“You all right?” Rohan patted my shoulder.
I moved my body away. “Yeah. I…um….” I didn’t know how to explain my day. And I remembered Rohan got irked when I brought up Jay when we were eating dinner at Mom’s Recipes.
He moved his hand, but I saw a tinge of sadness.
Am I totally ruining the date? My first date with Rohan? I need to stop. My cagey behavior is making matters worse.
As soon as we sat down, Rohan asked, “What will you drink?”
I touched his hands. “I’ll have whatever you are having, Mr. Brady.”
“I am glad to hear that.” He ran his fingers over my lips.
I twitched and moved a few inches away. Jay had run his finger from my third eye to the top of my lips right before he got inside the cab. The memory was still fresh.
“What happened?” Rohan asked.
“No. Nothing.” My voice became slightly shaky.
“You pulled away, Ahana.”
I sat wordlessly.
Rohan got up and walked up to the bar. From the corner of my eye, I saw him observe me. I tried to organize my thoughts—what do people on a date talk about? But I also checked the entrance to see whether Jay was lurking.
Rohan quietly walked back to the table, “You look beautiful, Ahana. I mean it.” There was sincerity in Rohan’s eyes, which I noticed. My name sounded different in his mouth this evening, more personable.
“Wow, a straight-faced compliment from Rohan Brady. Am I dying?” I checked his forehead to see whether he was warm. “Or maybe you? Haha. How do you say it, Rohan? ‘I crack myself up.’”
“Somebody is a little too animated this evening.” Rohan took a sip of his drink.
I so wished I could talk to him about why I was such a wreck. I so badly wanted him to know I hadn’t abandoned him. But I couldn’t do it; Rohan had advised me to avoid Jay.
“What did you order for me?”
“Sazerac.”
“They know how to make Sazerac here? Pretty impressive.”
“Honestly, the bar didn’t make the drink originally, but thanks to my patronage, my favorite bartender, Anthony, has now learned it. I can get a taste of New Orleans inside a glass.”
Before either of us could say anything further, the server brought out two drinks.
Rohan looked at the cocktail in the martini glass. “I didn’t order that.”
“I know, sir.” The server paused. “It’s from the gentleman at the bar for....” He pointed at me.
“Whaaaat?” Rohan and I spoke at the same time. His face became stern.
My face tightened—was my behavior with Rohan so erratic this evening that even a stranger had found an entry point to mess things up? Was the chemistry between us so irrelevant that even people didn’t see us together? Was my vulnerability and internal chaos so visible that a random guy at the bar thought he could buy me a drink despite another man around? Or was it that Jay had followed me to the bar? I had to know.
I bent my head at an angle to get a good look at the guy from the bar. It wasn’t Jay. I smiled out of relief. But my timing was bad. Raising his drink to me, the guy at the bar smiled back.
Rohan gritted his teeth. “Looks like your Prince Charming came early? Or the guy you are going to take home tonight.”
I sensed sarcasm in Rohan’s voice.
“But I want to drink the Sazerac, Rohan.”
“I couldn’t care less.” He looked detached. I touched his hand. He moved it away.
In my head, Rohan was being cruel. I refused to let any tears flow. I took a sip of his Sazerac.
He didn’t say anything.
I took a few big gulps, the way one would drink mango lassi. My eyes widened as the alcohol aggressively traversed from my mouth to my insides. It tasted like nothing I had ever tasted before, but it heated me up like a furnace. I took another sip or two in quick succession. I started to fan myself. I rubbed my throat, but finished his drink.
Rohan held my right hand.
“Tell me, Rohan, what do you care?”
He didn’t say anything.
“I thought as much.” I pulled my hand away and then drank the cocktail.
I slowly stood up from the table. I wanted to let go of everything that was holding me down. But I could barely move with two potent drinks inside of me.
A bit wobbly in my steps, I slowly started to sway my hips to “Get Up, Stand Up.” Then it was my arms in the air, running through my hair. I shut my eyes and rocked my entire body. It was cathartic.
“Fuck.” Rohan realized I was about to trip. He stood up and stared at me. I had never seen that look in his eyes. His eyes followed my hips, my chest, my hair as I danced to the music.
I came slightly closer to him and tugged at his arm. And in doing so, I lost my balance. He was swift and caught me by my waist. I clung to him. He smelled nice. I wanted to run my hands through his hair. I wanted to be in his arms all night, swaying to Bob Marley’s music. We were so close—the space between us was inconsequential now.
I put my scarf around his neck.
“All right. I think we’re done for the night.” Rohan cleared his throat and asked Anthony to bring him the check.
“You wuss!” I gently played with his collar.
He tilted his head to one side. “I’m dropping you off home.” He draped my scarf around my shoulders and handed me my purse. He held my coat.
I kissed him on his lips. A long, wet kiss. Rohan pulled himself away and stood in disbelief, it would seem. I pinned him against the wall.
He caught me by my wrists. “Ahana, why are you acting this way?”
I stopped moving. I knew I couldn’t carry on the pretense—the way I had for Dev for so many years. I didn’t want to pretend with Rohan.
Before going to the restroom to splash water on my face, I asked the server to bring me a cup of coffee. When I returned, I slowly sipped on the coffee and told Rohan everything that had transpired with Jay. My face was still flushed.
“You dodged a bullet today, Ahana!”
Before I could say anything in response, Rohan slammed the table. “I warned you about Jay. But you fucking didn’t believe me.” I saw a hardness on his face. There was anger radiating from it. He curled his fists. “Every finger in his hands with which he ever hurt you, I am going to break them. Period!”
My heart felt very out of place. “Jay was nice when we first met online.”
Rohan rolled his eyes. His nostrils started to flare. “Why do you think he was nice to you? Why was he always available to chat? Men don’t just make friends with women in their thirties so they can discuss their wardrobe problems or heartbreaks. Sex. Yes, that’s what they want.”
“Is that what you want too, Rohan?” I searched for answers in his eyes where I had once seen respect for myself; today, all I saw was anger.
“Really?” He turned toward me. “Is that what you think?” He pushed his drink away. “You are comparing me to Jay?”
I tried to breathe.
He covered his face with his hands. “Sometimes you can be so naïve, Ahana.” Rohan brought his index finger to his lips. He sighed loudly, “He fucking researched you and read up on you. He did his homework—found out about your likes and dislikes. What you do, where your family lives, the story of your life. He pretended to be in the same place as you just so he could have an in. And when he realized you weren’t going to fall for him or part with your wealth or play along and act like an emotional slave, he understood the best way to damage a woman of your morality: get you into bed sneakily because he couldn’t get into your pants using his I-am-a-fucking-victim-whining-shit.” He finished his entire drink in one gulp.
The confidence in Rohan’s voice irked me.
“He didn’t count on his plans failing. Jay doesn’t know you, so he miscalculated his moves. I’m going to find that son of a bitch and kill him. And, you…” He pointed at me. “You need to be a little less clueless.”
“Rohan.” I
spoke softly. I had never known him to speak roughly with me. The shift in our friendship dynamic baffled me. My eyes welled up. I played with my pendant and readjusted my clothes. I got up unsteadily.
He grabbed my hand.
I narrowed my eyes at him and pulled away.
“Fine. As always, walk away. Leave important conversations incomplete, Ahana.” He got up from the table.
I picked up my coat and started to walk with a slight stagger.
“I will call for car service.”
“No, thank you; I can manage.”
“We have all seen how good you are at taking care of yourself.” He took his phone out.
He put me in the car and made sure he tipped the guy extra. I saw him from the rear window as the cabbie waited for the lights to change. Rohan ran his fingers through his hair and pulled his palms over his face. He angrily kicked a pebble on the street.
I felt guilty for having repelled Rohan.
- 28 -
The next morning, I woke up with a throbbing pain in my head, grasping at the air in front of me. I moved my slightly entangled hair from my face and squinted at the sunlight hitting my eyes. I stretched my right arm to check the time. It was 9 a.m. “Fuck.” The first word out of my mouth in the morning, for the first time in my life.
I ran my eyes over my body. Shit. I didn’t change out of my clothes after getting home. Or wash my face. Or take out my contacts. My feet were jammed inside the high heels I’d worn the night before. I picked up the wood butterfly hair claw from my nightstand and sorted my hair.
I threw the covers off and slowly sat up, leaning against the headboard. As I started to get up, my body felt in knots. It was as if the Sazerac, the cocktail, and Bob Marley’s music had never left my system. My every cell felt sore. I tried to make sense of everything that had transpired.
The harder I tried to repress the memories from the night before, the more alive they became. Rohan’s handsome looks and his sensual lips. The maddening scent of his body. And our fight because of Jay. I closed my eyes and let out a soft grunt. Rohan had cut the night short.
I leaned on the doorframe. So many more thoughts raced through my tired and emotionally charged mind. What did I know about men? Was it something in me that made men resort to their worst instincts?
I will avoid Rohan to make things less awkward. But wait, I need to work with him on the conference. I began to sweat profusely from underneath my arms and along my spine. I felt humiliated and angry with myself for having let my guard down. I somewhere knew that I had hurt Rohan. But I had no idea how to handle the day, so I took a hot shower. I curled up my legs and sat in the corner, crying. Where am I to go from here?
Rohan had become a big part of my life, and the thought of avoiding him made me feel like a wounded animal. Aside from the conference, where I had to work with him, there was Naina’s wedding in New Orleans. Rohan Brady wouldn’t be the reason I would miss a family function. But how will I look him in the eye?
Suddenly, New York felt like a city full of sorrows.
* * *
I wiped my tears and rubbed my pendant. Mumma, what kind of a mess have I put myself in?
The phone rang right around the same time and I jumped out of fright. I put on my glasses and looked at the screen. It was Josh. There were several missed calls and texts from Naina, and a few text messages from Jay.
I picked myself up. My body and heart still ached, but I brushed my teeth and combed my hair and started to read the messages in the order received.
Josh’s text said, “Call me as soon as you get this message, Ahana.”
I felt nauseous.
Next, I looked at the message from Jay. “Hey, babe! Trust you slept well last night and too many dreams didn’t keep you awake.” There was a wink at the end of his sentence. I rolled my eyes. Jay sounded so perky in his texts yet so low-energy in real life.
There was another message from Jay. “See ya at noon today for brunch.” But we never made plans for brunch. The last message read. “I will swing by your apartment at 11:45 a.m. and we can go vroom vroom vroom from there.” How does he have Naina’s address? I called the doorman and left him with explicit instructions not to let any man up to the apartment.
As I put the kettle on the stovetop, I read through Naina’s messages and listened to her voicemail. It didn’t sound like Josh had told her anything. She was anxious to know about my date with Rohan.
I brewed my Earl Grey and looked at the bright sunshine burning up the sky. I messaged Naina. “Sorry; just woke up. I’ll call you in a few.”
There was no response from her; figured she was busy.
I wanted a breath of fresh air, so I opened the living room windows and dialed Josh’s number.
I didn’t know at the time I would be opening doors to the biggest scare of my life.
Josh answered the phone on the first ring. He asked whether I was OK and whether Jay had made contact again.
When I told Josh that Jay wanted to meet me for brunch, he said, “NO WAY!”
Before I could say anything, he continued, “What if I were to tell you that Jay Dubois isn’t who he says he is?”
My legs felt heavy.
“I had his records pulled.” Josh sounded grave. “Jay spent time in jail for aggravated assault.”
“How do you know any of this is true?” I spoke so loudly that I startled myself.
“For cops, there is a central database we have access to. But I have friends at the FBI who have higher security clearances. I had them delve into Jay’s life—where he lives, who is a part of his life, where he works. You know.”
I stood up so suddenly I felt dizzy. Jay had hurt many of us, but to think we had shared our most emotional moments with a criminal without any prior knowledge of his background. What else did we not know about him?
“How can this be happening?” I clutched at my chest. I looked outside the window. Is Jay lurking around the corner? I even walked to the main door and peered through the peephole. What if Jay sneaked into the building last night?
“I get that you’re in a state of shock, Ahana. But Jay is a sociopath.”
“But he looks like a regular guy.”
Josh interrupted me. “We have a perception of what a sociopath does or how he or she behaves. We think sociopaths…we assume sociopaths are serial killers and rapists and monsters.” He spoke kindly. “I know it’s not easy to accept, but that’s the truth. I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure.”
“Has he had any anger management issues while interacting with you?”
“Yeah.” I collapsed on a barstool. “He has an erratic temper and a cruel tone.” I paused and looked out the living room windows. “He never takes any responsibility for his actions, and he has a habit of making others feel guilty…but what has that got to do with his criminal record?”
“I just forwarded you something from a colleague. Read through it, but I want you to stay on the line.” Josh spoke with a sense of urgency.
I browsed through my inbox. “Attached is a comprehensive background report on Jay Dubois that I pulled up from Lexis. The DOB and address appear correct. I checked to see if he had any criminal records on the Pacer website and found sufficient information on him. By the way, records show this man never lived in New York, worked there, or filed for any taxes. His wife is the one earning and paying taxes in Baton Rouge for them. What a slick fucker!”
I read and reread the email. My feet turned cold but my face was on fire.
Jay had shown me pictures of Brooklyn, New York, where he lived. He had shown me pictures of the garden and the flowers that he cared after. He whined that he was all by himself in NYC.
“Are you there?” Josh enquired in a caring tone.
“Yeah…I mean…how did he fabricate all these details when he never lived in NYC?” I went into the kitchen and filled up a glass of water.
“He probably stole other people’s pictures online and mailed them to
you as his own. Or clicked the pictures during one of his visits.”
“I’ve mailed him gifts.” Pacing up and down the living room, I took a sip of water. I spoke coarsely so I would get some strength in my spine.
“Was it a P.O. Box number or a full mailing address?” Josh asked me in a very cop-voice.
“A P.O. Box number for Baton Rouge. And another time, it was an address, also for Baton Rouge.”
“Can you send me the address where you mailed him the gift?”
“Sure.”
“I am sorry, Ahana. Jay is not only married, but he lives in Baton Rouge in a house owned by his mother-in-law.”
My heart sank as Josh and I compared the address where I had sent mailed gifts to Jay to the one on file. They weren’t the same. I buried my face between my palms. “What about his father, Josh? Does he live in Brooklyn? Or was that a lie too?” I let out air.
“I need you to sit down for this, Ahana.”
“What is going on, Josh? Please. Just tell me.” I put the phone on speaker and placed it on the kitchen counter as I refilled my glass.
“Jay’s mother is alive and still married to Jay’s father. They both live in Baton Rouge.”
A vacuum of silence threatened to pull me into it. The glass of water slipped from my hands. Pieces of glass spread across the floor. There was water everywhere…on the floor, on my shins. I couldn’t feel a thing. I could hear a faint voice call out to me, but I couldn’t hear anything. My body pressed against the refrigerator as I dragged it down. I collapsed on the floor without realizing that a small piece of glass was underneath my right foot. Blood. My heart broke into a million pieces as my foot started to bleed.
Shock stemming from betrayal can make a person feel so small; I’d had no idea. The ground started to feel like it was moving away. I pulled out a shard of glass from my heel. I kneeled on the floor down on my knees in Hero Pose. I rocked my body forward and backward as if trying to remember and forget everything Jay had told me about his mother. “I know pain, Ahana. I understand what losing a mother can do to you. I hate that I will never feel complete. I hate that we will never have a family picture for Christmas postcards. On some days, I feel so broken without my mother, Ahana; I wonder if I would be so lucky as to never wake up from my sleep.”
Louisiana Catch Page 27
