TEJRAN - U MIGHT BE A PLAYER BUT IM THE GAME

chapter 11

Teju blinks the sleep from her eyes and peers through the windshield. All she sees is a piercing light above a large steel door and a smaller wooden door to the side. The rest of the view is shrouded in darkness, though in the distance she hears a faint rumble. With the heater off, the frigid winter air infiltrates the car. Teju shivers.

She is here. Alone with him.

She shoots him an anxious glance. Now that she’s sitting in the dark, with this man she hardly knows, she wonders at the wisdom of her decision. The only people who saw her leave with him were Magda and the security guard.

“Come on,” Karan says, and, climbing out of the car, he goes to the trunk to retrieve her bags, his shoes crunching on the gravel.

Dismissing her unease, she opens the car door and steps onto the gravel.

Outside, it’s cold. She huddles into her anorak as the icy wind whistles in her ears. The rumble in the distance is louder. She wonders what it is. Karan puts his arm around her, in a gesture that she suspects is to protect her from the cold. Together they walk to the gray wooden door. He unlocks it and pushes it open, ushering her ahead of him. He flips a switch inside the gatepost, and small lights embedded in the side of the flagstone steps light the path down to a stone courtyard.

“This way,” he says, and she follows him down the steep steps. An imposing contemporary house lit by uplighters in the ground stands before them. Teju marvels at its modernity—all glass and white walls, bathed in light. Karan unlocks the front door and guides her inside. He flips another light switch, and subtle downlighters illuminate the alabaster space with a soft glow. “Let me have your coat,” he says, and she shrugs out of her anorak.

They are standing in an open hallway beside an impressive cloud-gray galley kitchen that’s part of a vast wood-floored room. To the rear there are two turquoise sofas with a coffee table between them, and beyond that shelving stacked with books.

Books! She admires them and notices another door beside the shelves.

This house is so big.

The staircase next to her is enclosed in glass. The wooden steps appear to be suspended in the air, but they are anchored in a massive concrete block that runs down the center of the stairwell and extends to upper and lower floors.

It’s the most contemporary house she’s ever been in. And yet in spite of its modern design, it has a welcoming, warm feel.

Teju begins to undo her bootlaces as Karan marches into the kitchen and places her bags and their coats on the worktop. As she removes her boots, she’s surprised by the warmth of the floor underfoot.

“This is it,” he says, gesturing at their surroundings. “Welcome to the Hideout.”

“The Hideout?”

“It’s the name of this house.”

On the other side of the kitchen is the main living area, with a white dining table that seats twelve people and two large dove-colored sofas that stand in front of a sleek steel fireplace.

“It looks bigger than from outside,” Teju says, intimidated by the scale and elegance of the house.

“Deceptive. I know.”

Who cleans this place? It must take hours!

“And this house, it belongs to you?”

“Yes. It’s a holiday home that we rent out to the public. It’s late and you must be exhausted. But would you like something to eat or a drink before bed?”

Teju hasn’t moved from her spot in the hallway.

He owns this, too? He must be a very successful composer.