Page 37 of Red Flags and Rishtas
‘It’s amazing. No one’s ever done something like this for me,’ I said, then added, ‘especially on a first date.’
‘Well, you’re worth it. I would know, I spent weeks thinking about you after our date last time,’ he said, his dark cheeks flushing at the divulgence.
Ajay was a textbook good-looking guy. He was tall (not as tall as the giants from the Chauhan family though), dark and really quite handsome. He’d had a thick, well-groomed beard the last time we met, which he had now shaved off to reveal a dimpled right cheek. He wore a printed white and blue shirt with black chinos and leather loafers.
‘Welcome, Ms Ananya and Mr Ajay. You are our special guests for the evening,’ a well-spoken waiter addressed us at our table.
That’s when I noticed the restaurant looked awfully devoid of customers. Besides the staff, we were the only two people I could spot.
Had he booked the entire place just for the two of us?
I pushed the idea out of my head, deciding that it was better if I presumed otherwise.
We placed our respective orders from our personalised menus and resumed chatting after the man had left.
‘So, still with that men’s magazine?’ he asked.
‘Website,’ I corrected, nodding at the same time.
‘How’s it going? Any exciting projects coming up?’ he asked, looking genuinely interested.
I told him about the Best Man idea and how I hoped it would shape up over the coming month. He asked me question after question, leaving no opportunity for a lull in conversation to arise.
‘What’s going on with your work?’ I asked, trying hard to remember what he did.
‘Ah, it’s the same. Markets crash, markets rise … no big deal,’ he said and shrugged.
No wonder I’d forgotten. Stock markets vehemently bored me. Nevertheless, I let him tell me more about his office and the kind of work culture he hailed from, which was poles apart from mine. We talked all the way through the main course, without pausing to appreciate the spectacular presentation of the dishes we’d ordered.
The waiter appeared at our side to clear our dishes. He was followed by another guy who set down a gorgeous two-tier strawberry cheesecake on our table.
‘Oh, I don’t think we ordered this,’ I said, ignoring the sugary goodness that was already exploding on my taste buds.
‘I got it made for you,’ Ajay said shyly, ‘since you couldn’t find your favourite dessert on the menu last time.’
Wow,I thought,this guy has really gone all out.
The waiter served us a slice each of the wiggly delight, before bowing out.
‘How is it?’ he asked me as I took a bite, his eyes sparkling with eagerness.
‘It’s … unbelievable,’ I said, not knowing if I was referring to the dessert or the gesture.
Don’t freak out, Annie. It’s just cake.
‘I hope you don’t mind me asking … but why didn’t we meet again after …?’ he trailed off, uncertain how to broach the subject of his previous rejection.
I cleared my throat to buy myself an extra moment. ‘I think I just wasn’t looking for something substantial at the time … and you seemed like you were.’
‘And now?’ he asked.
I couldn’t get myself to commit to a yes, but I bobbed my head in response. His face lit up.
‘You didn’t have to go to all this trouble … I mean, this cake is big enough to feed a whole wedding,’ I exclaimed.
‘You’re worth it,’ he said for the second time that evening.
Don’t freak out. He’s just extra nice.
