Page 42 of 12 Years
‘We need to talk about this.’
‘There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not that kind of girl, Saket.’
‘What kind of girl?’
‘Nothing. Good night, Saket.’
I flung my phone aside and flopped down on the bed, mentally preparing myself for a night of tossing around with no possibility of getting any sleep.
‘Payal,’ I called her. She had just come out of Express Towers, the building that housed the Blackwater office, and was waiting in the front porch for her car to arrive.
‘Saket?’ she said, turning around. She wore a black formal pantsuit, with a heavy laptop bag slung over her delicate shoulders.
‘Why aren’t you answering my calls or messages?’ I said. ‘I’ve been trying for days.’
‘I had a busy week.’
‘It’s Friday now,’ I said. ‘Can we please sit somewhere and talk?’
‘My dad’s driver is just about to get here. I have to go home tonight.’
‘Ten minutes, please.’
She leaned forward a little, craning her neck to look at the cars entering the building premises. She couldn’t spot hers. ‘Fine. Where do you want to go?’ she said.
‘Let’s go to Leopold. It’s close by.’
Nodding, she called her driver and told him not to come immediately and wait for a while instead.
Payal and I took a taxi to Leopold’s, a short five-minute drive away. The iconic restaurant in Colaba had become even more famous after the 26/11 terror attacks in 2008 when terrorists had stormed in and blindly opened fire at thepeople inside. The restaurant still had a window with bullet holes from that fateful night.
We entered Leopold’s, not having exchanged a single word throughout the taxi ride, and found it packed. Waiters scurried around, serving all types of customers, from backpacker firangs to investment bankers who’d just finished work in Nariman Point.
‘Beer?’ I said to Payal as we sat down facing each other.
‘No, just water.’
I told a waiter to get us a pint of draft beer, a bottle of water and a plate of masala peanuts.
‘How long had you been waiting outside my office?’ Payal said.
‘Two hours maybe.’
‘Why?’
‘Doesn’t matter. What’s going on, Payal?’
‘Nothing is going on, Saket. I told you.’
‘Told me what exactly?’
‘That I’m not comfortable with whatever happened.’
‘And instead of talking about it, you decided to just cut me off?’
‘I needed some space,’ she said.
Our eyes met for a brief second. The waiter arrived with our order. I took a sip of the chilled beer, along with a spoonful of the spicy peanuts, mixed with a generous sprinkling of raw onions, green chillies and coriander leaves.
