consider the best of both worlds?”

  “Old-fashioned Indian values combined with—I don’t know…a confident and independent attitude?”

  “And you think I have those qualities?”

  “Yes. I’m old enough to know what I want.”

  And persuasive enough, she thought as she met his gaze and felt herself drowning in the melting gray pools of his eyes. “You have such seductive eyes.”

  He looked surprised. “Despite the unsightly scar above my eyelid?”

  “It’s not unsightly. It gives your face character. Your eyes are like liquid smoke. They can go from cold to angry to contemptuous to warm to sexy just like that,” she said.

  “No one’s ever described my dull gray eyes quite so glowingly.”

  “Then they don’t know you very well.”

  “And you do?” He looked amused.

  “Well, yeah, somewhat—in the past few months.”

  “Since I have such seductive eyes, will you spend the night with me?” he asked with a laugh. When she sighed, his amusement vanished. “You don’t know how difficult it is to work with you so closely day after day and not get my hands on you, Anju. I’ve tried to keep my instincts under lock and key, but you’ve become a distraction for me.”

  “And I bet you don’t like distractions messing up your orderly life.” He was clearly a goal-oriented man who single-mindedly went after what he wanted. She had yet to see him falter or change course once he’d made up his mind.

  “Damn right. Distractions drive me mad.”

  She knew exactly how that felt. Her life had been tidy and free of distractions, too, but then he’d come sailing in, a thorn in her side at first. And now her physical need to be with him was not only interrupting her work but causing major emotional upheaval. Ever since he’d kissed her that day she’d lain in her bed night after night, wondering what it would be like to make love with him. She’d built fantasies around him but was afraid to act on them.

  She stayed silent.

  “What’ll it be, darling?” he prompted. “Yes or no?”

  She rolled it around in her mind, examined it from various angles. He’d been involved with another woman until recently. Did he still have certain feelings for Samantha? Would he compare her to Samantha and find her lacking? On the other hand, he’d said he was getting serious about her, hadn’t he? What more did she want?

  Rishi was gazing at her with those amazing eyes and she knew she was sinking. Fast. Maybe if she slept with him this once, she’d get him out of her system. Better yet, despite his apparent refinement there was the possibility he could turn out to be a lousy lover, and she’d discover he wasn’t the right man for her. Then she could kiss him good-bye without hurting like hell. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

  “You will?” He blinked, seemingly surprised.

  “But what are we going to tell my family?”

  “That we’re going out to our usual Sunday dinner and then a movie. We’ll tell them not to wait up for you. We’ll have to lie again, won’t we?” he said with a wink.

  “You’re a very corrupting influence on me.” Then she thought of something. “Wait a minute. We can’t; we don’t have any…um…you know…” She meant to say protection but couldn’t. This was already beginning to get awkward. How was she going to handle the rest of the evening at this rate?

  He chuckled, apparently reading her mind. “Nothing a trip to the hotel’s convenience store can’t resolve. Leave it to me.”

  “Okay.” She should have known a smart and practical man like him would take such things in stride. But it all sounded so cold and clinical, like they were entering a formal pact of some kind, similar to the business contract they’d signed not too long ago, making them partners.

  Nonetheless, in some ways tonight’s plan was indeed a short-term contract, especially the way he’d explained it. Why don’t we take this relationship a little more seriously and see where it goes? Then we can both decide whether we want it or not. Yep, it was a contract: a trial arrangement with room for negotiation if both parties were satisfied and wanted to extend it.

  He turned off the lights and engaged the security system. In the parking lot, the brisk wind lifted her hair and tossed it in her face. Rishi raised a hand and brushed it back. “Feel like you’re facing an execution, Anju?”

  “No. Why?” Her breath came out shaky, belying her words.

  “Because you look like you do.”

  “Sorry.” She tried to smile. “Nerves, I guess.”

  “I understand.” He nudged her toward her car. “You’ll be all right, I promise.”

  The thunder and lightning were still putting on a sound-and-light show but the forecast rain hadn’t arrived yet. She shivered a little when once again lightning ripped the sky, too close for comfort.

  Climbing into her car, she waited for the sound of thunder to pass before cranking the engine. Her hands were trembling. She noticed Rishi was already behind his wheel and had the motor running. But he hadn’t moved. He was obviously waiting for her to go ahead of him so he could follow her to the hotel.

  Well, Anjali, you may be on your way to heartbreak again, she told herself. After next week’s opening he’ll leave for London or Hong Kong or wherever and you’ll be left here in Jersey, pining away for a globetrotter whose first love is his business. Was she prepared to leave herself vulnerable to that kind of hurt and desolation?

  But she knew she couldn’t avoid Rishi if she tried. She was the fish that was hooked and getting reeled in quickly. The only difference was she wasn’t thrashing around resisting. She was stepping into this affair, or relationship, or whatever it was, with her eyes wide open. He’d made it clear he wasn’t holding a gun to her head. She was free to turn down his invitation and go home to her own bed.

  But she wasn’t going to her own bed. She was going to his.

  Chapter 21

  In the hotel’s parking lot, Rishi parked his vehicle next to Anjali’s and glanced up at the sky. The first plump drops of rain were beginning to fall. It threatened to turn into a deluge within the next minute or two.

  Alighting quickly and locking his vehicle, he went forward to open Anjali’s door. He noticed the taut look on her face.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, taking her hand.

  “I think so.” She shut the car door and hit the lock button on her key. A couple of raindrops landed on her face, making her blink. “Uh-oh.”

  “We better get out of her
e,” he said, urgently tugging on her hand.

  Together they raced across the parking lot and toward the entrance, trying to beat the swelling rain. Lightning split the sky once again, and the downpour started in full fury. The automatic glass doors parted and they barreled inside the building.

  Rishi let out a low whistle as the crash of thunder assaulted their ears. “Now that’s what I call a right wicked storm. Reminds me of the beginning of the monsoon season in India.”

  Anjali silently brushed the rain off her face and hair. The pinched look on her face still remained.

  Well, at least they’d made it inside the hotel in the nick of time, reflected Rishi with some relief. They’d beaten the worst of the rain. He handed Anjali his key card. “Go ahead and wait for me in the suite. I’ll be right up.”

  “Thanks.” Her eyes were on the floor. She seemed reluctant.

  Maybe she was rethinking her decision about coming here with him, and she was embarrassed on top of it. “Just a few minutes and I’ll join you straightaway,” he assured her. Unfortunately he had to make that very essential stop at the hotel’s convenience store. He wondered if she’d behaved like this with Rowling. Somehow he doubted it. He’d seen her with that man briefly and he hadn’t noticed anything like this undecided woman standing before him.

  “I’ll give your parents a ring and tell them not to wait up,” he told her.

  “Thanks.”

  That was the second time she’d thanked him for trivial reasons. She was definitely wound tight. He’d have to find a way to relax her. “Go on, Anju,” he said gently. He watched her walk toward the elevator before he turned to go to the store.

  Inside the convenience store, he found there were no other customers. Thank goodness. He hoped they had what he needed. The rain was now pounding and he didn’t want to go looking for a drugstore.

  He stood on the threshold and looked in all directions for the appropriate aisle for condoms. He hadn’t made such a purchase in years. It was a bit awkward.