“It’s not that. He’s never going to notice me ... unless I miraculously grow a foot taller overnight.”
“What is it, then?”
“I like my job, Ajit. Making drastic changes because of my personal feelings for someone seems kind of juvenile.”
With the high adrenaline level caused by the wine and dancing the night of the party, and seeing Prajay’s cool attitude, it had seemed perfectly logical to look for another job, perhaps teach Prajay a lesson. But in the clear light of day, it was beginning to look a lot less attractive.
Cutting off the proverbial nose to spite my face wasn’t a mature way of dealing with my problem.
Ajit went quiet for a beat. “It’s up to you. Think about it, and let me know soon. I have to call Brian back. By the way, they’ll pay for your travel.”
“Thanks, Ajit. I’m sorry if I sounded ungrateful. I didn’t mean to.”
“No problem. We’re helping each other.” The implied message was that I’d be helping him get ahead with his personal life.
“Um-hmm.” I thanked him again and ended the call. It wasn’t the right time to tell him I’d already set the ball rolling on his behalf where Amrita was concerned. At this rate, my younger cousins would marry and become mothers twice over long before I could even dream of a bridal shower.
“Why California?” My father looked thoroughly puzzled. “Are you losing your job again?”
I fidgeted with the fringe on the chenille throw covering my legs. I’d kept my news to myself through dinner, but I had introduced the topic of my job application and potential interview after we settled in the family room.
With their bellies full and a cozy fire burning in the fireplace, I figured it would be easier to discuss something that was sure to upset my parents. Besides, I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer.
“No, Dad, it’s not a layoff,” I assured him. This was more difficult to explain than I’d assumed. “I need a change.”
“Change? But you’ve had this job only a short time,” my mother reminded me. “I thought you liked your work at Rathnaya.”
I glanced at Mom, comfortably settled on the other end of the couch, under her own fleece cover. I wondered if she and Dad would ever understand my rationale. But then, what did they know about falling in love and having one’s heart broken?
At the moment I envied my parents’ uncomplicated relationship. For the umpteenth time in recent weeks I wished I could settle for their kind of arranged love, where two parts of a whole fitted together perfectly, despite being designed by two unrelated craftsmen who each had no idea what the other had envisioned and molded.
Mom and Dad argued at times, disagreed often, but I’d never seen a serious rift between them. They were always a twosome.
“I like my job a lot, but Ajit mentioned this job with his friend’s company in LA, and I sort of ... thought it might be good to try something different—more exciting.”
Dad clucked in frustration. “What is it with you kids and excitement?” He picked up the remote and shut off the TV, probably because this was a more serious discussion than he’d previously thought. “You have a good job with a decent salary. And it’s close to home.”
“I know all that, Dad. But my generation isn’t like yours. Most people my age change jobs several times before they hit their forties.”
Mom, always the more insightful of my parents, had another tough question. “Does this have something to do with Ajit Baliga being interested in Amrita?” She paused to give me a wary look. “You’re feeling rejected?”
I shook my head. “Nothing of the sort. Ajit and I have become friends. He thinks I have great promise in the advertising field, and the LA firm deals with movie producers and stars. He felt I might be interested in moving from a boring software company to Hollywood.” I switched glances between my frowning parents. “It’s not the end of the world, you guys. It’s a five-hour flight.”
“If it’s glitz and glamour you’re looking for, then New York City has plenty of both,” offered Mom. “Manhattan is the leader in the fashion and advertising industries.”
“True, but the job market in those industries is tight at the moment.”
“All the more reason to hang on to what you have in hand.” Dad got up from his recliner, shaking his head. “Looks like you have made up your mind. I suppose there’s no point in voicing our opinions.”
“That’s not true, Dad. I value your opinion and Mom’s.”
Mom rose from her comfortable seat and folded the fleece coverlet. It was time for the twosome to go upstairs to their bedroom and discuss my announcement in private.
“Whenever you make up your mind about something, you won’t budge, no matter what we say.” Mom placed the throw over the back of the couch. “If excitement is what you crave, then it’s best that you go to this interview. I don’t want you to say later that we stopped you from pursuing your ambitions.”
“Thanks. I may not even get the job. They’re interviewing other candidates.”
I watched them walk away, heard them climb the stairs together, and wished my relationship with them was the kind in which I could honestly tell them that excitement had nothing to do with my decision. I wished I could tell them I was only trying to escape from heartbreak. But I couldn’t.
They were my parents, not my friends.
They’d be sure to discuss me and my inane plans as they got ready for bed. Their rebellious daughter was at it again—doing these wild, impulsive things that could only disappoint her and ruin her future. Mom might even blame Akka for my actions, since this was happening on the heels of her recent visit. Poor Akka.
One thing I knew for sure now that I hadn’t quite known earlier: The conversation had somehow helped me make up my mind about going to LA for the interview. At first I’d been merely rolling around the idea with my parents, looking for their reactions—even hoping they’d talk me out of it. But the way the conversation had ended, with my getting defensive, they’d taken it for granted that I’d made up my mind about going. It had made me realize, too, that I was leaning in that direction.
It seemed inevitable. I couldn’t stay any longer and watch the man I loved settling into holy matrimony with someone else. I’d torture myself every minute, imagining her in his life, in his arms, in his bed. I needed to get away.
I got to my feet, shut off the lights, and went upstairs to call Ajit about my decision.
Ajit sounded pleased. He promised to contact his friend right away and set up an appointment, then let me know about the date and time.
With some reluctance, I went to my computer and started looking up nonstop flights from Newark to Los Angeles. I’d never felt so uneasy and undecided about anything I’d done in my life. What if they offered me the job? Was I willing to leave everyone I loved, everything I valued, my secure lifestyle, and go off on my own?
I badly needed to talk to someone. Even as my eyes scanned the airlines’ information on the screen, my hand reached for the phone. There was only one person in the whole world I could turn to. It was around seven o’clock on the West Coast. I hoped Akka was available to talk.
My cousin, Akka’s grandson, answered my call, and I chatted with him for a minute before Akka came on the line.
“Are you in trouble, Meena?” asked Akka the moment she heard my voice. My forced cheerfulness hadn’t fooled her.
“Yes.” I let out a deep breath and stretched out on my bed. “I need your advice. Again.”
“You know I’m never short on advice, charda,” she replied dryly. I could almost picture the serene smile on her face.
“You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not a soul.”
“Not a soul,” she vowed.
We talked for nearly an hour.
Chapter 32
Restless. I was hopelessly restless, though I tried hard to keep my mind on work at the office.
My job interview was scheduled for the following Monday. I was going to fly out on Sunday after
noon.
I should have been excited. To be considered for a job that required talent, skill, and ambition should’ve been flattering. The lure of Hollywood and the weather and culture of southern California should have been compelling for a young, single woman.
And yet I felt no enthusiasm. Not even for Christmas. My heartache over Prajay had pretty much ruined my Christmas spirit this year.
The California job was a great opportunity, I tried to tell myself. And Brian Murphy sounded like a nice enough guy from the brief phone conversation I’d had with him. Any friend of Ajit’s had to be amiable. Plus, Ajit had assured me that I didn’t have to accept the job if I didn’t think it was right for me, assuming there was a remote chance they might offer it to me. I didn’t think it was plausible, considering I had limited experience.
“Why the grim expression?” Pinky asked when she came into my office at the end of the day.
“I look grim?” I pretended nonchalance.
“You’ve been looking like that all day. You’ve been very quiet, too.” She gave me a speculative look. “Feeling okay?”
“Fine.” I smiled brightly. “Still a little sore from all that dancing on Saturday night.”
“Of course you’re sore. You and your boyfriend danced nonstop for hours.” She shrugged into her coat and pulled on her gloves. “He’s cute, by the way.”
“He is cute,” I agreed.
“How did you meet him?”
“My aunt introduced us.”
She wiggled her brows. “Do I hear wedding bells?”
“Hardly.” I waved her away. “You’re getting to be just like my mom. One date, and it’s a straight path to the altar.”
“Just wondering, that’s all. You two make a nice-looking couple, you know.”
“Doesn’t mean we have to end up getting married.”
“We’ll see about that, missy,” she said. Rummaging through her purse, she fished out her car keys. “Good night.”
“Take care, Pinky.” I returned to work, grateful for the peace and quiet. Paul had left a few minutes ago, so I was left all alone to finish my last memo. My eyes were tired from working at the computer all day.
It wasn’t just my eyes. My whole body felt drained—not to mention my mind. I hadn’t slept well the previous night. I needed to go home, eat a hot dinner, and get to bed early. At this rate I didn’t know how I was going to last through the week.
Other than Ajit and my parents, I hadn’t told anyone else about my interview. I’d told Paul and Pinky that I was going to California to visit my great-aunt and her family for a couple of days.
Holding on to a secret was exhausting.
I sent the memo to the printer and logged off my computer, then pressed my fingers over my eyes.
“You seem tired.”
I nearly jumped out of my seat at hearing that deep, familiar voice. My heartbeat shot up instantly.
Prajay stood in the doorway, taking up the entire space.
“Y-you startled me,” I murmured.
“Sorry. I thought you would have heard my footsteps.” He looked a bit tired, too. Must be those fourteen-hour days he’d mentioned.
“Guess the printer drowned them,” I replied. “How come you’re still here? I thought you’d be gone after the party.”
“I had some things to take care of here. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“I see.” Rising from my chair, I went to pluck my coat off the coatrack.
“Are you in a rush?” he asked, sliding his hands into his pant pockets.
I put on my coat. “Not particularly.”
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Sure.” I’d noticed his uncertain tone. “Why? You have another secret project or something?”
He flicked his shirt cuff to look at his wristwatch. “I’d like to take you out to eat.” He raised his brows. “That’s if you don’t have other plans?”
I glanced at him briefly. “No.”
“Good. I thought you might have plans with Ajit.”
“He lives in Connecticut.” I retrieved my purse from my desk drawer. “He was here just for the weekend.”
“So you’ll go to dinner with me?”
“Sorry. Can’t. I’m exhausted.” I waited for him to move aside so I could step into the outer room—Pinky’s domain. “I just want to go home, eat with my parents, and call it an evening.” I gave him my best professional smile. “If there’s something you need done, tell me. I promise I’ll start working on the project first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Are you mad at me, Meena?” He looked unsure of himself.
I’d never seen him look like this. “Why would I be mad?” I shifted closer to Pinky’s desk and placed my purse on it, just in case I needed to hang on to something solid to maintain my balance.
“I don’t know. You’ve been distant and cool since my last trip to New Jersey.”
“You’re my boss, Prajay.”
“So?”
I cleared my throat. “So there’s the conventional employee-employer distance between us,” I replied, noticing the door leading out into the corridor was shut. Prajay had obviously closed it after he’d entered the suite.
But I wasn’t worried about my safety. If anything, Prajay should’ve been worried about his. I was the one crazy in love with him, not the other way around.
“Don’t be silly, Meena.” His eyebrows clenched into a tight, annoyed knot.
“You implied a while ago that our relationship should be nothing short of professional,” I reminded him, feeling just as annoyed as he looked. But I kept my best placid face on. Besides, I honestly wasn’t in the mood to play his love manager any longer. I’d had enough of that.
I was secretly proud of my cool façade. Inside, however, my stomach was churning, nauseating me in the process. It was hunger. It must be.
“Oh, come on, we’re more than colleagues. We’re friends, too, aren’t we?” he asked.
“We are?” I searched his face. “You’re the one who said it was inappropriate for a boss to get too close to an employee.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” His hands were out of his pockets. Now they were fidgeting with his car keys. “What I did to you that evening bordered on sexual harassment. That was inappropriate.”
“I kept telling you it wasn’t harassment. I asked for it.”
“Doesn’t mean it was right.”
“Okay, then. Whatever you think is right shall be done. You’re the boss; you set the rules.” I pulled on my gloves. “Now, what was it you wanted me to do?”
“Nothing. I just want to talk to you.” His scowl remained.
“Fine, let’s talk.” I faced him squarely, trying to ignore the electricity humming through me. “Everyone’s gone home for the day. We can talk privately about anything you want.”
He sighed. “Never mind. You seem to be in a difficult mood.” He dismissed me with a wave. “Go home, Meena. You clearly need your rest.”
“You said you wanted to talk.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m ready to listen. Go ahead.”
“I was thinking of a more relaxing atmosphere than this office for what I had in mind—maybe a bite to eat, where we could really talk. Like friends.”
Picking up my purse again, I slipped the strap over my shoulder. “But you’ve made it crystal clear that we’re not friends. I’m your paid consultant, remember?” I moved toward the door, leaving him behind. “If friendship is what you want, why don’t you call your girlfriend?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
My feet instantly stopped in their tracks. I pivoted around and faced him. “Your fiancée, then.”
“I don’t have a fiancée, either.”
“Why not? What happened to your Amazon-in-a-sari?” Despite my sarcastic tone my heart fluttered a little. My lower lip started doing its usual trembling act. And I couldn’t stop it in spite of biting hard on it. Any harder, and it would bleed.
; “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
The tears were gathering momentum. They were burning my eyelids. In a second they’d come gushing out. What in God’s name was wrong with me lately? Why couldn’t I control my weeping?
This man was ruining my life, even my attitude toward life. Everything.
I took a step backward, away from his disturbing presence. “Look, I have no interest in your love life.” I swiped a gloved hand over the first traitorous tears that were pooling in my eyes. “Go find your own damn bride. Just leave me out of it.”
All my attempts at self-control had failed. I hated crying in front of him. I hated crying, period.
“Damn it, Meena! Don’t do this to me.” In an instant he closed the space between us. He scooped me up in his arms, carried me back to my office, and shut the door with his foot. Depositing me on top of my desk, he kept his arms wrapped around me. “Don’t cry. Please, baby, don’t.”
I buried my face in his chest. Instead of feeling better, I felt worse. He was making it difficult for me to hate him. He really was a nice guy, but I wanted to dislike him. I needed to dislike him, to make myself fall out of love with him. The only way I could do that was by keeping my distance. Instead, here I was, sniffling, carrying on in his giant octopus arms and ruining his beautiful shirt.
“I’m s-sorry,” I hiccupped. “I d-don’t usually cry like this.”
“That’s okay.” He rubbed my back with long, gentle strokes. “You’re tired and still recovering from an injured ankle.”
I latched on to that remark. “It’s that stupid ankle and all that medication. It’s turned my emotions to mashed potatoes.”
“I understand.” His hand moved from my back to my head. He smoothed my hair with the same soft motion. “You’ve had a lot to deal with. You’ve been working too hard and not getting enough rest.”
My weeping turned more bitter and noisy. Why was he being so kind and sweet? He was playing havoc with my equilibrium. If he’d been brusque and brutish, I’d have been fine.
I could stand up to a big bully. I could hold my own against any man, but I didn’t know how to deal with this kind of warmth and tenderness. And all the while he held me and soothed me, like he would a child disturbed by a nightmare. He’d even called me baby.
The Reluctant Matchmaker Page 28
