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  ‘But if you can’t get that, it’s OK. Here,’ she dropped the tray into his surprised grip. ‘Take this. I’ve got to leave anyway.’

  She turned on her heel, picked up her bag and the basket from the hotel and headed towards the door. She turned back to see Abhimanyu standing where she had left him, his expression that of muted disbelief. ‘There’s a small bowl of rasmalai on the table outside.’

  And then she was gone, closing the door softly behind her.

  4

  Abhimanyu walked into an empty kitchen the next morning. It was a Tuesday – usually the quietest day for most restaurants. Normally he would have to reorganize the kitchen, clean certain equipment and apparatus with the help of the hotel’s housekeeping staff. But after Pakhi had joined, she had taken over this task. She always ensured the kitchen was spotless before she left for the night. Along with Lalit and the rest of the boys, she cleaned every single nook and corner before she left. Abhimanyu admired this about her.

  But today, he was downright annoyed with that trait. Standing in the middle of his favourite place in the world, he realized there was nothing for him to do. The menu for the day had been decided and emailed to all his staff. Pakhi had seen to that detail as well. Damned woman!

  He knew he had to apologize to her for the way he had behaved last night – almost coming on to her and then giving her the cold shoulder. What kind of man was he? He’d behaved like a teenager. And in the words of today’s teenagers – Ewww! Not cool, bro!

  He pulled out his phone from the pocket of his jeans and dialled Pakhi’s number. He’d scream at her for sorting out his life. And then he’d apologize for screaming. Yes, that seemed like a good plan.

  The phone was answered on the third ring.

  ‘Hello?’ he said tentatively, half expecting her to scream her lungs out at him.

  Instead, a small voice answered, ‘He-O.’

  Abhimanyu didn’t know what to make of the person on the other side. He checked his phone to make sure he had dialled the right number and when he realized he had, he said, ‘Who is this?’

  The small voice on the other end said, ‘Aa-E-T.’

  ‘What the hell is an AET?’ he bellowed into the phone, his temper rising with every syllable he uttered.

  ‘Ell … ell …,’ the other voice went on. Abhimanyu was just about ready to hang up when he heard Pakhi scream into the phone, ‘Did you just teach my niece the word ‘hell’?’

  Shit! Pakhi had a niece. How had he forgotten that? ‘Yes, well … err,’ he fumbled.

  ‘Well, what?’ her irritated tone was beginning to annoy him. Again.

  Swallowing, Abhimanyu said, ‘Nothing. I’m sorry.’ And he just disconnected.

  Pakhi stared at her mobile phone in utter irritation. Was this guy for real?

  She had woken up very early in the morning to Abhithi’s cries. One look at her and Pakhi knew she was unwell; the thermometer said as much. So while trying to get Abhithi to eat a bit of porridge so that she could take her medicine, Pakhi’s mind had wandered to the previous evening at the hospital. Abhimanyu had been charming and aggravating, pleasing and dismissive all at the same time. By the end of the night, she had wanted to kiss him and strangle him, again, all at the same time.

  And now? What had that call been about? Why had he called her? And why had he apologized?

  Questions began to dance in Pakhi’s head just as Abhithi tipped her sippy cup of milk into her lap.

  ‘Abhi!’ Pakhi admonished her gently.

  ‘Ooaa, this not nice,’ the little girl said, pointing to the contents of the cup which had now formed an ugly brown stain on Pakhi’s green kurta. Wanting to salvage the cloth before the fabric was ruined, Pakhi quickly deposited Abhithi on the sofa, mopped the stains on the kitchen floor and went into her room to change. She donned a simple shift dress which fell just short of her knees. It was an old dress, one she had picked up during one of her trips to Goa.

  Her father would be back in an hour or so, just before Pakhi would have to leave for work.

  As she set about preparing lunch for her father, Pakhi’s mind again began to wander back to the conversation at the hospital, and the short, weird phone call. While kneading the chapatti atta, she wondered if she should pack lunch for Abhimanyu. She had prepared Kolhapuri chicken, which was a spicy Maharashtrian specialty, along with a simple cauliflower and tomato dry vegetable. She liked cooking at home. Her friends always teased her about not having a life outside the kitchen, but she enjoyed the flavours and aromas of the dishes she created.

  She was about to put the food into microwaveable containers, when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was her father she washed her hands at the kitchen sink and went to open the door.

  Only it wasn’t her father. Abhimanyu Dev stood on the threshold of her house. And Pakhi was positive she had flour in her hair and smelled of milk and Bournvita.

  OK, so Pakhi looked adorable in her white shift with flour in her hair and on her cheeks. And Abhimanyu Dev had just used the word ‘adorable’. Holy. Shit.

  ‘Err, hi,’ her soft voice was the first to break the awkward silence.

  But he couldn’t respond, not when he could feel another part of his anatomy responding. Dammit!

  Then out of nowhere came the thought – what would it be like to run his fingers through her hair, caress her soft, pale cheeks, kiss her like there was no tomorrow…

  Double damn!

  Clearing his throat, he muttered, ‘Hello, I was in the neighbourhood.’

  ‘You know where I stay?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Irritation seeped into his tone. ‘It’s not like you’re part of some witness protection programme.’

  And Abhimanyu knew immediately that he had pushed her too far again. The small smile vanished from her face and she stared at him coldly. ‘What is your problem? Why do you always have to bite people’s heads off?’

  She turned and walked back into the kitchen, leaving the door open. Abhimanyu took that as an invitation, entered the flat and closed the door behind him. He could hear the clatter of utensils in the kitchen. Clearly he had annoyed her enough to create a ruckus in the kitchen because she was usually a quiet worker.

  From what Abhimanyu could see, the apartment had two bedrooms, a single L-shaped hall which ended in a terrace on one side, with a small round dining table with four chairs. On the other side was the living room with a futon with light green upholstery, a TV stand without a TV, a bookshelf which was crammed with cookbooks and hundreds of children’s books as far as Abhimanyu could tell. There was also a chocolate brown three-seater sofa in the middle of which sat a tiny little lump of lemon-yellow frills.

  He smiled at the little girl who was busy trying to figure out how to spill all her M&M’s in one go. He perched lightly on the edge of the centre table right in front of her. When she saw him sitting there, she broke into a wide grin and Abhimanyu could see her six front teeth – white and small – making her look incredibly adorable. She picked up two M&M’s and held her small chubby arm out to him. Abhimanyu put his palm out in front of her, and the little girl deposited the M&M’s into it.

  In one quick motion he shot the two M&M’s into his mouth, and licked his lips for dramatic effect. The little girl started giggling and jumped up and down, causing her short black curls to fly about. At the tinkling sound of her laughter, Abhimanyu had to laugh too.

  Her eyes were the lightest shade of blue and fringed with thick lashes. Her heart-shaped face was framed by black corkscrew curls, which just fell short of her chubby shoulders. Dressed in a lemon-yellow frock, she also wore a matching hair band. In her tiny ears, she wore small gold studs, and around her neck she had a thin gold chain with an A-shaped pendant. But it was the scar on the left side of her face that broke Abhimanyu’s heart. What had happened to this cute little lump?

  Pakhi came out of the kitchen to find Abhithi screeching with laughter. She was waving h
er chubby hands in the air, trying to grab the bowl of M&M’s Abhimanyu was holding above her head. Mingling with the tinkling laughter of her niece was Abhimanyu’s loud booming version. It was one of the most poignant moments of Pakhi’s life.

  ‘Gimmee,’ the little girl squealed, flapping her arms. Abhimanyu set the bowl on the dining table, and then marched his fingers up her tiny legs, tickling the little girl. Abhithi couldn’t control her glee. Flapping her hands about in the air, she caught hold of Abhimanyu’s head, and pulled out the band he’d used to tie his hair.

  Pakhi silently watched this entire scene unfold in front of her. It was precious – there was no other word to describe it. Abhithi was having the time of her life, and, for the first time, Abhimanyu seemed relaxed. He wasn’t just smiling, he was actually laughing. She couldn’t quite reconcile this man with the man who, a few minutes ago, nearly made her wish she could stab him with her kitchen knife.

  Clearing her throat, she said, ‘Abhi?’ and immediately realized her blunder.

  Two heads swivelled in her direction. Abhithi smiled when she saw her, and started waving her hands.

  ‘Ooaa, he so funny,’ she said, pointing towards Abhimanyu.

  Pakhi looked at Abhimanyu and their eyes met. She wondered if he would take offence to Abhithi’s comment. But she saw a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He threw his head back then and laughed out loud. Pakhi sat down beside Abhithi and together they watched Abhimanyu.

  When he saw he was being observed by the two of them, Abhimanyu’s laughter subsided. ‘I’m sorry, Pakhi,’ he said sheepishly, ‘I shouldn’t have sat down here like this.’

  ‘Why?’ Pakhi couldn’t quite understand where this apology was leading to.

  ‘Why? Because it’s not proper. And I know you’re upset. I’ll leave.’ He searched her eyes as he spoke. But to his surprise, he found no anger or fire there. There was a spark, yes. But it was more of a sparkle.

  She smiled a dazzling smile that stirred something primal in him.

  ‘You thought I called out your name, didn’t you?’ she asked, her eyes twinkling.

  ‘Umm … yes. I don’t see another Abhi in this room, Pakhi,’ he said, making a wide gesture with his hands.

  ‘Actually, there is,’ she replied, smiling and dazzling him again.

  Clearing his head from all kinds of dirty thoughts, he asked, ‘Who?’

  ‘Abhimanyu,’ Pakhi said his name, and he felt the axis of his world shift. ‘Meet Abhithi,’ she said, gesturing towards the little girl who had gone back to counting her M&Ms. ‘We call her Abhi.’

  ‘Abhithi … Abhithi … Abhi.’ It finally dawned on him.

  When she heard her name being called out, the little lump of curls looked up from her task and smiled at him. ‘I am Aa-ee-tee,’ she informed him.

  Abhimanyu looked at Pakhi, seeking her help in translation.

  Looking at his confused expression, Pakhi laughed, and the tinkling sound was the most delightful thing he had heard all day. She nodded and said, ‘Abhithi. She cannot say B yet. If you’ve noticed, she calls me Ooaa, which is basically her version of bua.’

  For some reason, this little titbit warmed the innermost recesses of his heart. He smiled at the little girl then and said, ‘Hello, Aa-ee-tee. I am Abhimanyu. Can you say my name?’

  Abhithi looked at him for about ten seconds. Tilting her head to the left, she finally said, ‘I-wuv-you.’ And saying that, she launched herself at Abhimanyu, who lifted his arms in surprise.

  ‘And you taught this little sweetheart a bad word,’ Pakhi whispered, so that only Abhimanyu could hear her.

  ‘Err … yeah, about that,’ he started, only to be cut short by Pakhi.

  ‘I think you’re done with your quota of apologizing to me for today, don’t you think?’

  5

  Abhimanyu placed Abhithi in her cot while Pakhi cleaned up in the kitchen. She liked how good he was with Abhithi. She was pleasantly surprised when he told her that he adored children. She watched him now as he walked into the living room to pick up his keys from the centre table.

  He was too big and too tall. Pakhi had never been embarrassed about how short she was. It had never quite mattered to her that she was only just a little over five feet tall. For the average Indian woman, she seemed fine but Abhimanyu made her feel like one of Snow White’s dwarves. She was sure that if he hugged her, it would be like a bear hug, enveloping and warm perhaps.

  She liked that thought, of him hugging her. She could picture them standing together in her tiny living room, slow dancing to Frank Sinatra. Her breasts would get crushed against his chest as she moved closer into his embrace; his arms would tighten around her. He would pick her up then, and she would wrap her legs around his waist. He would bend down to kiss…

  ‘Pakhi.’

  The spell broke.

  ‘What?’ she whirled around to face him as Abhimanyu came to stand behind her.

  It all happened in a fraction of a second. Her foot slipped on the small wet mat near the sink. To stop herself from falling, her hands latched onto Abhimanyu’s shirt. But the overall movement shocked them both and they went down, with Pakhi sprawled on top of Abhimanyu.

  Abhimanyu’s arms were around her waist and her hands were splayed on his chest. Her hair had fallen loose from its scrunchie and had cascaded like a curtain of black silk. Pakhi could feel her nipples tightening and a slow heat beginning to uncoil deep down. She tried to get up, but Abhimanyu tightened his hold. She had been avoiding his eyes until then, but her eyes flew to his when he pulled her closer down to him.

  ‘I…,’ she began, but whatever she was going to say stopped right on the tip of her tongue as Abhimanyu lifted his head and kissed her. It was slow and languid, almost hesitant, like he was asking her permission. Stunned at first, Pakhi’s hands slowly moved up his chest and into his hair. For Abhimanyu, that was invitation enough. Deepening the kiss, his tongue meshed with hers in a rhythm that was age-old, primitive even.

  With one hand in her hair, he held her there, against his mouth. With the other he pressed her closer to him, as he ground his pelvis against hers. Pakhi could feel his erection pressing into her as her tongue explored his mouth. She loved the way his beard felt against her chin and cheeks – it was soft and rough at the same time. She could remain like this, she thought, lying on top of Abhimanyu Dev for a long long time.

  Abhimanyu’s hand was just moving down to lift up the hem of her dress, when the peal of the doorbell brought them to their senses. Pakhi got up in a flash, setting her hair and dress right. Her cheeks were flushed and lips were swollen. She looked wanton. Like a sex siren.

  She stared at him, her eyes moving all the way down to his erection as it strained against his jeans. Swallowing hard, she said, ‘That’s my father at the door, Abhimanyu.’

  ‘Papa, would you like some tea?’ Pakhi asked her father as he sat down in his usual spot on the sofa.

  ‘Yes, beta,’ he said, not taking his eyes off Abhimanyu standing behind Pakhi.

  Mr Mehra was sure he had interrupted something. He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, but his daughter and the man who had introduced himself as Abhimanyu Dev, her boss, looked like a couple of deer caught in the headlights.

  ‘What about you, Abhimanyu? Would you like some tea?’ he asked.

  The younger man shifted hesitantly behind Pakhi.

  ‘Umm … no, sir. I should be leaving now,’ he said, his voice a little strained.

  Pakhi was quick to latch on to that as she said, ‘Err … yes, Papa. He has to leave now. I will make some tea and leave right after.’ Turning towards Abhimanyu, she added, ‘I will reach the restaurant in less than an hour. I need to brief Lalit and the others about today’s specials.’

  ‘Yes, OK,’ Abhimanyu was taken aback at the way she had composed herself so quickly. ‘I’ll leave now and see…’

  But he was cut short by Pakhi’s father. Mr Mehra said, ‘Nonsense! You can leave together.
’ Looking at his daughter, he said, ‘Pakhi, I can make my own tea. Why don’t you go and freshen up? Abhimanyu and I can have a chat while you get ready.’

  Pakhi stared at her father, incredulous. What had he just said? He wanted to chat with Abhimanyu? About what? Her mind was racing with questions. She looked at Abhimanyu and was not surprised to find that his expression mirrored her own.

  ‘Papa,’ she turned to her father. But he held up his hand. And that was that. End of discussion.

  Resigned, she whispered to Abhimanyu, ‘I’ll be back soon,’ and walked out of the living room, hoping and praying her father wouldn’t use the shotgun hanging in the showcase next to the TV stand.

  ‘What did my father say to you?’ Pakhi asked Abhimanyu as soon as they got into the lift.

  He pressed the button marked ‘G’ and flicked the switch for the fan. The suspense was killing her.

  ‘Abhimanyu?’ her voice was soft as she breathed his name.

  He turned to face her and, for a moment, she forgot what she wanted to ask him. But he said nothing. Instead, he smiled at her, and stepped back just as the lift doors opened, signalling her to walk ahead of him.

  Pakhi stepped out into the lobby, confused and slightly worried. They walked to his car in silence and Pakhi was sure he could hear her frantic heartbeat. Stopping right next to his Mercedes-Benz 2013 M-Class, he held the door open for her. But Pakhi was adamant now. She needed to know.

  ‘What did he say to you, Abhimanyu?’ she demanded.

  He smiled that ridiculous heart-stopping smile that turned him into a boy and made her heart melt.

  He moved closer so that she was sandwiched between him and the car. Bending, he kissed her on the forehead. The movement brought her face right up and he caught her eyes with his. Bending down again, this time he captured her lips to relive their taste. Her hands, which had been at her sides, found their way to his shoulders as she steadied herself. He could have kept kissing her like this, sampling the honeyed taste of her tongue, but he did not want to draw the attention of her neighbours. Any moment now some old lady would open the curtains of her balcony to a scene that would be the sweetener to their evening tea and gossip.