Page 62 of Made in Mumbai

“Yes?” The doctor called out.

“It’s me… umm, Gautam. Is Maya Kotak still here?”

“Wait a second.”

Murmurs. Then — “Come in.”

He pushed the door open and peeked, wary of the scenes he might be witnessing. But everything was as he had left. The doctor’s consultation office was on one side and Maya was lying on her examination table on the other side, the curtain partition open between them. How did Maya get such special treatment wherever she went?

“He’s the infamous boss?” Dr. Rekha quirked a dark eyebrow. Gautam frowned, stepping inside the room. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“If one knows Maya, one knows everybody she knows,” the good doctor laughed. She had a very gentle, motherly vibe to her. Even in her green scrubs she looked like she would pull down a pan and begin breakfast for her grandkids. No doubt Maya called her Rekha Aunty.

“What are you doing here?” Maya called out to him. His muscles tautened.

“I drove you here,” he clipped, venturing deeper into the room until he was standing by her high bed.

“I’ll leave you two to it. Maya, rest here for half an hour. I am here until then. Once I check everything again by 4ish, you may go home. Ok?”

“Yes,” she nodded, tiny tears leaking from the sides of her eyes.

The door shut behind the doctor and he leaned over Maya — “Why are you crying?”

She shook her head, using her sleeves to wipe her eyes — “All pent up emotion.” She tried to smile at him — “Thanks for waiting but you go now. I’m all good.”

“So, it is also good?”

Her brows drew together.

“It…” he waved a hand over her belly. And a serene, tender smile stretched across her face.

She was breathtaking. Really, really… breathtaking. It had taken him all these months of her working at his company to acknowledge that fact to himself. That teenage M had been beautiful, of course. He hadn’t seen a modern, fighter city girl before her. So he was bound to be infatuated. But this one, this one was not a girl. This was a woman. And she smiled like that only when her child was mentioned. He had only seen it a time or two on her face. Otherwise she was all grins and naughty smirks, creating chaos where it wasn’t needed and spreading confetti where nobody gave her heed. She wore expensive clothes, carried branded bags, and had lunches with the domestic help staff. She stood up and fought where she was defending somebody else, but also kept quiet when the company was at stake. She couldn’t care less about ‘professional conduct’ with him, but she embodied professionalism when representing Made in Mumbai outside.

Yes, M had been adorable, and beautiful. But Maya, with her large dark brown eyes and perfect wavy hair, her round red mouth spouting perfect nonsense and the sweetest compliments was breathtaking.

“Itis also good.” She chuckled, running a hand over her belly, her dress the only covering over her. He set the box on the nearest desk and shrugged out of his suit jacket.

“What are you doing? Are you not going?”

“Why would I go?” He covered her with his suit jacket. She swallowed.

“You…” she started. Then scratched her forehead. She often did that when she was confused, or out of words, which wasn’t often.

Gautam pulled a stool and sat beside her.

“You want to celebrate now or after you are discharged?” He asked, popping the buttons on his cuffs and rolling them up.

“What celebration?”

“This,” he placed her cake box on top of her face. She laughed, catching it in time. “Shit, you remembered?” She cracked the styrofoam lid and took a deep whiff. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure. He glanced away before that reaction made him think thoughts that were off limits.

“Heaven sweet heaven…” she moaned. “Save it. Please take it away from me or I will not be responsible for my attack on a poor lump of cheese and chocolate.”

“In that case,” he plucked the box back, “let me celebrate.”

Gautam reached inside the box, swiped a finger-full of cream cheese and popped it into his mouth. He smirked as her eyes widened, then narrowed. “I am going to kill you,” she mouthed, thankfully respecting the late night hour and the hospital silence. He went to take another swipe but she snatched the box back and hid it in her side. Her eyes were half angry-half incredulous. No tears left now.

“You ready?” Dr. Rekha knocked, then entered her office. Gautam got to his feet and stepped back as she drew the curtains. Ten minutes later, they both emerged, Maya carrying her clutch and the precious cake box between her hands.

---