Pratap found himself in the same pub where he was two weeks ago. His friends were not in town, and Saturday evenings needed some distraction. He believed he liked the pub and its food, perhaps. He ordered a drink at the bar and scanned the crowd of strangers. He sighed inwardly in disappointment. He had tried his usual hangout the last weekend and oddly found the woman he took home to her place for the night uninteresting. She kept investigating his status through a series of questions. It felt like an interrogation, and he soon realised she was not ready for something casual. Then he was amused at himself. Even if he did find a familiar face here, there was no way he could approach her now with the complexity of work between them. In the past week, he had been supervising the project, and it did not escape his notice how Kiran took credit for all of Ajabdeh’s hard work. He did not intervene because it was not his place to. The air of formality that hung between them, with Kiran and Shivam always around, kind of increased his interest oddly. The Ajabdeh at work was a different, reserved personality from the one he encountered that night. The mystery around her persona that waited to be unravelled kept Pratap on his toes. He found her unpredictable and challenging. She behaved as though she had never encountered him. A part of him was bothered by that, even when the rationale of his brain knew why. Pratap could not help but stop thinking about the night. He could feel the tension between them from across the room, and in the moments their eyes met, he anticipated she felt the same way. A part of him needed to know he was right. So, here he was at the pub once again.
To fix his ego, to put it bluntly. He needed to see her again. Know that she felt the tension. Reject her and move on. Feel better about it. Another part of him did not want the awkwardness to increase in the workplace. This was tormenting and complicated. He did not sign up for it. His eyes found her in the furthest corner of the room as she chatted with a friend, as the crowd on the dance floor parted. He did not know why he waved across the dance floor, but she did spot him, a little surprised. Today her dress was replaced by a jumpsuit, and she pushed across the floor, drink in hand, towards him.
“I thought you said this was not your usual hangout.” She frowned.
“Oh, so you can talk to me without adding the sir in the end?” He raised his eyebrows as she looked amused.
“You want me to call you darling then?” A chuckle followed her sarcasm as she looked around. “Alone?” He nodded. Ajabdeh put her drink down on the counter and looked at him keenly.
“ Are you stalking me?” She asked suspiciously.
“Don’t you think that is far-fetched, given I have all your details now?” He asked, raising his eyebrows with a chuckle as he sipped his drink. She nodded.
“Well, I did look you up.” Ajabdeh tilted her head closer and confessed. “You were right about not telling names. I will keep that in mind next time.”
“So you are saying my social profiles were… off-putting?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in shock. Ajabdeh smiled.
“Well, they aren’t interesting.” She shrugged.
“I did not look you up.” He said rather proudly. “Because it's not like something can happen again.” He eyed her reaction as he spoke. Ajabdeh nodded a little unconvincingly.
“Well, you are not technically my boss. You can’t fire me. Or affect my promotions.” She shrugged. Pratap observed her keenly as she swept her hair away from her bare shoulders, revealing the small black mole on her left shoulder that had distracted him the previous night. He fought a strange urge to kiss her. Her eyes seemed to tease him, challenge him to give in to his urges. Submit and accept defeat. Pratap inhaled. He was not wrong.
“But your project depends on my nod.” He said, looking away deliberately.
“Very well, enjoy the evening, sir.” Ajabdeh turned to leave as a man approached her. Pratap could hear him ask her for a dance. He glanced over his shoulder and murmured that it was a bad idea to have come to the pub. He ordered another drink and started looking through his phone for another club somewhere more up to his standards. The bartender tapping on his glass made him look up.
“No, thank you, I don’t need another one.” He shook his head.
“You know that woman who was just talking to you?” He asked as Pratap frowned. He looked across the room to the table where Ajabdeh was sitting with the stranger on the couch, her hand on his thigh and his over her shoulder. Pratap nodded at the Bartender.
“She is a … umm… colleague.”
“That man just mixed something in her drink.” The Bartender pointed. Pratap looked a little taken aback. “Umm… what?”
“You know those date drugs, right?” The Bartender spoke again. “I don’t want to alarm him. I will call the police; you can maybe stop her from leaving with him?” Pratap nodded.
Ajabdeh Punwar had her ego. She hated how Pratap extracted a reaction from her. Even in a room full of people busy working on deadlines, she could still feel the tension between them. His piercing gaze, often dropping from her eyes to her lips, did not help either. She was sure that it would go away if they repeated the night, perhaps in less intoxication and more sanity. Alcohol could make average things look magical. He was not the first guy she slept with, and he wouldn’t be the last. She had found herself googling the guidelines for client relationships in her company. That was insane. By the second week, she had learnt to avoid him perfectly. But it all turned upside down the moment she saw him across the dance floor, waving at her. There was no way he had come to the pub if not for her. It validated her thought. He, too, perhaps wanted to see one more time if their decision to keep it a one-night wonder was right. She had approached him with a drink in hand. He was more resistant than she assumed. Rarely did she approach someone. Never did she get rejected when she did.
Ajabdeh fumed inwardly at his indifference. His eyes hovered on her bare shoulders and lips. He mouthed words that did not match the intentions of his eyes. He was not that blunt or truthful after all. The moment someone else asked her for a dance, Ajabdeh took it as an intervention from the Universe. She took his hand and headed to the dance floor. She could feel Pratap’s eyes on her as she laughed at his jokes and put her hand on his thigh. He moved closer to her ear to praise her, and she blushed, twisting the end of her wavy locks playfully. She could feel Pratap being challenged, and she liked it. She wanted to prove him wrong. She did not care how much it messed up the workplace equation anymore. He was not her boss. She would be out of that office in two weeks. She was sure that once they slept together again, this urge to feel him again would go away. It always did the second time around, especially when guys assumed she wanted to continue. The moment a guy felt so, she found it easier to move on. How would he be any different? She hated how, despite being with someone else, her attention was drawn time and again across the pub to his reactions, his validation and his eyes. She took a sip of the drink the man got from the pub. Her girlfriends eyed her while talking to a group of men on the dance floor. She had not told the stranger that she did not come here alone. How did that matter? In the morning, she would not even remember how he looked. Her eyes involuntarily travelled again to Pratap, and their eyes met. It was as though his eyes told her he knew what she was up to. Her tricks were old and classic. They would not work. Ajabdeh inhaled as she drew closer to the man. His perfume reminded her of a familiar smell she couldn’t place as she raised the cocktail to her lips again.
Pratap suddenly rose from his seat and approached them. Ajabdeh felt uneasy if she was holding her breath for too long.
“Excuse me?” The man noticed him arrive as he asked. Pratap ignored him and gave her his hand.
“Come with me.”
“Pardon?” Ajabdeh asked with a frown.
“I said, Come with me.”
“Why should I go with you?” Ajabdeh shrugged.
“This is not a game,” Pratap said sternly.
“Excuse me, look, man, I…” The man stood up.
“Are you jealous or something?” Ajabdeh chuckled as Pratap eyed her. “You do know I …”
The Bartender arrived to interrupt as the man stood up, looking pale. Ajabdeh looked at them, confused. She felt a little disoriented as she tried to stand up, and Pratap held her hand firmly, almost in a reflex to ensure she did not fall.
“I saw him spike her drink.” The Bartender told the security.
“Emm… what?” Ajabdeh looked surprised first at the bartender and then at Pratap.
“Come with us, the police have been informed. Please take the glasses too.” The Manager ordered. The commotion made the people disperse, and Pratap found Ajabdeh’s friends steering clear of the chaos. “Sir, please stay back as we need a statement from ma’am.” The manager told Pratap, and he nodded.
It was very late when the police finally took their statements and let them go. Ajabdeh still felt disoriented, and there was no way she could go home to her father like this.
“I feel so stupid.” She murmured almost to herself. “I am usually careful enough to watch my drinks.”
“Your eyes were distracted, perhaps?” Pratap’s voice seemed a little amused now that they were out at the entrance, waiting for the valet to bring his car.
“No, my mind was. I should be more careful.” Ajabdeh sat down on the stairs of the pub entrance, making him gasp. “Urgh. My head hurts, I can’t go home.”
“Then we are not going home.” Pratap tipped the valet and opened the door for her. Ajabdeh frowned at him.
“Great, now you want to come with me? If you had just agreed, then none of this would have happened.” She snapped as she got into the car. He took the wheel with a frown.
“So you are saying it's my fault?”
“Is it mine either?” She asked. Pratap inhaled.
“Absolutely not. Such men and their ill intentions are harboured by themselves. It could happen to anyone, even if they were careful enough.” Pratap sounded serious. “I am glad I was there, and I am sorry you faced this.” Ajabdeh looked at him with a hint of a smile on her lips.
“You have no idea what women face daily here, do you?” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine. But what I saw today disturbed me to the core, so next time I will be less judgmental if a girl rejects my approach or calls me a creep. I may not be the problem, but I am part of it.”
“I know you are trying to be nice, but half your words are not registering with me right now. Can I open the windows and get some fresh air? I feel suffocated.” Ajabdeh inhaled.
“Should we go to a hospital?”
“No, I will be fine.”
The elevator ride was the last straw for Ajabdeh. The moment the attendant opened the door to the hotel room where Pratap seemed to be a regular, she could control herself just enough to reach the washroom, feeling nauseated.
“Are you alright?” he asked, closing the room door. “Should I come in? I am coming in.”
Pratap swept her hair away from her face and held it patiently as Ajabdeh splashed water on her face.
“It's good that it is out of the system.” He reminded her. “Have some water.”
Ajabdeh sat down on the edge of the bed, looking distraught.
“You don’t have to stay. I will pay for the room and leave in the morning.” She suggested as he eyed her.
“What do you think me to be?” He asked as she looked up at him, confused.
“You think I would be irresponsible enough to leave you alone here?” He asked, sitting down on the chair across from her. “I know we aren’t friends, but I am a gentleman.” He made her smile.
“Thank you.” She murmured. “I think I may still have the effects of the drug on me, I feel like crying.” Pratap nodded and dialled the restaurant. “You need a drink to get over it.”
“No more drinks.” She shook her head, making him smile, “I meant a hangover drink.”
“ I am wasting your night, right?” Ajabdeh sounded a little low as Pratap narrowed his brows.
“You mean I am getting no action?” Pratap feigned surprise. “I thought there was a reward or something.” He half smiled as she inhaled, shaking her head.
“This never happened to me before.” She said.
“What never happened?” He asked keenly.
“I never chose a scam guy.” Ajabdeh shrugged. “I have been vain about my experience.”
“Every experience teaches you something.” He shrugged. “And it's fine. You will forget all about tonight.” He lied.
“It is not that easy to forget scars.” Her words sounded deeply meaningful as Pratap’s eyes met hers. Something told him she was talking of things beyond the night.
“I know. Believe me.” He stopped, alarmed. There was no way he would sit and have a deep, meaningful conversation with her. If anything, he would go home in the morning, proud of the fact that he resisted her.
As the waiter placed down the drinks with tiny umbrellas on them, Ajabdeh’s phone buzzed. She looked confused as she opened the notification and gasped.
“No, no, no, no. I am screwed.”
“What happened?” Pratap asked, sitting down beside her. Ajabdeh held her phone up. Someone had tweeted a picture of her and the guy in the incident at the bar.
“Do you know who clicked this?” Pratap asked.
“One of my friends for sure. If I can call them that.” Ajabdeh snapped.
“But this is not bad… I mean, he was …” Pratap stopped at Ajabdeh’s audible gasp.
“Look at the comments.” She handed him the phone and started pacing the room frantically. Most of the comments were questioning her character, why she was wearing the clothes she was wearing, why she was all over the guy, drinking and partying like no “good” girl should and so on. Only a few women were defending her and blaming the man.
“But… they don’t know you.” Pratap insisted. “This will blow over in no time.”
“Right now, it is blowing up. On my face.” Ajabdeh was startled as the phone rang.
“This is my HR. I can’t lose my job. Shit.” She walked onto the balcony as Pratap watched her from across the glass, frantically waving her hand and explaining something. When she came back inside, she was almost teary.
“First, I do all the hard work Kiran takes credit for. Now I may not have a job or a recommendation altogether. Life is great!” She shook her head, muttering to herself, “How is this my fault?”
“Maybe they just want to talk about the matter and support you?” Pratap tried to sound convincing. He knew how it worked in reality. Viral videos could give one momentary fame and followers, but in reality, hiring companies did not want such controversies. They would wash their hands of such employees in a minute.
“My social media followers are blowing up. There are thousands of lewd DMs from old men and kids. The HR called me on Monday morning. I am screwed.” She sat down ranting and moving to and fro. Pratap sat down silently beside her.
“Baba will know. Soon, my mother will call him, saying what a terrible father he is. Worse, she would insist I work for her husband.” Pratap eyed her talking and felt a little uneasy. This was not a matter she would have told him under normal circumstances. She was drugged and stressed out.
“Umm… they have a business?” Pratap was unsure what to ask.
“Have you heard of the Chauhan Marbles?” She asked, and Pratap nodded. “Of course… he is…”
“My stepfather,” Ajabdeh grunted. “My mother abandoned us for a better life with him. But now she insists I become a part of it. Leave Baba miserable for a better life like she had.”
“That’s odd.” Pratap inferred.
“What is?” Ajabdeh frowned. “That people betray you when you need them the most?”
“No. I assumed cheating was gender specific.” He almost sounded amused. “When my parents separated, I assumed only men could hurt that way.” Ajabdeh looked up at him and sighed.
“I am sorry, I should not have brought it up.” She shook her head. Pratap eyed her.
“You know what, go talk to your HR. If they don’t want you, I will talk to Ranima with your resume.”
“I don’t need your help.” Ajabdeh snapped. “You and I are not even supposed to know each other.”
Pratap decided to leave the matter to her and sighed. “Well, I am sleepy. We can talk in the morning.” He made her frown.
“Doesn’t your rule say not to have a morning chat with someone?” She asked.
“ If I were to go by my rules, we wouldn’t just be talking here. I can make one exception.” He said to lie down on one side of the bed. “Don’t expect me to take the couch.”
“Thank you. For today.” Ajabdeh sighed.
Ajabdeh woke up with a frown as she turned to find Pratap sleeping peacefully beside her. His mouth was a little open, and he looked deep in sleep. A smile appeared involuntarily in the corner of her lips as he oddly reminded her of how her father often slept on the living room couch with the TV on. She decided to tap him awake gently.
“Hey.” She whispered, unsurely as he moved. “Umm…” She looked unsure at his response.
“I should go.” Her words made him open his sleepy eyes.
“Why?” He asked, staring at her smudged kohl as she sighed. “I want to tell Baba before anyone else finds out.”
“It is 4 AM.” He frowned. “You have two or three more hours, right?”
“What can happen in three hours?” Ajabdeh bit her lips the moment she said it.
“I did not phrase that right.”
“You did.” Pratap’s eyes travelled to her lips and back to her eyes. “I want to ask you one question.” She nodded.
“Why did you try to say I'm not your boss?” She smiled sheepishly at his question.
“Because a part of me wanted to see if that night was unique or… do we have that kind of…” She could not complete her sentence, for he tasted her lips and pushed his tongue in between her parted lips as she moaned. For a moment, Ajabdeh was conscious of whether her morning breath smelled of alcohol, but Pratap’s busy hands diverted her mind to the realms of utmost pleasure. He stopped kissing her as they gasped for breath, and he whispered into her ear.
“Let's see that then. Just a rule. Don’t moan my name.” She had no idea why he formed these stupid rules. In her mind, this was the last time it was ever happening, and if she was being fired after all her morality was not taking a hit, he was not her client anymore.
