The Reluctant Matchmaker (28 page)

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Authors: Shobhan Bantwal

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I sipped my first cup of coffee and watched Pinky boot up her computer.
“With so many Indians in this place, I would've thought they'd have a Diwali party instead of Christmas,” I said, referring to the Hindu festival of lights, which usually falls in late October or November.
“This is actually a combination. In fact, many of the folks here refer to it as Chri-wali.”
“Christmas-Diwali.” It made sense, since the two holidays fell so close to each other, and the basic traditions of decorating with lights and exchanging gifts were somewhat similar.
“There'll be dancing, and a DJ who plays both
Bhangra
and rock, so put on your dancing shoes,” Pinky advised. “And think about bringing a boyfriend if you have one. Everyone is encouraged to bring a significant other.” She gave me a meaningful look—just short of prying.
I pretended not to notice. “Maybe I will.” I was glad Ajit wanted to come. It would be nice to have a guy by my side when I faced Prajay—especially if Prajay's date was going to be there.
If Prajay was planning to invite her—and he most likely would—this would be my chance to check her out. The woman I'd helped him connect with.
Chapter 29
O
n the day of the party, I went through my closet a couple of times, trying to decide what to wear. It was a tough choice. I wanted to look pretty and sexy and seductive enough for Prajay to notice me, but not so provocative that Ajit got the wrong idea.
It was too late to go shopping for a new outfit.
I sort of liked my plum
chania-choli
outfit. Its ankle-length, silver-beaded skirt and short blouse with a slightly risqué neckline and no sleeves was very flattering. The
chunni
was a gauzy boa that floated around the neck and shoulders. Very ethnic—and it made me look taller. But then I thought the cream silk dress with a short, above-the-knee hemline was nice, too—a bit more formal.
Both the ensembles looked good with my complexion and long, dark hair. I held each one against me and looked in the mirror, then gave up trying to make a choice for the moment and placed them on the bed. I started doing my face, hoping inspiration would strike while I worked in the foundation. I'd never had this kind of dilemma before. I usually picked one outfit, threw it on, and I was done.
The doorbell rang downstairs, and I heard one of my parents get the door. I heard voices. A minute later I heard footsteps in the hallway outside my room and then a knock on my door. I glanced at the bedside clock. Was I was running late? Was that Ajit at my door? But then Mom and Dad would never have sent him upstairs to my bedroom.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Meena, can I come in?” It was my cousin Amrita's voice.
“Sure. Door is unlocked.”
She walked in, glanced at me and then at the clothes spread out on the bed. “Getting ready to go somewhere fancy?” she asked, one eyebrow lifted. She was wearing tight jeans and a pink sweatshirt that made her cheeks look like roses. She was such a pretty girl and so tall. I wished I had that kind of height. Some girls had all the luck.
“The office holiday party,” I replied, picking up a tube of mascara. “I can't decide what to wear.”
“Maybe I can help?” She held up the two outfits, studied them.
“Maybe you can.” While I brushed the mascara over my lashes, I saw her eyeing the
chania-choli
a little longer than the dress. “You like that?”
“It's more sophisticated and kind of sexy.” She threw me a sly grin. “Are you like ... um ... going for the siren image or the little cupcake? What does Prajay Nayak like?”
I tossed her a frown. “How should
I
know? And what do I care what Prajay likes? I'm going to the party with Ajit Baliga.”
“Oh. I thought you had the hots for your boss.”
“Where'd you get that silly idea?” I hoped my scowl looked genuine. Of course I had the hots for my boss, but I wasn't about to tell my cousin that. Already she was teasing me and enjoying it thoroughly. She hadn't stopped grinning.
She held up the
chania-choli.
“Definitely this.”
I put the mascara back on the dresser and started to unbutton my shirt. I glanced at her after I'd pulled on the
choli.
“What brings you here today? You're always studying or working.”
“I need your help with something. I'm on the newsletter committee this semester. You know I'm hopeless at that sort of thing.” She pushed the cream dress aside and sat on the bed.
“Then why'd you agree to do it?”
 
“I had no choice. They pick people at random because no one wants to do it. Everyone who's enrolled in a medical program is too busy to edit some silly newsletter, let alone write something for it.”
“It's exactly the kind of work I like doing.”
Her eyes lit up. “So you'll do it?”
“No problem, kiddo.” I stepped into the skirt and zipped up the side. “I'll help ... if you promise to help me with this ensemble and do my hair.”
“Deal.” She jumped up, buttoned my
choli
in the back, then draped and pinned the
chunni
over my shoulder.
I put on my amethyst-studded silver necklace and matching earrings.
Amrita combed my hair, expertly pulled a section of it up, and fastened it with my silver-and-faux-amethyst barrette. The rest of my hair fell in smooth waves over my shoulders. I stepped into my black, high-heeled sandals with silver buckles.
I looked almost as tall as my cousin. My face glowed.
“Thanks, Amrita. I'm glad you showed up.”
Amrita stood back and studied me. “You look beautiful. I think this Ajit guy is going to start drooling.”
I sighed at the thought of Ajit. “I hope not.”
“Why would you say that?” It took Amrita a moment to comprehend my words. “Oh ... It's Nayak.”
I shrugged and adjusted my
chunni
.
Amrita's eyes narrowed. “Is Ajit an instrument to make Prajay jealous?”
Clever girl. She'd figured it out in a split second. But then she'd had an almost perfect score on her SATs. “I'm not saying anything.” I picked up my black-and-silver clutch.
Clucking like a mother hen, Amrita put her hands on her hips. “You better be careful when you start playing games like that with your dates, Meena.”
“I'll try to be careful, Mother dear,” I replied.
Amrita looked at the bedside clock. “What time are you leaving?”
 
“Ajit is supposed to pick me up around six.”
“It's nearly that now.”
She followed me down the stairs, and we went into the family room where I could keep my eye on the driveway. It was easier to let Amrita keep chattering about the newsletter than to carry on a conversation.
The prospect of meeting Prajay's new flame was giving me a mild headache. What Amrita had cautioned me about was bugging me, too. She was right, the wise little devil. I was playing dangerous games. Never having done this sort of thing before, I doubted if I was capable of dealing with the fallout.
Several minutes later, Ajit arrived. He looked good in black slacks, crisp white shirt, and a sports jacket. Under ordinary circumstances his brilliant smile should have made my heart flutter. These were no ordinary circumstances.
Amrita was right behind me, so I introduced Ajit to her. “Ajit, meet my cousin, Amrita.”
They shook hands. “Nice to meet you,” Amrita murmured.
I could have sworn she was blushing. The roses in her cheeks looked pinker.
“Likewise,” said Ajit, and he gave her his most charming smile. “Are you the cousin that's in med school?”
“Yes.” Amrita's blush deepened, rose turning to hot pink, making me wonder why she was so discombobulated at meeting someone as easygoing as Ajit.
“So how do you like med school?” Ajit put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to one side, a gesture I'd come to realize meant he was paying close attention.
“Work, work, and more work,” said Amrita with a resigned smile.
“I'm sure you'll survive.” Ajit blinked a couple of times.
“Thank you.” Amrita's voice was low and demure.
Mom and Dad stepped into the entry foyer to greet Ajit, and they started up a conversation.
After a minute of polite talk, Ajit and I left. Ajit turned to me as he started up the car. “You look fantastic this evening.”
 
“Thanks. You look good yourself. I like your jacket.”
“What, this old thing?” We both laughed at the cliché. As he pulled out of the driveway, he asked, “Is Amrita your cousin on your father's side or mother's?”
“Mother's.” I glanced at him. “Why?”
“No reason,” he said. “There isn't much resemblance between you two.”
“None of the cousins look anything alike. Even my brothers are so different from each other, you'd never know they were siblings. Maneel is average height and weight, but Mahesh is tall and skinny. I'm the little runt in the middle, fairer in complexion and spunkier than those two.”
Ajit laughed at my words, but didn't comment. We drove mostly in silence. Ajit seemed to be deep in thought. I glanced at him once or twice to see if I had inadvertently said something to offend him, but it didn't seem that way. He appeared to be thinking. Maybe he had other things on his mind.
The party was just getting started when we got to Akbar restaurant in Edison. What caught my eye as we stepped into the banquet hall was the delightful Christmas-Diwali display.
On a round table was a lovely golden statue of the goddess Lakshmi, resplendent in a red and gold sari as she posed imperiously inside a giant lotus blossom. She was surrounded by brass oil lamps. Next to her sat a miniature Christmas tree, about the same height as the goddess, beautifully decorated in red and gold ornaments and miniature lights.
A perfect Chri-wali exhibit. East meets West.
For a minute, Ajit and I marveled over the themes of Hinduism and Christianity blending in such seamless harmony. It was such a lovely sentiment.
The rest of the large banquet hall was set up with several round tables and a polished wood floor in the center for dancing. A DJ was already at his post at the far end of the floor. Hindi movie music played softly in the background. About twenty or more people were scattered around the room, talking.
With my luck, Gargi Bansal was the first person we ran into. I had a feeling she'd seen us and deliberately decided to bump into us. Dressed in a silvery
salwar-kameez,
she put on a disarming smile, most likely for Ajit's benefit. “Hi, Meena.”
“Hi, Gargi.” Loath to seem ill-mannered, I introduced her to Ajit. Mercifully, a minute later we moved forward to chat with others.
I introduced Ajit to some other folks. My big surprise came when Deepak Iyer stopped by and wished us happy holidays. From the look in his eyes he'd already had a drink or two. But whatever it was that was making him amiable, I was grateful. I didn't want a scene with someone I'd dated once. He was even courteous to Ajit, despite knowing Ajit was my date for the evening.
A little later we saw Nishant, who, as always, had on a loud print shirt and khakis. He pumped Ajit's hand with great enthusiasm when I introduced the two. “Nice to meet you, Ajit. Stockbroker, huh? I got to talk to you, man. See, here's the thing ...” He looked around cautiously and took Ajit aside to a safe, quiet corner and started whispering. Their heads were close together. I could see Ajit paying careful attention.
While I waited for Nishant and Ajit to finish their conversation, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I came face-to-face with Prajay. My mouth turned dry. He was dressed in a dark suit and snow-white shirt—not a hair out of place. He looked bigger than usual, maybe because all the short guys in the company happened to be around us.
“Hi, Meena.” His smile was warm and ... platonic.
“Hi.” I wasn't sure if I'd succeeded in covering up my breathlessness. My tongue was tied up in knots.
“Good to see you,” he said.
“Hmm.” My tongue was untied, but still felt stiff. “How ... have you been?”
“Very busy. I've been working fourteen-hour days on a new project.” He shrugged. “Other than that, doing fine.” He studied me intently for a second, sending the blood soaring into my face. “I see you're doing brilliantly. Lovely as always.”
I cast my eyes downward. “I don't know about brilliantly, but I'm okay. I'm busy, too.”
“Paul says you're doing great. But I meant you're
looking
wonderful.” His eyes had a speculative look. “I've never seen you in Indian clothes.”
“Thanks. You're looking well yourself. Fourteen-hour workdays must suit you.”
“Hard work has its pros, especially if you enjoy it.” He inclined his head toward the bar. “Shouldn't you be drinking something, enjoying the party?”
“I will, as soon as my date finishes talking to Nishant,” I said, glancing at the two men still deep in conversation.
“Ah, you brought a date.” His bushy eyebrows lifted a notch. “Is that ... uh ... the guy you mentioned the other day?”
I nodded. “Ajit Baliga.” I let my eyes rove over the room for a spectacularly tall woman. I didn't see any. “So where's
your
date? I assumed Alpana would be here this evening.”
“Archana.”
“So where is Archana? I was hoping to meet her. After all, I've played a small part in your meeting her. I—”
“She's not here.”
“Why not? Aren't you two engaged, or at least going steady by now?” I wished I could keep the acid out of my voice, but it was hard under the circumstances—what with my skin tingling from his nearness and my heartbeat thundering in my chest.

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