Who Wants to Marry a Billionaire? (9 page)

       They
wandered a short distance down the tiny alley, and there they found a woman
with a stack of mangoes.  She smiled and indicated her fruit with a wave of her
hand, “Good, sweet, you like.”  She picked through the pile looking for the
ripest, and started adding them to a little fiber bag.  Daniel indicated for
her to keep adding until she reached six.  “Two for us now, one for each of us
later.”  He smiled at Nina, as the fruit vendor weighed them on a scale.  Then
he looked at the rupees in his hand and had no idea how many was enough.  He
held out the money and the woman picked through it, taking only fifty
rupees—about a dollar.  Daniel smiled and slipped another 100 into her hand. 
Nina liked that, generous, but not in a way that would make her a target for
others.     

       As they
wandered back to the nearest ghat, Daniel bought a padded cotton mat for them
to sit on.  They plopped down on the steps, and he took out a penknife as Nina
waved hand sanitizer in his face.  She washed off a mango with some bottled
water, then handed it back to Daniel who split it open and carved out a chunk
of it’s luscious orange-colored fruit.  Handing her slices on the edge of the
knife, they just sat there eating the mango and looking at the bustle of life
on the Ganges.  Finally Daniel spoke.

       “Tomorrow
is my day, remember?  So we are going to fly to Agra in the morning.”  Nina
pushed back the brim of the cotton fedora she wore, and shaded her eyes with a
hand.  Daniel looked happy, she thought, and there was nothing imperious in his
voice.  His response to India—at least so far— had pleasantly surprised her,
and she was surprised at how at ease she felt with him.  She was, she
realizing, enjoying what felt like a real vacation.  Maybe they just needed to
get to know each other a little, get away from parents and paparazzi and all
the other pressures he must feel back in Boston.

       Daniel
folded up his knife, and Nina produced wet wipes from within her knapsack to
get the sticky mango off their hands.  As they stood up, Daniel noticed a man
without legs begging on the steps nearby, just sitting on the bare concrete.  Without
saying anything, Daniel simply took their cotton cushion to the man and handed
him the bag of mangoes with a 500-rupee note tucked inside.

Chapter Fourteen

       Agra was
hot when they got off the jet, but in that way that made you realize you were
in a very different place, rather than in terrible discomfort.   They checked
into the Oboroi, the finest hotel in Agra.  Daniel had booked their two best
suites, each of which had a second, connected bedroom.  Boris would stay in the
second room attached to his suite, and Kennedy with Nina.  But when they
registered, Daniel made it sound as if he and Nina would be sharing the
ultimate suite, and Kennedy and Boris in the second one. 

       The hotel
itself was breathtaking, like a Mughal palace with its stone latticework and
fountains and colonnades.  The furniture and artwork was opulent and tasteful,
and Daniel’s suite was enormous.  He led Nina over to a set of curtained French
doors, and pushed them open.  Nina then knew what it meant to have one’s breath
taken away.  She took a step onto the balcony; there in front of her, was the
Taj Mahal. 

       Room service
delivered lunch, and the four of them sat at the dining room table eating and
laughing and talking about India.  The food was delicious, but even in the air-conditioned
comfort of the suite; Nina could feel the jet lag making her sleepy.  Daniel
stood up. 

       “Why
don’t you girls go have a nap?  Boris and I have a little business, and then
I’ll meet Nina for dinner at 8pm.”  Daniel gave Kennedy a knowing look,
“Dressed for dinner at 8.”

       Around 4:30,
Nina stirred.  She wandered to the huge bathroom in her suite and started
filling the tub.  Then she realized if she opened the curtains, she could take
a bath while staring at the white marble dome of the Taj Mahal.  She slid into
the hot water.  Living like royalty did have its advantages, she mused.

       In the
next room she could hear Kennedy bustling about, but she took her time
luxuriating in the hot water, then washing her hair.  She slid into one of the
thick fluffy bathrobes hanging in the bathroom and padded out to see what
Kennedy was doing.  Laid out on the bed was an incredible silk sari.  It was
cream with a golden paisley design, and a wide border of dark maroon with white
and gold accents.  There was a giant stack of gold bangles, little maroon
velour slippers, and a top that she couldn’t quite work out.  Kennedy was
smiling like the cat that just ate the canary.  “Sit down, I’m going to work on
your hair.”  There was a knock on the door.  “That’s would be the henna artist
who’s going to do your hands.”

       Nina was
confused.  “Henna artist?  What’s she doing to my hands?”

       Kennedy
shook her finger at Nina.  “Remember, you promised Daniel you would do
everything his way for one day.”

       Almost
three hours later when Kennedy spun Nina around to let her look in the mirror,
the transformation was beyond amazing.  Her curls were swept back from her face
and cascaded down her back. Gold ornaments with colored glass jewels encircled
her head and hung down on her forehead.  Her eyes had been carefully lined with
kohl, and smoky layers of shadow applied to make her look sultry and
mysterious.  She was wearing massive dangling earrings, and the sari was
artfully wrapped around her, the top was a sexy molded bra with sleeves, held
on by a thin tie in the back.  It was maroon with gold stitching and somehow it
kept her boobs up, while revealing more than a hint of cleavage.  Nina felt a
little self conscious about her bare mid drift and kept tugging at the sari to
cover her belly.

       Kennedy
swatted her behind.  “Stop that.  You are one smoking hot mama right now.”

Nina held up her
arms and listened to the tinkling of all the gold bangles, then admired the
delicate floral tracings the henna artist had applied to the top of her hands
and going up her forearms.  There hadn’t been time to go crazy, but Nina
thought in this case, perhaps less was more. 

       The
doorbell to the suite rang, and Kennedy went to answer it.  Daniel was dressed
in a black silk shalmar kameez, a long tunic with silver embroidery across the
shoulders and around the slight “V” of the neckline.  His skinny pants were a
cream silk that picked up on the cream of Nina’s sari, and he wore silver
slippers.  He looked, Nina thought, like the prince from a fairytale.  He held
out his arm for Nina to take, told Kennedy to go have a nice dinner with Boris,
and off they went.

       The sun
was setting, and the Oboroi was lighting up, adding to the magical fairytale
effect, but nothing quite prepared Nina for the sight of an elephant.  Nina
looked at Daniel, and he merely smiled mischievously, and a few moments later,
she found herself somehow gracefully arranged with Daniel on a pillowed seat
atop an elephant draped with embroidered velvet and flowers.   The little bells
on Nina’s ankles jingled each time the great beast took a step.  Then Nina
realized that they were heading for the Taj Mahal.

       The last
of the tourists had been shooed out for the day as darkness descended, but the
elephant majestically strolled through the gate as the nighttime lights began
turning on.  For one moment Nina thought that Daniel must have paid a fortune
to do this, but then she just completely forgot.  She was having a once in a
lifetime experience.

       Daniel
thought Nina looked ravishing.  He finally was getting more than a peek at her
voluptuous cleavage, but it was the expression in her eyes that made him the
happiest.  She had the innocent wonder of a child, the regard of someone who
hadn’t become jaded with the world. The joy in her face was, Daniel thought,
perhaps one of the most beautiful things he’d ever experienced.    

       The
elephant came to a stop at the end of the famous reflecting pool, the white
marble monument to love directly in front of them.  Daniel slipped his arm
around Nina.  He wanted to share in her delight.  He whispered in her ear, “So,
do you like it?”

       She
turned, looking into his eyes, a tear starting to well up in her eye.  “It’s
incredible Daniel, I’m…speechless.”

       “Good
then.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

       The
elephant’s minder asked the elephant to kneel, and Daniel helped Nina down.  He
drew her by the hand to a small silken awning; underneath a low table had been
set with all kinds of food and drink.  There were sumptuous rugs covering the
ground and cushions piled everywhere.  A discreet distance away, a trio of
traditional Indian musicians began to play.

       Daniel
could feel something stir in his heart as he looked at Nina.  It wasn’t just
that she was beautiful and sexy in her completely unique way; it was the fact
that she was a good person.

If only she
could see that in him he thought, if only she could recognize him as more than
just a stupid jerk. 

       They
talked and laughed and ate and told stories as the elephant and his minder
snoozed, and the musicians played.  The moon came up over the Taj Mahal and
Nina told herself, now she knew how Cinderella felt, only this was just a bet,
a dare to experience what money could do.  But more and more, she found she
genuinely cared about Daniel. 

       The night
grew late, and Daniel reached into an unseen pocket and pulled out a small
velvet box.  “There’s just one last thing Nina.”  He opened the box, “You have
to pretend to agree to marry me.”  Daniel’s heart fell just a little bit, as he
produced the box.  There was a part of him that he didn’t want to admit that
wished he could save it for a real proposal.  But he thought about his Dad, he
thought about the deal, and he thought about what Elsa had told him.  Business
is business.  It was okay to have fun, but he had to keep real emotions out of
it.

       Nina’s
throat burned.  So it was back to business.  Why did a five-carat emerald
surrounded by diamonds have to ruin everything?

       When they
returned to the hotel, the paparazzi were waiting.  Someone had ‘leaked’ the
marriage proposal.  The next day there were shots in every paper and on every
online gossip site of them on the elephant, the two of them in their amazing
clothes with the Taj Mahal in the background, close-up shots of the ring on
Nina’s hand.  Nina felt sad and furious at the same time that she had thought
any of it could be more than a publicity stunt, but she also reminded herself
that she and Daniel had a deal.  They had one more day in India, and he had to
do what
she
wanted him to do.  And she was going to be a good friend and
give him the medicine he needed.

       The next
morning she forced Boris to make Daniel roll out for a quick 7am breakfast. 
Then she pushed him into an auto rickshaw, one of the three-wheeled open to the
air cheap taxis that plied every Indian street.  They whined noisily and
smelled of diesel, and sometimes seemed only slightly faster than walking, but
most people couldn’t afford an air-conditioned car with chauffeur and for many,
even an auto rickshaw was a luxury.  

       Nina did
her best to keep her voice matter of fact, and just gave Daniel the facts as
she directed the rickshaw driver to take them to one of the nearby slums.  “Agra
has 215 registered slums, and another 100 unregistered ones.  The government
actually tries to keep track of where vulnerable populations are gathering. 
Half of the city’s 1.6 million people live in these slums, and half of those
don’t have access to toilets.”  People were living in rudimentary one-room mud
houses, under tents, and some just under bits of plastic patched together. 
Children were taking care of even smaller children as adults engaged in hard
and dirty labor.  The common areas were filthy.  Daniel had no choice but to
see what life was like for these people. 

       Nina
continued, “3/4 of the children in the slums never receive all their
vaccinations, and the public taps which are their only access to water, often
dry up in the summer.  There’s almost no maternal health care, and half of all infants
are underweight.”

       “Okay,
okay Nina, I get it.”  Daniel’s voice sounded angry. “You care, I don’t.  Therefore
I’m a gigantic and malicious capitalistic ass.”   He crossed his arms and
turned away from her.

       She
handed the driver a slip of paper with an address written on it.  He shifted
gears, and made a U-turn.

       A short
distance away was a neat brick school, with healthy-looking children in
uniforms playing in the yard.  Down the block were rows of public latrines, and
in between was a Women’s Health Center.  Daniel got out of the rickshaw, and
the school kids ran to the fence as soon as they saw foreigners.  “Hello!  How
are you?  What is your name?”  They practiced their English with giggles and
overly enunciated words.  Daniel couldn’t help but smile.  He kneeled down,
“I’m Daniel, what’s your name?”  The kids giggled some more and got shy, until
one bold little boy announced, “My name is Pradeep!” before promptly dissolving
into laughter.  A teacher saw them and came over, “I hope the kids aren’t
bothering you.”  

       “Oh no, not
at all, and their English is great when they can stop laughing long enough to
speak!”  He smiled at the teacher and stuck out his hand, “I’m Daniel, Daniel
DeVere.”

       The
teacher looked like she wanted to faint as she shook his hand, “Mr. DeVere! 
You should have told us you were coming, we would have arranged a proper
welcome and program!”  A look of bewilderment came over Daniel’s face and then
he turned to Nina.  She looked at him craftily.  “All this?”  She gestured up
and down the street.  “DeVere Foundation.  And it’s getting ready to double in
size.”