The Sari Shop Widow (25 page)

Anjali was happy to let Rishi and her uncle deal with the café, which they’d named Neela Chai, or Blue Tea. She was thrilled that Rishi had ordered the cream potteryware with a bold blue design she’d had her heart set on. He seemed to have wholeheartedly embraced the theme of Silk & Sapphires.

At the moment, Rishi, Jeevan-kaka, and her father were somewhere in the back of the store. She could hear them talking, her uncle’s voice drowning out the other two. Her mother had left a while ago so she could have dinner on the table when they all got home.

After locking the door and hanging the “Closed” sign, she crossed over to the other side, the new wing. Turning on the lights, she glanced around. She had to admit all the weeks of putting up with construction noise and pollution and then installing the fixtures, decorating, and stocking up were worth it. She took a deep, appreciative sniff. The place smelled of fresh paint, new carpeting, and wood polish. Gone were the musty odors of Tejmal’s grocery shop.

Surrounded by the gleaming new expanse, she felt like a little girl looking at her secret fantasy come true. Of course her workload would double, too. But she was prepared for it. No dream came without a price tag attached.

As the big day drew nearer, she felt the tension mounting by degrees, like her skin was slowly being stretched and pulled taut. So much was at stake here. It was their last chance for success. She prayed the opening weekend would be sunny, unlike today’s weather. As if to remind her, a clap of thunder sounded really close, startling her again and rattling the windows.

“Satisfied with everything?”

She jumped at the familiar voice behind her and turned around to find Rishi.

“More than satisfied,” she assured him. “It’s beautiful.”

“I hope so. You’ve worked very hard on this.”

“And you haven’t? Between handling your businesses around the world and taking care of this store, you’ve hardly had a moment’s rest in the past few months.” In the last couple of days she’d noticed the fine lines of exhaustion around his mouth and eyes. She inclined her head toward the back of the store. “Where are Dad and Jeevan-kaka?”

“They just left for home, hoping to beat the storm.”

“I’m glad. I like spending a few minutes alone here when everyone’s gone. It gives me some private time to gather my thoughts and check on the day’s progress.”

“Sharing a home with so many people can’t be easy.” He came closer. “That’s something that puzzles me. Why do you stay with your parents when you’re such an independent and modern woman?”

“A lot of reasons. At first I needed to be with my family…you know…when I was grieving. My parents were convinced I’d sink into a deep depression and never come out of it if they didn’t keep a close eye on me. Then I put all my savings into expanding the store, so I didn’t have much money to live on my own. After a while it became a habit—the three of us as a team, with Nilesh an occasional fourth. We do everything together.”

“I see.”

“Once or twice I’d thought about getting my own apartment, but what purpose would it serve? Other than to sleep and bathe, what else would I need it for? Besides, after so many years, if I suddenly decided to go off on my own they’d be confused, even hurt. They seem to need me as much as I need them.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t belabor the point. Instead he walked over to the just-installed arch that formed the doorway to the women’s department. He ran his fingers over its frame encrusted with shimmering beads and flowing gold designs. The sign above it read Zanana. “I like this. It’s both stylish and whimsical.”

“Thanks.” She rather liked it herself.

“What made you think of it?”

Zanana
was a Persian term for an area exclusive to women, a harem concealed from male eyes, but Anjali had thought here in the store it’d be a rare and captivating lure for shoppers. She’d figured people could walk through the archway with its beaded curtain to discover the enticing secrets hidden behind it. She smiled at Rishi. “I’m hoping it’ll attract more males rather than keep them out. What red-blooded male can resist taking a peek into a mysterious female universe?”

“And it’s exotic enough to stir the curiosity of non-Asians, too—the treasure trove effect.” He turned away from the arch. “Aren’t you the least bit curious to see the café, Anju? I noticed you’ve stayed away from it the last few days. You’ve been using the front door.”

“I wanted it to surprise me. Sometimes I wait to see the finished product without seeing the in-between stages. It’s so much more fun that way.”

“It’s finished now. I’ll give you a grand tour if you’d like.”

“You’re on.”

Shutting off the lights, she took the hand he held out to her. Their relationship had settled into one of quiet camaraderie, with some hand-holding, occasional pecks on the cheek, and an arm around the shoulder now and then. After that day in his hotel room, where he’d kissed her with both passion and promise, nothing significant had occurred.

They were rarely alone. Most often she and Rishi closed the store at nights together and went home in their separate cars to eat dinner with the family.

Once a week, usually on a Sunday night, the two of them went out to dinner—to discuss business. At times they met at the gym. The elders seemed to approve of it. More and more Anjali had begun to see a smidgen of optimism in her mother’s eyes. She could tell that her parents and Jeevan-kaka were secretly hoping for something serious to blossom between Rishi and her, but it hadn’t happened yet. It wasn’t because Rishi didn’t want it. It was
she
who couldn’t afford to indulge in an affair with a guy like him, a ship that wandered about the world with no anchor.

Having a fling with Kip Rowling had been safe in many ways; her heart wasn’t at risk. With Rishi, however, it was a different matter. She suspected she was already in love with him to some degree. He’d been in Edison for nearly four months. If she succumbed to her need to get physical with him, there’d be no turning back.

She appreciated the fact that he didn’t push her. After that candid talk about giving themselves a chance to get to know each other better, he hadn’t brought up the subject again. Maybe he was giving her time to mull over it. She respected him for that. It was all the more reason why he was growing on her, too. She was afraid she was beginning to like him too much.

How could she have judged him as cold and unfeeling? As she’d come to know him better, she’d learned he was a man of integrity despite being a tenacious and sometimes hard-nosed businessman. He couldn’t have become a success if he weren’t. But he was fair at the same time. He didn’t suffer fools, yet he was generous in many ways.

Above all else, he treated her fussy uncle like a father and all the Kapadias like family. He and Nilesh had become close, too. He’d even attended a couple of college baseball games with Nilesh.

She forced her thoughts back to the present as Rishi ushered her through the glass-paneled swing door. The words Neela Chai flowed across it, the letters constructed from blue, jewel-tone stained glass. She waited till he turned on the lights.

With a delighted breath she let her gaze wander across the room. The cream granite counter was long and curved, designed so customers could observe Anwar perform his culinary magic. The five small tables had matching cream tops. The chairs were wrought iron with padded blue seats and backrests. The floor was made of gleaming cream tiles and the walls were covered with rich textured wallpaper. Indian folk art mounted on cream mats and framed in vibrant cobalt blue frames brought the walls alive. The hanging light fixtures were filigreed brass domes.

“This is gorgeous, Rishi. It’s more beautiful than I’d imagined.” She couldn’t help giving him an exuberant hug. “Thank you so much…for everything.”

“You did all the planning and designing, darling. I’m only the facilitator.”

“But you’re the one who made it all possible. You and Jeevan-kaka.”

He lifted a brow. “Is it safe to assume you don’t dislike me and Jeevan-kaka anymore, then?”

“Yep.” She angled a sly look at him. “In fact, I’ve decided I like you a hell of a lot.”

“Well, I’ll be damned!” He took her by the shoulders and placed a quick, hard kiss on her mouth. “I’ve waited four long months for the persnickety Miss Kapadia to change her mind about me.”

“You’re calling
me
persnickety? As if
you
weren’t distant and disdainful the day you arrived here.”

“How else was I supposed to react when your mother and you looked at me like the snake that had crept in from the wilds of India?”

“What can I say? We were nervous about Jeevan-kaka’s visit, and then to see a stranger arriving with him was a bit…unexpected.”

“And unpleasant?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Yes, you would,” he teased. “And you’ve actually begun to like me now. Imagine that,” he murmured, the lighthearted tone gradually turning serious, seductive, silky. He tightened his hold on her and kissed her again, slowly and softly this time. His lips glided along the sensitive area between her earlobe and her neck, sending a tremor of pleasure through her.

She closed her eyes and sighed. Good God, but the man knew how to get a woman turned on. His hands coasted ever so leisurely up and down her back. They appeared to search out every little nerve that reacted to his touch like a live wire. Instinctively she pressed against him. She couldn’t get close enough. The devil knew exactly what he was doing.

Anjali had no idea how long they stood in the room or how long they kissed. All she knew was she wanted him. With his beard-roughened jaw and his eyes taking on that hungry predator look, he was mouthwateringly male.

It was impossible not to respond to what he was doing to her, what he was silently asking of her. He was no doubt feeling the same things she was. She deepened the kiss, lingering over it as much as she could.

“Be with me tonight, sweetheart,” he whispered against her lips, his voice sounding urgent.

His words took her by surprise. “I can’t.”

“Why not? It’s obvious you want me as much as I want you.”

“Wanting is not the same as…as…”

“As what?” He broke away from her mouth to look at her.

She blinked. “Physical love can last only so long.” She couldn’t tell him she was falling in love with him.

“You won’t know unless you try it.”

“I tried it with Kip.”

He loosened his hold on her as if she’d flung cold water in his face. “Forget that odious bloke, will you? He’s not the average man. I’m not like him.”

“Exactly what kind of man are you, Rishi?”

“I believe in family…loyalty. Is that so bad?”

She blinked again. “So what are you saying?”

“Why don’t we take this relationship a little more seriously and see where it goes? Then we can both decide whether we want it or not. I know I could use a little stability in my life. I’ll let you decide if that’s what you want in yours.”

“So you think sleeping together is going to help us decide?” She had a feeling this was all some strange dream. Since Vik’s death she’d become a believer in the well-known adage,
Man proposes and God disposes
. Every time she started thinking of the distant future, she curbed herself. What was the point in planning something if none of it materialized? Or worse, it got destroyed?

“Maybe,” he said, “because chemistry between two people matters. And we have plenty.”

She couldn’t deny that. The attraction between them was so potent it set off a minor nuclear blast every time they touched. Most of the time all he had to do was look at her and her nerves started to spark.

He cupped her face in his hands, kicking up her heartbeat. “I’m getting serious about you, Anju. I’ve never come across anyone whom I’ve felt so strongly about.”

“I’d have thought you’d be a magnet for most women. You’re in the fashion industry. The gorgeous models alone must be in the dozens.”

“To me they’re models, nothing more. Besides, I grew up in a mixed culture. The women I’ve met so far have been either purely Indian and very conservative or totally European and much too forward for me.”

“Really?”

“Laura and Samantha are perfect examples of the latter. But now that I’ve met you I’ve come to realize I want someone who represents the best of both worlds.”

“What do you consider the best of both worlds?”

“Old-fashioned Indian values combined with—I don’t know…a confident and independent attitude?”

“And you think I have those qualities?”

“Yes. I’m old enough to know what I want.”

And persuasive enough
, she thought as she met his gaze and felt herself drowning in the melting gray pools of his eyes. “You have such seductive eyes.”

He looked surprised. “Despite the unsightly scar above my eyelid?”

“It’s not unsightly. It gives your face character. Your eyes are like liquid smoke. They can go from cold to angry to contemptuous to warm to sexy just like that,” she said.

“No one’s ever described my dull gray eyes quite so glowingly.”

“Then they don’t know you very well.”

“And
you
do?” He looked amused.

“Well, yeah, somewhat—in the past few months.”

“Since I have such seductive eyes, will you spend the night with me?” he asked with a laugh. When she sighed, his amusement vanished. “You don’t know how difficult it is to work with you so closely day after day and not get my hands on you, Anju. I’ve tried to keep my instincts under lock and key, but you’ve become a distraction for me.”

“And I bet you don’t like distractions messing up your orderly life.” He was clearly a goal-oriented man who single-mindedly went after what he wanted. She had yet to see him falter or change course once he’d made up his mind.

“Damn right. Distractions drive me mad.”

She knew exactly how that felt. Her life had been tidy and free of distractions, too, but then he’d come sailing in, a thorn in her side at first. And now her physical need to be with him was not only interrupting her work but causing major emotional upheaval. Ever since he’d kissed her that day she’d lain in her bed night after night, wondering what it would be like to make love with him. She’d built fantasies around him but was afraid to act on them.