“Two lead to storage spaces, so we can blend the door into the rest of the wall. I vote to close the others.”
“Mark these to keep. Scratch the others off the plan,” I say, pointing to the ones we can use.
Joshi walks to the back of the room where the house plan is laid out on a table. We’ve already crossed so many parts off the original design. If the architect was to ever visit, he won’t recognise the space. When I tip my head back to look at the ceiling, I lose my balance. Before I can fall, Joshi grabs my hands and steadies me. Sucking in a deep breath, I close my eyes. He’s speaking, but the words are muffled and all I can focus on is how I could have hurt myself and this baby in a heartbeat.
“Miss Chandy, are you okay?” he asks in Malayalam when sounds come back and I nod.
“Yes, that was unexpected.”
“Is this still the same infection from Mumbai?”
I huff, then laugh at my baby being called an infection. Shaking my head, I put a hand over my stomach and whisper, “I’m pregnant.”
“Congratulations!”
“Thanks, Joshi. I haven’t told anyone at work yet, but since you’ve now seen me throw up and almost fall on my ass, you get the privilege of knowing.”
He laughs. “I am honoured, thank you. Would you like me to find a chair?”
“No, it’s okay. You can look at the ceiling while we discuss how we’re going to make this work.”
Of all the people I’ve worked with for sex rooms, Joshi is the most open-minded. Which is crazy since I thought all Malayali men were repressed. But from the first one we designed together, he’s contributed ideas and assisted in layout adjustments. I know he’s married and has a brood of kids, but he very rarely talks about them. That doesn’t stop me from trying to know more, though.
“Maybe this high ceiling will work in our favour,” he muses, hands on his hips. “Gives us a lot of room to drag wires and rope, chains and whatever else they need. We can strengthen and reinforce all of the equipment as well. This might be the sturdiest and strongest room you’ll ever build.”
“So, we’re going to layer mineral fibre, wood and gypsum?”
“Well…” he trails off and does another walk about.
I calculate the cost of all the raw materials on my phone as it starts ringing with Pallavi’s name. Despite wanting to bring her with me to the site today, I gave her the important job of getting me an appointment with Julia Christopher and I told her she had free rein to do whatever the fuck she wanted.
“Give me the good news, Pallavi.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Chandy! She’s fully booked and her assistant keeps hanging up on me.”
“How is that possible? We only found out about it recently.”
She sighs and I can almost see her pacing the office. “Apparently the minute word got around, everyone tossed their hat in the ring. It explains why my calls and emails in the beginning were ignored, probably buried under all of the other requests coming in.”
Fuck. While securing this job will not make or break my career, it would be a defining project. I haven’t worked on a commercial space in years and to blend my style with Julia Christopher’s aesthetic would be a dream come true. I wonder if using my name is what’s causing the hold up. Even in interior architecture, I’m known as someone who does family homes. And outside of that, I’m becoming more and more synonymous with sex rooms. At least in the South.
“Okay, shifting gears. See if they have any openings at Frosting for a cake tasting.”
“A cake tasting?”
“Maybe pretending to get married can be my way in.”
“Isn’t that…unorthodox?”
I shrug even if she can’t see me. It’s not the end of the world if I don’t get the job, but I’d be annoyed with myself if I didn’t try every avenue available to me.
“Possibly and she might blacklist me for life, but it’s worth a shot. And don’t use my surname. Book it under Tamara and Patrick J.”
“Did you just make up a husband?”
I shake my head and close my eyes. This is a bad idea and I know it, but I need a way in. “Something like that. If this doesn’t work, then we’ll give up. I’ll accept that it’s not meant to be.”
She hums and mutters something to herself before coming back on the line. “Okay, cake tasting at Frosting for Tamara and Patrick J. I’ll get in touch!”