Page 24 of The Ex Factor

My breath turned heavy at the thought, and I quickly redirected my eyes and my mind to the menu before me.

“What would you recommend?” I asked, pretending to sincerely peruse the menu. There was only one authentic Korean restaurant in Plano and like this place, it was always crowded with impossibly long wait times.

“I love their grilled pork ribs and the gamjatang.”

“What’s that?”

“Pork bone soup.”

“Sounds good. Could we get some bibimbap?”

“You’re paying. We can get whatever you want.” He cocked a smile.

“Are you always this sassy? There’s a term in Hindi, haazir jawab.”

“Don’t know much Hindi. Barely know my mother tongue.”

“What’s your mother tongue?

“Telugu. I do speak it. But badly. Keep forgetting words. The closest I can get is Tenglish,” he said with a shrug.

I creased my brows in thought. “If your more dominant language is English, shouldn’t it be Elugu instead of Tenglish? How do portmanteaus usually work?”

“Hell if I knew!” he said, then looked at me with what I knew to be the start of one of the most precious things.

The laughter that emerged from his mouth was the most beautiful sound in the world. It was promptly swallowed up by the crowd around us, but that made it even more special. His laugh was just for me. Only I was privy to its melody, and the world had better feel envious of it.

Infectious as it was, I couldn’t last more than a few seconds before bursting into a squeal myself. It was ridiculous. The joke wasn’t even that funny, and yet here we were, laughing like we had just outdone the best comedians of the world. My eyes rimmed with the kind of happiness I hadn’t felt in a long time. The kind of tears that I really wanted instead of the ones I had ended up with after Sameer.

We only stopped because a server walked to our table with a bottle of fresh, crisp white wine and stem glasses.

“I hope this is okay,” Sujit said as she showed us the bottle. “I took the liberty.”

“It’s perfect,” I approved with a nod.

While the server poured us the wine with impeccable etiquette, I looked around and spotted soju and beer on every other table. A rush of warmth filled my core as I realized Sujit must have made this special request when he called for the table.

A vague memory rustled past me with a silent whisper.It’s the little things.

As the sweet bubbles of the wine danced on my tongue, I watched him push his sexy glasses up the bridge of his nose and gaze at me. “So what’s that term you were talking about? Haaz something?”

Extricating myself from the power of those brilliant eyes, I answered, “Haazir jawab. It means quick-witted, someone who has an instant comeback for everything.”

“So you are fluent in Hindi, then?”

“I understand it completely.” I smiled. “My dad’s family speaks Punjabi. Mom speaks Hindi, and that term has been seared into my brain because, growing up, it used to be my mother’s favorite criticism of me. That I was haazir jawab. Always ready with an answer. And I used to say, guess where I got it from.”

“Mom?”

I nodded. “She’s as smart as they come but didn’t get a chance to fly with the full extent of her wingspan.”

Shit!Had I just shared my family’s private matters with him? I had always regretted that Ma didn’t get to be who she could’ve been, but I had never voiced it so fiercely, so fearlessly before. Not even to Ma.

When I got my eyes to focus on Sujit again, I caught him studying me with intent. He picked up the wine and said, “Judging from your success, your wit certainly seems to have served you well.”

I relaxed in my chair. I was getting more comfortable in his presence, and it unnerved me. I had always been guarded since I started working, and suddenly, I was smiling, laughing uninhibitedly, and sharing my family’s secrets with a person I’d known for a couple of weeks.

When the food arrived, I graciously declared that it had stood up to all the hype that Sujit had built up.

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