‘No,’ I said, ‘I wouldn’t ever confuse who you are.’
Andrew flinched. His palms were off my desk.
I hope I was smiling. I couldn’t feel my face.
Chapter 12
I caught my reflection in an ornate mirror. Light from crystal chandeliers danced on it, giving my half-naked right leg the look of a painting.
‘I have great sticks,’ I said as I uncrossed my legs.
Chhaya roared her approval.
She had jumped at my suggestion for drinks and dinner, making it her treat. I protested, but she overrode it with typical Chhaya logic. Buy the bank if you can afford it. This ultra-luxe space in a seven-star hotel, the most happening nightspot in the city, Only Nights, was the upshot.
I looked around. The place was packed; I could tell by the din every time the music dropped off. The tables were tucked away in such a manner that it was hard to say if the space was full or not. This is where Bengaluru got away when she didn’t want to get papped. This is where real money hung out.
Chhaya and I had met twice after our reunion with Meena a little over a fortnight ago. Both times for our Wednesday breakfast. I didn’t bring up either member of the lovers’ circle and neither did she.
A drink or two down – gin and tonic with a wedge of lime being my poison of the evening and my CEO pal on the rocks, which was beginning to show in the wondrous disarray of her neckline – Chhaya leaned back in her seat.
‘She all but told me they were together. It should’ve clicked, babe. I should’ve known.’
I had told Chhaya everything about Andrew and me when we reconnected after completing our studies. I even told her that Meena had been in touch with him in the US. I had said it all but for the bit about him hitting on her.
‘What exactly did she tell you?’
‘That he hit on her.’
‘And?’
I couldn’t quite remember what followed, but those four words – HE HIT ON ME – had been ringing in my ears like a faulty alarm clock since our meeting with Meena.
‘I don’t think I said anything. I just laughed maybe.’
Chhaya’s expression was kind.
‘I told myself it was one day. I thought he was mad at me for not responding to his messages, picking up his calls.’ I slumped in my seat.
Initially, I’d thought Andrew would buzz me back, reach out, but as the weeks rolled and the seasons changed, I didn’t wait to lose hope; that would’ve been too painful.
I shut the door on Andrew Brown.
‘When did she tell you about him hitting on her?’
‘I can’t say when exactly,’ I said, letting the sentence hang on the uncertainty of my memory.
It wasn’t that I had spoken to Meena, or anyone for that matter, a ton at that time.
I had two, maximum four, conversations with her then.
‘Did she call when Sambrani passed away?’
That herbal essence was Chhaya’s moniker for Mummy,Sambhar Ranishortened.
‘Not on the day, but around that time. She didn’t persist, but after a few weeks, a month or two maybe, she called again. That’s when we spoke a few times.’
‘This is what I think,’ Chhaya said, pushing her hair back. ‘When you connected and she told you about Andrew, they were in a relationship. Already. That’s why he didn’t answer your calls.’
