by Varsha Dixit
Ex Factor
(Wallflower Series Book 3)
By Varsha Dixit
Copyright © Varsha Dixit 2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Other books by Varsha Dixit
Acknowledgements
Meet the Author
Chapter 1
Pune
The moist wind ruffled the hair that framed Gina’s forehead as she rested her face on the window of the car that was slowly pulling out from the alley onto the main road.
“Gina, close the window. Meher has turned on the AC.” Kyra Saigal called out as she tossed her bag carelessly in the back.
“Sorry! Sure.” Twenty-eight-year-old Gina Bansal straightened her head and raised the glass of her window.
“Hey! Your bag hit my foot.” Doyal Barua, the woman sitting next to Gina, remarked.
“What, I broke your designer shoes?” Kyra teased, not looking one bit contrite. The mischievous light in her dark eyes and the wide curve of her mouth displayed her good mood. The Feisty One, Wallflower #4 Kyra Saigal was an investigative journalist who thrived and excelled at her work amid war-torn areas, dangerous global situations, and conflicts of epic proportions. The more tense the situation the more Kyra thrived in it.
“It will take more than your cheap bag to break my designer shoes, so wipe that smirk off your face.” Doyal was dismissive. Tough-as-nails, The Duchess, Wallflower #3 Doyal Barua had worked thrice as zealously as any other man or woman to become the newly-minted CEO of a billion-dollar software firm. Authority and confidence were second nature to Doyal and in first impressions, she conveyed it through expensive but chic clothes, natural and flawless makeup, and a hair style with not a single hair out of place. Doyal was a brilliant, no-nonsense, walking terror to those she worked with. Her four assistants would vouch for that.
“Why are you so quiet, G-spot?” Kyra asked.
“She is probably pooping in her pants.” Meher teased. Twenty-seven-year-old Meher Chowdhury was on her way to becoming an orthopedic surgeon and was currently in her fifth year of surgical residency. Meher, unlike the seriousness of her profession, was a carefree, easy-to-get-along-with kind of a gal with a penchant for tripping over her own feet. The Shy One, Wallflower # 1 Meher was a die-hard fan of historical romantic novels and was the founder and creator of the ‘Wallflowers Club.’
In historical romance novels, which the four friends read on and off, strong opinionated women with a mind of their own were dubbed The Wallflowers. They were usually overlooked for marriage because they did not defer to men, rules, and societal norms of their times. They were harbingers of change who eventually found their true passionate love after many plot twists and misunderstandings.
Gina, because of her beauty and her reticent personality, was dubbed The Pretty Awkward One, Wallflower #2.
“Pooping, right Ginny?” Meher repeated her question when Gina did not reply.
Doyal beat Gina to an answer. “I would too if my ex-husband and my current fiancée were in the same house, and without me.”
“It will be fine!” Gina rubbed her palms on her thighs. She hated how dull her voice sounded. Her friends, who meant the world to her, had hit the nail on the head. Gina’s relationship status was more misshapen than a twisty lollipop on a stick.
Five years ago, she had met Ojas Purohit. Gina and Ojas had fallen in passionate, head-over-heels kind of love. Gina had thought Ojas Purohit to be the man of her dreams. She was wrong. He had turned out to be the nightmare that left people awake and shaking in their beds.
Ojas and Gina had been briefly together and yet their separation had not been the separation of simply two people. Their separation had robbed Gina of all her relations, her family, and her best friends. After all, Gina had betrayed them and married Ojas behind their backs.
Shunned by those she loved, Gina had changed pin codes—from India to Singapore—and discovered a new-found love for acute anxiety and panic attacks. On some days, Gina had even flirted with the idea of giving it all up to meet her maker. But she dropped the idea. She had a debt to pay. Every miserable and painful day Gina lived through, she hoped she was paying for the agony she had caused her parents. Especially her father who, until her betrayal, considered Gina, his youngest, a boon from the gods! But now she wasn’t sure if he even remembered her face.
Gina’s barely-there qualifications had placed her in a job that paid enough to cover for an apartment rent and few more basic amenities.
As days and weeks became months and then years, Gina created a new routine, a new life. A life that worked—on the surface. However, underneath the surface there was loneliness, enough to span several lifetimes. And while living the lonely life, Gina met someone. A man called Ritesh Chug!
Three years ago, she had bumped into Ritesh in a coffee shop close to her office. They had lapsed into an easy conversation while waiting for their orders. Ritesh was a recent arrival from India and homesick. Gina, who had been living in Singapore for two years, had felt obliged to enlighten him about reasonable and cheap places for food, groceries etc.
Gina experienced no butterflies as she talked to the stranger nor felt any lecherous vibes coming from him. Neither did every cell in her body sing like a canary as Ritesh’s fingers accidentally grazed her elbow. A conversation over coffee led to another coffee next week, a lunch a month later . . . and in a foreign country, Gina made her only friend.
A few weeks ago, Ritesh had proposed to Gina and she had accepted.
Did I do that as an excuse to get a divorce from Ojas or do I really want to move ahead with Ritesh?
Gina reached out for the bracelets on her wrist and touched them. The feel of the familiar oval beads under her fingers helped her calm her scattered thoughts. Her therapist had recommended Gina to use the bracelet as a technique to control her anxiety.
Five years ago, the anxiety had been so intense that it had often reduced Gina to a shivering mess, unable to move, talk, or even think straight.
With medications, therapy, repetitive exercises and a lot of help from t
he eighty-year-old Marwah Aunty—her only relative in Singapore—Gina had managed to become one of those women who lived on their own and earned for themselves.
Gina bit the inner lining of her cheek. Why did I come back?
Her dark eyes roved over her friends. They were still arguing about something trivial. Doyal seemed to be wining yet Kyra and Meher appeared to be having a blast needling Doyal. Kyra caught Gina’s eyes, winked, and then poked her tongue at Doyal.
Gina exhaled.
I have them! I’m not alone anymore.
Gina shifted her long ponytail and draped it over her shoulder. She went back to gazing out of the car window.
“Does Ojas own a gun?” Doyal asked.
Gina’s neck jerked back, her eyes big and round. “What? Why? I think he does.”
“Just wondering if we will find your finance vertical or horizontal,” Doyal said, her head lowered as she read something on her phone.
Meher and Kyra’s chuckles were soft but audible.
Gina gnawed her bottom lip. Ojas Purohit, her ex-husband, was not a man known for his patience and was prone to verbal assaults with a propensity for flinging things. Gina started pulling at her bracelets, trying to keep her actions quiet.
Will I find Ritesh in one piece?
Chapter 2
Gina glanced at her right hand wrapped in light gauze. The swelling on her forefinger hadn’t receded completely. Tentatively, she wiggled her fingers of that hand and was rewarded with a stab of pain for her efforts. In her hurry to get ready, Gina realized she had forgotten a few things, her wallet and her painkillers among them.
The injury to her hand was another reminder of how the man she once called her own had changed.
The last time she had seen Ojas, Gina had encountered him in one of his darkest moods. The reasons for his rage were unknown to Gina. In that anger, Ojas had flung something heavy across the room—a heavy paperweight.
Exasperated herself, Gina had put her hand out and had stepped in the way of the air-borne projectile.
The three-pound paperweight had hit Gina’s hand with crushing force. Her bones snapped.
Gina’s soft whimpers had filled the room. Gina keeled over and Ojas had caught her.
After that accident, Ojas had undergone a 180-degree turn. He had rushed Gina to the hospital and fawned over her like a mother.
Ojas had been quick to sign the very divorce papers he had been stalling over and had provided round-the-clock medical care to Gina even as she was ensconced in Meher’s house.
Ojas had made his intent clear—Gina would never have to suffer him again.
But Gina was far from satisfied.
Picking up Ritesh wasn’t the only reason I’m going to Ojas’s house.
Meher braked hard and Gina lurched out of her thoughts.
“Have you ever driven a car woman?” Kyra yelled.
“Oh, shut up! I just saved a goat.” Meher retorted as she changed gears and resumed driving.
“Nowadays it’s all about saving turtles. Didn’t get any memo about goats,” Kyra said, because Kyra always had something to say. “What would you save Doy, goat or turtle?”
“Gina’s present from her past,” Doyal said, still focused on her phone.
Gina exhaled. “You are over thinking! Ojas signed the divorce papers, didn’t he? He kind of gave his blessings to Ritesh and me.” She did not feel her heart perform cartwheels at the thought. Gina passed it off as a distraction because of so much unfolding.
“Then why are you looking grayer than the car mats?” Meher said, watching Gina in the rearview mirror.
“Gee thanks!” Gina rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. It is not an ideal situation to have Ritesh around Ojas, but I’m not worried.” Gina adjusted herself better against the seat. She started inhaling deeply and then stopped when Doyal gave her a sideways glance.
Gina shrugged and smoothed her jeans. “I’m cool!”
Ritesh and I will work out perfectly because he and I know each other and there are no false expectations or pretenses between us. I’m no longer a naïve woman chasing idealistic and unrealistic love.
Gina closed her eyes and tried drumming up an image of Ritesh’s face. She saw his thick eyebrows and dark wide eyes behind his rectangular glasses. Gina waited for the rest of his face to appear. And waited! And waited! It didn’t!
Eyes still closed, Gina frowned, and her nose twitched. She just couldn’t remember the rest of her fiancée’s face. She gritted her teeth. C’mon Gina, what is wrong with you? This is the face of the man you have known for the last so many years. Think harder! Gina pressed her eyelids rather tightly. Ritesh’s nose is wide. . .is. . .I think wide and his mouth is. . .I think his mouth is. . .his mouth is. . .hell! His mouth is. . .
“What are you doing G-spot?” Kyra said.
Startled, Gina’s lids few open. “Nothing!” She was quick to snap.
“Why were you frowning? Headache?”
Amongst other things! “Yeah, not a big one though. It will go away.”
“I have some painkillers in my bag,” Meher said.
“I’m good, Mahi. It will go away once I eat something.” Gina fibbed.
Delicate sounding chimes filled the interior of the car. It was Doyal’s phone. Doyal glanced at the number and then immediately, said to Meher. “Pull over to the side? It’s my assistant number two. I need to take this call in private. It’s important.”
“Assistant number two? Is that a code for your boyfriend?” Kyra twisted her torso as much as human bodies were allowed to twist.
“You have a boyfriend, Doy? Are you talking to your boyfriend? You can talk in front of us, we won’t tell.” Meher cooed, winking at Kyra.
With Kyra and Meher, one could never tell. One moment they could be clawing at each other like a pair of angry cats and in the next second, they were as tight as best friends could be.
Kyra grinned. “Yeah, we won’t tell. Just print it in the national news.”
“I will kick your asses!” Doyal fumed, waving her phone.
“I have never had anything designer on my ass.” Kyra goaded.
“Damn, it’s gone to voicemail.” Doyal snapped. “Meher, pull over.”
“When she finds a place Doy. We’re not going get killed over a phone call. If you tell us who it is then maybe. . .” Kyra trailed off wickedly.
Meher bobbed her head. “Right, then maybe!”
Doyal cursed loudly.
Gina shook her head, humored in spite of the grimness waiting for her a few kilometers away.
“Will you stop the damn car? It’s not funny or complicated like someone else’s stuff.” Doyal made the snide comment with just enough ambiguity to not make it sound like she was shading Gina.
Gina glanced at Doyal. Doyal Barua, even in college, was the most focused and most ambitious amongst the four Wallflowers, yet she was one of the nicest girls Gina had ever met. Gina and Doyal had been close even though Doyal was not a loquacious person.
However, since Gina had come back to India five years after, Meher and Kyra had welcomed her with the warmth of best friends. But not Doyal!
Doyal had been suspicious and unforgiving of Gina’s actions. The Doyal of today was cold, distant, and never missed a chance to taunt or diss Gina. Every married woman’s favorite kind of mother-in-law!
Gina brushed her hair to the side. Can’t blame Doy, I did manage to screw up my life rather royally.
“Meher, pull the fucking car over!” Doyal rarely drop the ‘F’ bomb. She prided herself on being perfect in everything, including language.
“Whoa! She is serious.” Meher gave the indicator and pulled into the first parking lot that came up on the right. It took them next five minutes to find a parking spot, during which Doyal made impatient sounds by constantly clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
Kyra, of course, had to mimic her and then Meher had to mimic Kyra. There was lot of tongue clicking sounds inside the car.
; Gina bit her lips to hide her smile. My favorite kind of idiots!
No sooner had Meher pulled the car in the driving spot,
Doyal opened the door and jumped out. She went straight to stand under a young Bael tree that barely gave her any cover.
I missed out on so much! Gina studied her nails. Around her friends, Gina realized how much of life had gone past her. Birthdays, anniversaries, first day at work, hell looking for and finding work, I missed so much. Now it can all change, I don’t have to live in a limbo anymore. I get my divorce, my freedom. Then I…I can marry Ritesh? The last thought left Gina more worried than satisfied. Wanting to distract herself from her discomforting thoughts, Gina raised her head to look at Kyra and Meher. They were watching Doyal with open interest so Doyal presented her back to them.
Chapter 3
“Is she always so high-strung?” Gina asked.
“Since she got promoted to the CEO position, Doy has been like this,” Kyra shared.
“After we passed out of college, it was very hard to pin any of us down for some time; we just went our separate ways,” Meher sighed.
“We were like those boy bands that fell apart,” Kyra added. “Bad hairstyles and broke!”
“Was that because of how I ran away?” Gina asked, her voice low.
“Of course not, Ginny. Just making our careers,” Meher was quick to reassure.
“Yeah! Not your fault,” Kyra added.
“But you all got back in touch, right?” Gina asked, stretching her injured hand.
“Doyal stayed in touch with both of us and then she kind of roped us back,” Meher shared.
“I don’t think Doy wants me here,” Gina confided. “I’m positive she hates me.”
Kyra smacked Gina’s knee. “Don’t be silly, Ginny. She’s just tightly wound-up because of her work.” Kyra put her feet up on the dashboard and tucked her arms behind her head. “Ginny, Doy might seem harsh but when you left, she made us promise something.”
Gina’s brows came together briefly and then flattened. “What?”
Meher leaned out of her seat. “She made Ky and me promise that we would meet on the group chat 7th of every month. For you! To remember that we have a fourth Wallflower who is gone. Every 7th of every month, every year. And sometimes, Meher and I might have dropped a ball on that but Doyal did it without fail.”
