Page 21 of Made in Mumbai

“Even you must be 34,” she blurted. His eyes rose to hers. Ok, it was just too easy to look at him. Even then he had been a good looking boy. But just a boy. A naive, simple boy. Now, he was… a man. No,theman.

“You are 34 too, right?”

He glanced back at his screen and continued reading out her degrees, her accomplishments, her strengths, her pet peeves. Not looking even a little bit impressed.

“Can be insubordinate if it’s about my creativity,” he mouthed. Then loudly — “I can see that.”

“Listen, G, I know there’s history and we got off on the wrong foot…”

“Gautam.”

“Huh?”

“Gautam,” he corrected.

“Everybody here calls you Gautam Sir.”

“You can call me that too.”

“Wouldn’t it be weird? Like… we’ve taken bites off the same idli. You’ve drunk chutney in front of me…”

“Right,” he pushed back his chair. “That will be all. If you need anything else, feel free to get in touch with Sahyadri.”

“You mean Sia?”

“That’s what some of them call her here.”

“You don’t.”

“There is a reason people are given proper names.”

“Yeah, it’s the noise somebody makes to get your attention.”

Did she see a spark of amusement in his eyes. No. It was the reflection of sunlight from the glass. He inclined his head, his hair so thick and wavy and looking just perfect on that proud face. Maya took her cue and began to rise, then sat back.

“Actually,” she started. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“What happened? To you, I mean? In all these years? I…” her face softened. “I am really happy to see what you made here. But how did you do it? You were driving trucks…”

“I was the cleaner actually,” he cut in brutally. The first reminders of her shame began to creep up her spine.

“I worked between mills and textile companies. Grew up getting to understand the business. A few years later, a mill outside Surat was closing and they needed to sell off immediately. I bought it at a dirt cheap price, restarted it, and haven’t looked back.”

Maya smiled, feeling that shame still there, but pride burn bigger inside. Like the sun that would shine brilliantly even in the shadows of the clouds.

“And now you are expanding into the designing segment.”

“Yes. That is why you are here. Made in Mumbai studio is new, the staff is not well-versed in big designers and couture shows. Our deal with Amber Raisingh is signed…”

“Wow, I thought you were still negotiating? That’s what everybody downstairs thinks.”

“It was done last night,” he declared. “Amber’s assistant designer will be here sometime this week to begin work. Make her comfortable and do this well. If we ace their autumn-winter collection then they are with us for the next three years.”

Maya blinked, absorbing all the good, and frankly exciting news. Amber Raisingh, one of the best Indian couture designers in the world. Her style was timeless, classic — silks and brocades along with the lightest cottons and mulmuls.Hello Dream, you sneaky thing that’s going to come true!

“Hello?” Gautam called out. And she smiled, jumping to her feet — “Yes, I am back. It was a nice ride in lalaland. But worry you not, I will take such good care of Amber Raisingh’s assistant that she will shift permanently into this villa!”

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