The Reluctant Matchmaker

by Shobhan Bantwal

  Mentioning the boss instantly wiped the frown off Mom’s face. “So what is he like, this Prajay?”

  “Nice enough,” I replied and took a casual sip of my juice.

  “What does that mean? Is he friendly?” Mom made this impatient gesture with her hand. “Does he have a sense of humor? Is he smart?”

  “Mom, I spoke all of four sentences to the man.” I put the glass down. “I was in agony at the time.”

  “Of course you were.”

  “Later I was under the influence of strong painkillers, so I can’t really answer your questions.”

  “Hmm. Guess you’ll have a chance to get to know him better now.”

  “Mom, you have to understand something: He’s a big man, a giant, and I’m a little mouse. The twain shall never meet.”

  Mom took off her apron and smoothed her pants and tunic top. “One never knows. Stranger things have happened.” Having made her final comment, she picked up her purse and walked out of the kitchen.

  Dad shot me an amused look and patted my face. “Have a nice day, charda, and don’t strain yourself.” He turned around as he reached the door. “Call me if you need a ride home after work.”

  I finished my breakfast and settled down to wait for Prajay to show up. Once again the nervous fluttering started in my belly. Our first encounter had been the most dramatic kind. Our brief conversation had occurred after he’d placed me on the couch in his office, and that had been rather strange, too.

  I had sent Prajay directions to our house by e-mail the previous day and hoped they were clear enough. I waited in the family room, my purse beside me, watching the clock ticking away. At 7:52 A.M., I began to wonder if Prajay had forgotten about me.

  However, some ten minutes later I heard a car pull into the driveway and looked out the window with relief. And I couldn’t help frowning. A red Toyota Camry with faded bumpers and a dent in the fender came to a stop outside our door.

  A rich man like Prajay drove that? My idea of a little sports car or a sturdy Jeep, or even a Hummer, disappeared in that instant. But then he was an Indian, and we desis were a stingy bunch. He probably poured all his profits back into the company and enjoyed no luxuries.

  Oh well. I lifted my purse and stood up, then let the right leg get used to the weight for a second before I proceeded to the foyer to open the door. The doorbell was already ringing.

  Prajay Nayak stood on the porch. “Good morning,” he said very politely in that deep voice of his.

  He looked more disturbing than ever. Without my high heels my eyes were on a level with his chest. He wore a dark gray suit with a cream shirt and a maroon tie with gray splashes. I raised my eyes all the way up to make contact with his. Jack and the Beanstalk came to mind. He wore dark glasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes.

  “Good morning,” I replied in a voice that sounded a little hoarse. Now that I was facing him, the flutter in my belly climbed up. “I—I hope the directions were okay?”

  “Fine. Sorry, I’m running a little late, but I had to borrow a friend’s car.”

  “Oh.”

  “So you’d be more comfortable,” he explained.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Getting in and out of my car would be rough for you,” he said.

  “That’s very kind of you.” That explained the Toyota. The poor man had been forced to drive a beat-up old sedan because of me. So exactly what car did he normally drive?

  Despite his dark glasses I could tell he was looking at my sneakers. “How’s the ankle?”

  “Not too bad, thank you,” I said in a more normal voice. Now that the ice was broken, I felt much more at ease.

  “You’re sure you’re ready to return to work?”

  “Oh, yes,” I replied cheerfully. I was more than ready to get back into my routine. “I just have to set the burglar alarm and lock the door.”

  “You go ahead and set the alarm, and I’ll get the door,” he offered and took the keys from me. He waited outside while I punched in the code, then stepped out. In one quick motion he locked the door and handed the keys back to me. “Want me to carry your purse?”

  “Thanks, but I can manage.” A mental image of Prajay carrying a small navy handbag with a gold clasp made me smile inwardly.

  He opened the car’s passenger door, then gently helped me in before proceeding to his own side. I felt like an invalid and wondered if this was the way he treated his grandmother.

  Prajay’s legs seemed awkwardly folded at the knees as he settled himself behind the wheel and started to back out of the driveway. “This is a nice house, Meena,” he remarked.

  “Thanks.” Now that I was so closely packed inside the confines of the car with him, my awkwardness returned. He seemed to fill the entire space. “I’m sorry you had to give up your car just for me,” I said after a long silence. We’d already reached the stop sign a block from our house.

  “It’s no problem. Besides, my friend was happy to make the exchange.” He grinned at me, the gesture both unexpected and attractive. “If I don’t watch out he’ll want to keep my Corvette indefinitely.”

  “You have a Corvette?” I couldn’t help smiling. His grin was infectious. “What color?”

  “Nothing exciting. It’s gray, more like silver.”

  “Are you kidding? I love silver cars. Mine’s a silver Mustang.” It would have been nice to go for a ride with this man in his Corvette. Instead he was stuck driving me in an old Toyota. But he had grinned, and it was still very pleasant sitting beside him and hearing his nice voice.

  He merged into the heavy rush-hour traffic on Route 1. Seconds later we came to a stop at a red light. “Looks like we have something in common, then. We both like sporty silver cars.”

  “Um-hmm.” I glanced at him, while his long fingers beat a tattoo on the steering wheel, waiting for the light to turn green. A little impatient, I decided, watching those fingers with their blunt tips and short nails. Wanting things to happen in a hurry wasn’t a bad trait. It was the mark of a quick brain. “Thanks for the flowers,” I remembered to say. “They’re lovely. You didn’t have to, you know.”

  “You’re welcome. It’s standard practice at Rathnaya when an employee is ill.”

  Oh well, so much for my thinking that he’d personally arranged for the flowers. That effectively shut me up. What was I thinking, dreaming up all these romantic possibilities? I was worse than my mom. Prajay was just being a nice guy and a polite boss, while I was casting him in the hero’s role. I forced my gaze back to the road and kept it there all the way to the office. Good thing it was only a short drive.

  When he pulled into his reserved spot right by the front of the building, once again he went around the car to open my door and assist me in alighting. He opened the door to the building for me and then walked extra slowly through the lobby to keep pace with my awkward shuffle toward the elevators.

  A few of Rathnaya’s staff were arriving at the same time. Prajay and I got some curious looks. I could practically hear the rumor mill buzzing: Prajay Nayak drove Meena Shenoy to work. You think something’s going on between those two? They belong to the same caste and all, nah?

  Inside the elevator, we were surrounded by a bunch of people. I smiled and nodded at the ones I knew.

  On the sixth floor, Prajay got off with me and made sure he delivered me safely into Pinky’s custody. Then he said to me, “I might be late leaving the office this evening. Hope that’s okay?” When I nodded, he hurried out the door and disappeared.

  I hadn’t even said a proper thank-you and he was gone. I sighed.

  Pinky’s amused comment brought me back to reality. “Must be nice being chauffeured by the boss.”

  “Kind of awkward.”

  Pinky gave a sly smile. “How’s the foot?”

  “Much better. And I’m almost off the painkillers. I only need one at night so I can sleep.”

  Paul ended his phone call and came out of his office to greet me with a welcomi
ng hug. “How’re you feeling, kid?”

  “Almost back to normal, thank you.”

  “Prajay make it to your house okay?”

  “Yes. He had to borrow a friend’s Toyota so I wouldn’t have to wiggle in and out of his Corvette.”

  Paul’s eyebrows flew up. “Very thoughtful of him.”

  I agreed and opened the door to my office. It looked like Pinky had tried to neaten up my messy desk without actually disturbing my paperwork. I smiled at her obvious efforts.

  Although I’d been out less than three working days it felt like weeks. It hadn’t been fun being cooped up in the house, wondering what people were saying about my accident—mainly speculating over Gargi’s loose comments.

  Once I sat down at my desk it was easy to get into the swing of things. I’d been working on two press releases the previous week, which I managed to complete and put on Paul’s desk for his review. Then there were some letters to be drafted, to be sent to the governor’s office, the appropriate state senator and assemblymen, and some local politicians, about the company’s latest acquisition. The politicians would be happy to hear that the move would create more jobs in the state. Later, Paul and I worked on our latest ad for NJ BIZ magazine.

  I attended one minor meeting late in the afternoon. By the end of the day my ankle was beginning to ache. I’d probably been putting too much weight on it as I’d limped back and forth several times to the ladies’ room, the conference room, and the copier.

  When Paul and Pinky got ready to leave for the day, they both looked at me with concern.

  “You going to be okay until Prajay shows up?” asked Paul.

  I smiled brightly. “Of course I will. Go on home, you guys.” If Paul didn’t get home on time, Jeremy was likely to call.

  “Want me to stay with you?” offered Pinky, but I noticed her eyeing the clock.

  “Don’t be silly.” I waved her away. “Your kids are waiting for you.”

  After Paul and Pinky left, I browsed a bit on the Internet, going to various sites to look at our competitors’ ads. I always liked to see what others were doing to boost their business.

  I didn’t have to wait too long for Prajay. He called a few minutes before he showed up, giving me time to brush my hair and freshen my lipstick. “Sorry to have made you wait, but I had a few things to finish up,” he explained.

  “It’s nothing,” I said and stepped out. “I should be the one to apologize for being in your way.”

  “It’s no problem, Meena. My condo is close to your home.” Once again Prajay helped me into the car with all the grace he could muster. I stumbled a little while climbing in, but managed to get the seat belt fastened.

  Going home was much easier than the ride in to work, but the trip was longer because it was dark outside and the evening traffic was heavy. I could converse more freely, now that I knew he was easy to talk to.

  While stopped at a traffic light, Prajay turned to me. “So, how do you like working for Rathnaya?”

  “I like it a lot. It’s different from anything I’ve done in the past.”

  “Paul tells me you’re very efficient.”

  I knew Paul thought highly of me because he’d told me so. Nonetheless my cheeks warmed. “Paul’s a kind man.”

  “He may be kind, but he’s a tough manager. He didn’t have nice things to say about the last person working in your position.”

  “I heard.” Pinky had filled me in on the lazy young man who’d been goofing off and doing a lousy job overall. Apparently Paul had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt for nearly six months, but the guy had blown it time and again, and ended up getting fired.

  “I’m glad to have someone good on board this time,” said Prajay as the light changed and we started to move once again. “We can use all the help we can get in the PR area, especially with a name like Rathnaya.” He must have heard me chuckle, because he briefly turned to smile at me. “I told Nishant nobody would take us seriously with a silly name like that.”

  “Nishant’s the one who decided on the odd name?”

  “His father did. Some astrologer advised him that the name should have exactly so many consonants and syllables in a certain pattern.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “It’s supposed to bring good luck, according to Nishant’s father.”

  I pondered it for a second. “Well, looks like the astrologer was right. The company’s been growing steadily since you started it twelve years ago. You’ve acquired two companies, are in the process of buying up a third one, expanded your public sector presence, and have taken on more subcontractors.”

  Prajay gave a satisfied nod. “You’ve been doing your homework.”

  “I had to, before I interviewed with Paul and Nishant.”

  “No wonder they were impressed.” He turned the car onto my street. “Nice work on the press release about our acquisition. . . and on the new ad campaign.”

  I didn’t know he’d already seen the new ads. “Thanks,” I replied, feeling ridiculously pleased. I was beginning to like this guy more and more. His fierce face was starting to look rather attractive, too—even the nose didn’t look all that big. When he smiled and his features softened, he looked ... nice.

  I was almost sorry when he pulled into our driveway. I had enjoyed the ride immensely. When he walked me to my front door and opened it for me, I asked him if he’d like to come in for a cup of tea or a soda, but he thanked me politely and declined, citing more work to do at home. “I’ll pick you up around quarter of eight tomorrow,” he said and strode back to his car.

  “Thank you, Prajay.” I stood at the door and watched him drive away.

  Such a pleasant giant, I thought.

  Chapter 7

  I rode back and forth with Prajay for a total of five days, before I felt sure I could drive myself. It was with regret that I told him I was well enough to do it on my own. I wished I could prolong the rides indefinitely, but then he’d catch on to my lie, especially since I had begun to walk more normally.

  The rides together had been especially delightful because we had talked about a lot of things, the business, our respective hobbies, our favorite movies, music, and just about everything. As we’d discussed various individuals from our Konkani community, we’d discovered that we knew some of the same people, especially since he had spent part of his childhood in New Jersey.

  Best of all, Prajay and I had laughed a lot. I’d not only come to respect him and his capacity for hard work and his keen business sense, but I also genuinely appreciated him as a person. I didn’t know when he was planning to return to Washington, but I hoped it wouldn’t be anytime soon. I wanted to get to know him better.

  During the following week, I didn’t see Prajay at all, much to my disappointment. I knew he was in the building because I’d seen his Corvette parked in his reserved spot. Each day that week, I had put on one of my most impressive outfits, hoping to run into him. I had even lingered in the break room on the ninth floor to chat with a few people who I was friendly with, but there had been no sign of Prajay. It was as if he were hiding in some deep, dark cave.

  I heard from Paul that Prajay and Nishant were neck-deep in negotiations with the Jersey-based software company they were about to acquire. That explained his absence despite being in the building. When I left for home every evening, the Corvette was still in the parking lot. I told myself that he was just another nice guy. And my boss. Nothing more.

  By Friday night I was convinced that I’d probably never see him again.

  On Saturday evening Shabari-pachi and her family decided to join us for a potluck dinner. The two families often did that, pooled whatever they had in their respective refrigerators and threw together an informal meal. It often ended up being an odd medley of leftovers, but it was fun to have my aunt and uncle, cousins, and both my brothers to lounge around with.

  My cousins, Amrita and Lalita, were twenty-five and twenty-three respectively, and we got along well. When w
e were growing up we used to fight like alley cats, but as adults the three of us were like sisters—still arguing furiously at times, but basically close.

  Amrita was a final year medical student, and Lalita was in graduate school, studying for a master’s in bioengineering.

  Shabari-pachi, who strongly resembled my mother, swooped down on me like a vulture just as we were finishing our dinner. My hopes of having a satisfying family get-together dissolved when I noticed her curious expression. “I hear Prajay Nayak is your boss ... and he’s sending you flowers?”

  “They were a standard ‘get well’ bouquet ordered by his secretary,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

  “But Kaveri tells me they were expensive roses. Desis are stingy about things like flowers. If he sends roses it has to mean something.”

  “They were nothing special.”

  “But I understand he’s been driving you to work and all that.” She winked at me, trying to be subtle. But she didn’t have a subtle bone in her body.

  I sent my mom a blistering look across the table as I ate the last bite of the chicken with spinach curry on my plate. She’d blabbed to the whole world. “Prajay Nayak merely offered me a ride for a few days because my ankle was sprained and his condo isn’t too far from here. Since then I haven’t seen him.”

  “What’s this I hear about you falling at his feet?” teased my cousin Amrita with a wicked smirk. Tall and shapely, with long silky hair and a killer smile, she knew exactly how to yank my chain.

  “I fell on my rear end and made a fool of myself,” I said blandly.

  Mahesh joined in the conversation with gusto. “Fell flawlessly, so she could show him her legs, just like in the movies.”

  “Watch it, Mahesh,” I warned.

  Maneel, not to be outdone, threw in his contribution to the tease-fest. “Then she conveniently decides to use the poor, unsuspecting guy to chauffeur her for several days. Very clever, slightly devious,” he said with a mock impressed look.