Page 14 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

That didn’t mean I was averse to the idea of a special someone, particularly if that someone fell straight into my lap…or descended a staircase right into my arms.

What was it about this woman that consumed me so?

Throwing one last glance in Sona’s direction, I walked away without making any further eye contact with Mom.

I spotted Sameer at the bar, flanked by his friends and cousins. After brief hellos, the younger ones gradually scampered away, leaving Sameer and me at the bar. I terrified people, I had been told.

A magnificent brunette in a curve-hugging dress approached us.

“Blaine. So glad you could make it,” Sameer said.

Blaine smiled at him, then threw a coy glance at me.

“I want you to meet my sister.” Sameer addressed her again. “I’ve been telling her about your boutique, and she’s excited to discuss a collaboration of sorts.”

Blaine laughed a humble laugh. “I’d love to meet her. Thank you for inviting me. We have been trying to get our feet into the Australian markets, and this might be just the thing.”

Sameer returned a proud, wide grin. “Let me get her,” he said and stepped away.

I nodded at Blaine and asked, “What will you have?”

“White wine, please.” Another coy smile.

I turned to the bartender. “One white wine and a scotch on the rocks.”

“I don’t think you remember me,” she said. “We met at Sameer’s party a few months back.”

“Oh yes, of course. Nice to see you again, Blaine.” I handed her the wine, but my eyes wandered toward Sona. By a strange coincidence, she looked at me just that moment. Her eyes scanned me and the woman beside me.

With some effort, I made polite small talk with Blaine. When Sameer returned with his sister in tow, I excused myself and walked away. If this was any other day, Blaine would’ve been in my bed that night. It’s what she’d wanted too. But that evening, my heart remained fixated on Sona.

I shook off thoughts of her and found Dad chatting with his friends. I grabbed a seat next to him and exchanged formalities with everyone around the table. But as the chatter around me continued, I found my mind drifting toward the gorgeous woman tormenting me. I caught her in my peripheral vision and stole a quick glance. She was seated next to Mom, and the two seemed cozy enough to pass off as old friends.

Then, she laughed. A heartfelt, carefree laugh that made her nose scrunch up. This time, the word that crossed my mind was cute. I was too old for that word to be anywhere in the vicinity of my vocabulary, and yet, here I was, admiring her cute laugh. Fuck!

I had to find a way to get closer to her. Excusing myself from the gang of aging overachievers, I stepped toward the pergola where women in lavish clothing and expensive jewelry reveled in laughter. I sauntered over in a way that would catch my mother’s eye.

“Mihir! Come, join us. I’ve hardly seen you these past few weeks,” she called with what others might have construed as a warm smile, but I could always spot the mischief in her eyes.

I pulled a chair near her.

“So, who are we gossiping about tonight?” I asked and took a sip of my scotch, throwing Sona an intentional look.

“Why would you assume we’re gossiping?” Sona took the bait but instantly turned stiff as all eyes converged on her.

Gotcha! I knew Sona had spotted the wicked grin in my eyes, and Mom’s face said she was highly entertained by our exchange.

“Sona is right,” Mom said, giving me a faux glare. “This is stereotyping and borderline misogynistic.”

Sona’s eyes flickered as she exchanged a warm smile with Mom.

Mom continued, “Sona, you were about to tell us about your research.”

Sona smiled. “My work revolves around gendered spaces in the public sphere.”

“Like in politics?” Mom asked.

“Yes, but less obviously political spaces too, like the women’s compartment or entire women-only local trains, or women-only nights at bars and clubs.”

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