Page 18 of The Ex Factor

Back in my office, I watched the short video of Kitty’s violin recital that Devi had texted me. She was good and played better than a seven-year-old should be expected to play. Then I answered emails that needed my urgent response. Half an hour later, when I packed up and went down, I saw Aarti sitting in the lobby with an impatient look on her face, typing furiously on her phone.

“Ms. Bhatia, you’re still here?”

She looked up. “My stupid driver had a fender bender. The service is sending another car.”

“You know there are cabs and rideshare services in the city, right?”

She looked at me like it was an alien concept or a highly dubious one. I laughed.

“Let me drop you,” I offered.

“No, that’s alright.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s not a long drive to your hotel, and it’s on the way to my place. Please, I insist.”

She sighed and stood.

“Let me call the service and tell them I don’t need the car here.”

I nodded and waited while she placed the call. She indicated we walk while she talked. Imran pulled the car around, and I opened the door for her before she reached for it.

“Allow me, Ms. Bhatia.”

“Sujit,” she whispered near my cheek, and the hair on my neck stood to attention. “I sobbed in your arms last night. You’veseen me whimper like a child. I think it’s safe to drop the honorifics.”

“I thought you said you wanted to keep this formal and business-like,” I teased.

She responded with a frustrated grunt before slipping inside the car. I don’t think I did a great job of reigning in my amusement as I came around through the other door because I saw Imran watching me in his trusty mirror with a twinkle in his eye. But I made sure to keep my eyes off him as we rode in silence.

Beside me, I felt the soft touch of Aarti’s perfume. A gentle, pleasant smell. Unique but not overpowering. And yet, strangely powerful. Or maybe that’s how I felt about her. When I threw a glance in her direction, I found her looking at me with a tender gaze.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said in a voice meant for private conversation.

“Sure,” I replied. “It’s no bother.”

The uncertainty of our dynamic was starting to trouble me. One moment, we were joking and teasing, and the next, the gravity of our situation, our curious connection, came bearing down on us. I could see it in her behavior as well. She wanted to put last night behind us, reverting to her professional detachment, yet I saw her soft eyes when she smiled and teased.

“Would you like to join me for dinner?” something prompted me to ask, but I instantly regretted it. When she threw a quick glance at me, I added, “Unless you already have other plans, of course.”

“No,” she replied with a decided haste in her voice. “I have nothing else tonight. Dinner sounds good.”

“I know a nice bistro. Let’s see if they will accommodate us.”

“I’ve looked you up, Sujit. Something tells me they will,” she teased.

And there it was again, the lighthearted exchange. I decided I liked this better. I enjoyed her teasing. I liked her quippy mouth.

“Marco’s, Imran.”

There was a twinkle in his eye, but with a perfectly courteous voice, he said, “Yes, Boss.”

SUJIT

Aregular at Marco’s, I had my own table, a quiet spot in a corner.

“What will you have?” I asked Aarti when Fernando came for our drink order.

“A glass of the sparkling white, please.”

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