Page 20 of Red Flags and Rishtas
‘Wait, you’re going to drink right now?’ I asked.
‘Why not? Aren’t you sampling their food? Perks of the job,’ he said, beaming.
It took my overburdened brain a few seconds to realise what this meant. I was stuck with him for at least another hour, in what felt like a grey area. Technically, we were both still working, but we didn’t have any obligation to do it together. I could’ve asked him to sit at a different table or, better still, just stand at the bar, but I knew our lack of interaction would seem odd to the restaurant staff. The best option was to focus on my food and get out of here as soon as possible.
Jerry came to our table a few minutes later with a bar menu, which he placed in front of Aadar.
‘We’re going to open for dinner to regular customers now, but I’ll make sure we get your orders on priority,’ he said to us, his eyes twinkling in the light.
‘Thank you, Jerry. Could you get me a taster for each of these five appetisers?’ I traced a finger down the ‘small plates’ section.
‘And in veg?’
I flipped the page and pointed out two more appetisers.
‘Do keep the servings bite-sized. I don’t have a huge appetite.’ I smiled at him.
Aadar raised his eyebrows without looking at me and mumbled, ‘Clearly.’
I wanted to tell him off for slyly commenting on my body, but Jerry was still standing there, peering over Aadar’s shoulder as he contemplated between the cocktails.
‘Get me a 30 ml of a Whisky Sour and a Manhattan, and a whisky cocktail of the bartender’s choice,’ he said, handing the menu back to Jerry.
I wasn’t bothered by the fact that he didn’t ask me if I wanted a drink. Discourteous behaviour fit perfectly with his personality. Besides, I was swearing off drinking, or at least mid-week drinking, until further notice.
We sat without speaking as guests began to trickle in. The chatter from the nearby tables heightened the silence between us. But we just sat there, willing each other to speak first. It was almost as if we were in a staring contest, waiting for our opponent to blink. I caved first.
‘So, arranged marriage, huh?’ I said, clearing my throat.
He gave me a blank stare as he took a sip of water and said, ‘Really? That’s what you decided to bring up?’
‘What would you rather discuss? My one-night stand with your brother?’ I asked curtly.
He refused to take the bait. ‘We don’t have to talk at all,’ he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He began typing out a message, unbothered by the dirty look I was throwing his way.
Fine. Two can play at this game.
With a casual flick of my thumb, I unlocked my phone screen and pretended to look busy. But the barren wasteland of my notifications couldn’t offer the distraction I desperately sought. There were no urgent emails demanding my attention, no frantic texts clamouring for a response. It was as if the Universe had hit the mute button on my social life, leaving me stranded in this awkward tête-à-tête with nothing but the sound of Aadar’s incessant tapping to keep me company.
After a few agonising minutes of silence, I gave up.
I sighed loudly to get his attention, and he finally looked up from his phone.
‘I’m genuinely curious. How did your parents convince you for this matchmaking gig?’ I asked, broaching the subject again, this time with more amiability.
I half expected him not to respond, but he asked, ‘What makes you think I had to be convinced?’
I exhaled a gust of air in surprise and placed my elbows on the table.
‘Are you telling me that you, a modern, successful, debatably attractive guy, actually believe in the evils of an age-old patriarchal tradition?’
‘You find me attractive, huh?’ he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
‘I said debatably attractive.’ I huffed, feeling my cheeks grow hot.
A waiter brought us a serving of pigs in a blanket, fish fingers and mini avocado toast, and I was grateful for the interruption. He placed the drinks in the centre, not knowing which onebelonged to whom. Aadar picked up the Whisky Sour and took a sip, while I wasted no time in pouncing on the food.
‘Mmm, this is really good,’ I said more to myself than him, as I took a bite of the pork sausage.
