PART TWO.
"Now remember, you go out there, serve the drinks and come back. No dilly-dallying
with the customers. I don't take kindly to that kind of behavior.", the lady in
the crisp white suit droned on.
"Yes ma'am." Khushi replied for maybe the hundredth time that night.
She had just secured-or may be pleaded would be the right word-herself a
job as a waitress at Rico's.
Rico's was one of the most famous joints in the city. A modern
club-cum-restaurant, it catered to all the high and mighty's of Mumbai's crowd.
No wonder she had to beg her friend to get her a job here.
Run by an Italian named Rico-duh!-it
had become the place to be. The food
was good, the drinks were better. Also, the waitresses moving around in their
skimpy outfit helped spread the word about the club's fame.
And so here she was, being lectured since an hour, about the do's and do not's of the oh so exclusive
club. And she was bored out of her mind. But she needed this job. She could not afford to get fired. Again. Or to resign. Again.
So she nodded her head, put on her best sincere expression and said that
yes, she would efficiently serve the drinks.
No, she would not chat up the customers.
No, she was not a kleptomaniac.
And yes, she understood this was her trial run, they were doing her a
favor in this economy, and she would be grateful to them.
She just stopped herself from saying that may be they would like to be
named on her epitaph?
Utterly uncomfortable in the tight black skirt, which skimmed her knees,
but looked like a second skin, highlighting her thighs thoroughly. And a white
shirt, which was a size small, because surprise-surprise she had a chest. Which
was apparently not in vogue. You had to look like a stick with no curves if you
wanted to be in.
But Khushi had never been cool. She was the studious types in her school,
with great potential. If only she could have gone to college. But life had
dealt her a bad hand. And she wasn't some wussy to cry on her fate.
No, she did what she had to do, and survived.
Even if it meant wearing a too tight shirt with a too tight skirt and
sheer stockings.
And don't forget the stilettos. Four-inch stilettos. How was she supposed
to serve if she couldn't even walk properly? Gracefulness was not one of her
strong points. She had literally stumbled through her life. She hadn't worn
heels ever.
But she wasn't fool enough to tell this to the dragon lady who was
breathing fire down her neck.
And really, how hard could be walking in a pair of four-inch heels really
be?
Very hard, Khushi
discovered just fifteen minutes into her shift. She had already stumbled
thrice, narrowly missed crashing into a table and has stepped on a guys toes. If
this continued, she would be out of here. The dragon lady was already giving
her the stink eye.
Okay. Breathe. You
can do this.
You just have to be calm, and walk without stumbling. One foot in front of
the other. Left then right.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
See? This isn't so bad. She was doing it. May be she won't be fired after
all.
And then she made the mistake of looking up.
And the world suddenly stopped moving.
All breath was sucked out of her body.
She stood there, afraid that she would blink. Blink and find out that this
was just her imagination.
In front of her, sat the most beautiful-there was no other word she could
use-man she had ever laid her eyes on. He was sitting, almost lazily, seeming
laid back. But Khushi saw that it was a ruse. The man was like a predator. Never
calm. Never laid back. Always on the hunt.
If some disaster were to strike right now, she knew that he would be the
one in command. She didn't know how she knew it. She just did.
The man gave out almost a dangerous appeal.
She didn't know what to look at first. She wanted to take all of him in,
not miss a single detail about his face. She didn't know where to start.
His hair, combed back from his face in an elegant manner. She wanted to
run her hands in them and see if they were as soft as they seemed.
His nose, which was slightly crooked. How did that happen? Sports injury? Suddenly
it was imperative that she found out.
His jaw, with his day old stubble. She wanted to run her hand over his
jaw, and see if it was prickly.
His lips- oh, his lips- so firm yet sensual. How would they feel? How would
they look if he smiled?
But most of all his eyes. She couldn't see their color from this far, but
she knew, that it would be different. Like him.
Was this what attraction felt like?
Lust?
She had no idea. No experience. She just knew she had to talk to him.
Once. Just once.
She would go, take his order. He would have to speak for that, wouldn't
he??
And no, she wouldn't be chatting up the customers. She would be just doing
her work. So smoothing a hand over her shirt and skirt, she made her
way across the floor, to his table, careful not to stumble.
And then Khushi Kumari Gupta did, what she did best.
She stumbled and fell face down on to the lap of Arnav Singh Raizada.
____________________________________________________________________________
Arnav was having dinner with Akash at Rico's. It had been months since
they had last met.
Akash Malhotra was the only man Arnav would call a friend. A tall
be-spectacled man, with calm eyes and a ready smile, he was a software engineer,
and as different from Arnav as anyone could get. He had first met Arnav at
their college dorm. While Arnav was doing masters in business, Akash was
preparing for his engineering.
Akash had a calm aura surrounding him. And Arnav had a restless energy
with in him. Both complemented each other.
For all their differences in their looks and behavior, they were very
similar to each other.
Both wanted to prove their name in the world. Both of them believed in
hard work. And both of them preferred silence to inane chattering. So when they
had first looked at each other across the hall, measuring each other up, and
then nodded, both of them had known, that here was a man they could respect and
maybe be friends with.
That was all it had taken. A look and a nod.
And now they had been friends for over a decade.
But there was a huge difference between the two.
Akash was a family man. Happily married to his wife, Payal, for five years
now, and the proud daddy of a one year old son, Moksh.
"So, are we going to sit here having idle chit-chat, or are you going to
tell me what's wrong? Mind you, I am okay with both. You know I love talking
about Moksh. I can tell you all about his teething and his crawling. For a
Godfather, you are very much absent from his life.", Akash drawled, looking at
Arnav.
"Why would you think anything is wrong? Everything is okay. And you know
business has been hectic this past few months. I love Payal and Moksh. Tell them
I will be coming for lunch soon.", Arnav replied.
"I sure will. She will be very
happy. Now, about the matter that's bothering you.", Akash again asked, knowing
fully well, that something was bothering him.
Arnav clenched his jaw, and then forced himself to relax. Maybe this
dinner had been a mistake. Akash was like a dog with a bone tonight. And nothing
was bothering him. It was just, that the felling of restlessness since the
morning hadn't left him. He had thought maybe drinks and dinner with Akash
would relax him. But this was turning out to be difficult. And no way was he
spilling his guts to Akash. Even if he had known what the problem was.
"I am breaking up with Lavanya." Arnav blurted out.
"I was wondering about that. It has been six months now, that you have
been together. A long time by your standards." Akash said, wondering why was
this a problem.
"Its not working out." Arnav said in a defensive voice.
"When has it ever Arnav? Tell me, don't you want to meet someone whom you
can one day love? Have a family? Or do you want to die an old lonely man with
no one by your side?" Akash tried to instill some sense in to him.
"Akash…"
"I know. We have had this conversation a number of times. And your answer
will not change." Akash blew out defeated.
"Exactly! There's no way Arnav Singh Raizada will ever fall in – what the!!!!" Arnav screamed as
something just landed on his lap.
No not something. A lady. With her face down. On his crotch.
With a growing sense of disbelief he looked at her raising her head up.
And then he got a look at her face.
Molten brown clashed with hazel green.
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