Chapter 29
29
Sunday 15 May
I went to the office today, thinking I could work through the swirl of confusion that seems to be my thoughts these days (and also to escape La Linda, truth be told). The book of poems I had stashed in the drawer of my nightstand, untouched. I felt like if I opened it, there would be no turning back.
I was looking forward to billing some long, hard hours while ordering in brunch. In the absence of a suitable companion with whom I could have said brunch, the twisted adrenaline I get from milking some faceless corporation dry, fees-wise, would have to do.
The office was a picture of Sunday industry: smart casual threads, Nespresso coffee, and the acrid base notes of yesterday’s hangover mixed with ambition. As usual, several gung-ho juniors, a.k.a. minions, including Suresh’s and mine (Josiah and Xi Lin), were milling about, putting in face time and billable hours that we would have to slash later, but still; this being a week when several closings were at hand, one could also see a few senior associates, and even the occasional partner, hard at work, slave-driving their juniors. Then there were those partners who, despite not having any real need to be in the office, chose to come in that Sunday to seek refuge from their progenies/marriages. I took it all in and felt my anxiety ebb away. This was my safe place, my second home.
Until I entered my office and saw Suresh.
The thing is, it’s been weird between Suresh and me since
Luxembourg. We would oscillate between laughing chummily over some shared joke and stone-facing each other for extended periods of time in a day; we avoided being alone in our shared office for long (I even started smoking again just to have an excuse to duck out of the office). Even Kai commented on it when she cornered me privately in the washroom. “There’s a weird tension in the air. What’s wrong?” I told her it was because we were both fighting for the same promotion, but my private impression was it was because we couldn’t decide if we wanted to string each other’s intestines like fairy lights over the walls or smush our genitals together.
Now, happening upon him working in a slim-fit chambray shirt and dark jeans, I knew it was definitely the latter, on my part at least. I wanted to lock us together in some isolated padded cell, throw away the keys, and smush genitals all day long. My stupid treacherous libido.
I took my seat after grunting a hello at him, careful not to look at his chiseled face.
“Hey there,” he said in a neutral tone. “Didn’t know you’d be coming in today.”
“Is there a problem? It’s my office, too,” I said testily. It was my office
first
, I corrected myself mentally.
“No problem,” he said. “Just thought I’d be alone today. Get some real work done.”
“Does my presence bother you?” I countered.
“That’s not what I meant, I just meant—well, you’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, I’ve been busy with someone,” I said.
“Really,” he said evenly. “With who?”
“Remember Eric Deng? Big-shot tycoon? Yeah, we’ve been seeing each other.”
We lapsed into loud, passive-aggressive typing for the next few minutes. It was like being in a firing range. My fingers and wrists began to hurt.
“Hey,” he tried again.
“What?” I said, still typing loudly.
“This is very juvenile,” he said.
“What is?” I asked, typing louder.
He got up and came over to my side of the table. “Will you just
stop
typing for one second and have a real conversation with me? Look at me.”
I stopped typing and looked at his Adam’s apple, the least sexy part of his anatomy. Aren’t Adam’s apples just the weirdest? Find one and really study it, just take it in. Really eyeball it. What does it remind you of?
He reached out a hand and pushed the hair out of my face. “Why can’t you look me in the eye?”
I forced myself to do so, even though I was trembling. “You know why. Because I’m trying to keep this relationship a platonic one for both our sakes and you’re being really unfair.”
“How so?” He was bent over me now and exercising some kind of cobra stare on me.
“You’re being deliberately provocative when you shouldn’t be.”
He stroked my face. “Like this?”
“Don’t touch me,” I whispered, my arms snaking around his waist. He lifted me out of my seat and—
A loud rapping on the door jolted both of us apart. He fled to his side of the room just as the door flew open to reveal Kai, who was red with excitement.
“Oh, great, you’re here, Suresh!” Kai said, sauntering into the room wearing a hobo’s singlet and what looked like the shredded remains of a leper’s jeans. She called out over her shoulder, “Come on in. Your hunch was right!”
“What are you doing here?” we chorused at the same time in high, guilty voices. I was subtly hyperventilating.
“Someone special roped me in for a sweet surprise. You are going to be so thrilled,” Kai said.
That was when I saw that she had someone with her; a woman was standing behind Kai, her face partially obscured.
“Voilà, lover boy!” Kai said, stepping aside with a flourish. My jaw dropped: there was no need for introductions—I knew who she was. I’d seen photos of her on Suresh’s phone. But there was something else about her face that was familiar. What was it?
She glided into the room in a powder blue sari that was embroidered with silver thread and the tears of little Indian boys. Our eyes met briefly, her kohl-rimmed light brown ones narrowing as she assessed me. I could tell she thought of me as a threat. Kai, ever the perceptive one, sensed the crackling tension in the air and decided it was time to leave. Then it was just the three of us.
I sneaked a peek at Suresh, who was staring at her with his mouth ajar, an understandable reaction considering he’d not seen her in ages.
“Darling, I missed you,” she said to him in a throaty, intimate voice, as though I was just a coat rack with eyes and they were alone in the room. She tilted forward to kiss him even as he slid a panicked glance in my direction; but what could I do? Anousha was now in town.