One Indian Girl(59)

‘Okay, that was a little weird,’ I said.

‘Totally. Did not expect that.’

I could feel my head swim after two drinks.

‘Though I must say I was flattered,’ Neel said.

‘Really? Why?’ I said, pretending to be ignorant even as I fished for more compliments.

‘Well, even at my age he thought I could be with you. That’s a compliment.’

‘Well. True that,’ I said. ‘All that running is surely helping.’

We clinked our glasses. I don’t know if it was the champagne, the beautiful setting or that Neel made me feel comfortable, but I found it easy to talk to him.

‘You should come here with your wife,’ I said.

‘Huh?’ he said, slightly surprised. ‘Yeah, Kusum would love this place. Who wouldn’t?’

‘So you guys met in college? Love at first sight?’ I said. I don’t know if I had overstepped the line. After three glasses of champagne, all so-called lines seem pretty blurred anyway.

‘Yeah, you could say that, yeah,’ Neel said, after deliberating for a second.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.’

‘No, it’s fine. Kusum and I were in the same class. She was born and brought up in the USA. I mostly lived in the UK. Both of us were desis, yet Westernized. I guess we connected.’

‘How wonderful,’ I said.

‘Yeah. Absolutely,’ he said. He became quiet. He took a big sip from his glass and spoke again. ‘How about you? In love pretty hard? Moving countries.’

‘Never again. This love business is not for me,’ I said. I took a knife and cut across the heart-shaped cake.

‘That’s symbolic,’ he said. ‘A knife through your bleeding red velvet heart.’

I laughed.

‘Pretty much what happened. Discarded like used tissue. Switched like a TV channel,’ I said.

‘Ouch, I am sorry,’ Neel said. ‘Though, excuse me, I am a bit surprised.’

‘Surprised?’

‘Like who were you dating? Brad Pitt?’

I laughed. ‘Not really. Just a regular guy. Job on Madison Avenue. Why?’

‘How on earth could any guy leave you?’ Neel said.

His words felt like cold menthol balm on my bruised, wounded heart. I could have cried, but girls who cry in front of their bosses are losers, and those who do in front of the boss’s boss are the biggest losers.

‘I am not. . .that. . .great,’ I fumbled for words. What I wanted to say was ‘Tell me more about why I am great.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Neel said and counted on his fingers. ‘You are smart, successful, fun to talk to, young, hard-working, funny and, well, I shouldn’t be saying this as your senior, but you know. . .’ He paused mid-sentence.

‘You know—what?’ I said.

‘I don’t want to talk out of turn.’

‘It’s okay.’

‘Well, you know, you look pretty good. Very good, in fact.’

Wow, did Neel Gupta just try a line on me? But wait, did Neel Gupta actually find me good-looking? And did he mean all those other wonderful things he just said?

I felt loads of self-esteem shots being injected into my bloodstream.

‘You are just saying all this to make me feel good,’ I said. It meant, say more.

‘No. Why would I? I mean it. You are, professionally and personally, one of the most amazing people I have ever met,’ Neel said.

I swear I felt the sand shift beneath me. Neel stared me right in the eyes. We had a moment of silence as I heard the splashing waves. I absorbed his compliment. Someone as cool as Neel found me attractive. It was all too much. Something had to short-circuit in me as I gave the most idiotic response.

‘It’s okay if I send Marcos the term sheet by tomorrow evening, right?’ I said.



One month later

‘Whole-wheat toast. Faa sang zoeng mat,’ I said. I had finally learnt to order breakfast at the Goldman café. Neel and I were the early arrivals, at 7.30 a.m.

Neel took his black coffee and a bowl of oats. A month since our Philippines’ visit, we had the term sheet signed. We had also reached settlement with the banks.

‘I can’t tell you the details. But I have good news,’ Neel said.

‘We have a buyer?’ I said, excited.

‘Shh!’ Neel said and placed a finger on his lips. ‘Yes. We could be going to meet Marcos soon and finish the deal.’

‘Cool,’ I said. ‘Take over the loans on one side and sell the company on the other.’

‘What we call back-to-back deals. No risk on books. Best deal ever,’ Neel said. We gave each other a thumbs-up. He reviewed the deal-closing documents.

‘Looks good. Fingers crossed. Buyer on board soon,’ Neel said.

I put the documents back in my laptop bag. These last few minutes of our daily café meeting had become my favourite part of the day. It was when Neel and I discussed things apart from work.

‘How is your new apartment?’ Neel said.

‘I love it. Thirtieth floor, great view. Still doing it up,’ I said.

‘Check out IKEA, they have good home stuff. Neat designs, good price,’ Neel said.

‘Sure. Will go there. Need to join a gym too.’