If You Could Stay

7. Kartik

I pick up my phone for the eighth time before putting it back down again.

Call me.

Her voice echoes in my head for the umpteenth time in the last few days. With a frustrated huff, I pick up my phone again and before I can convince myself otherwise, I save her number in my contacts and send off a text.

Kartik: The gala is tomorrow.
Kartik: This is Kartik.

I hold my breath and wait for her response. She responds in the next minute.

Miss Pink Drink: I know.

My eyebrows furrow. She knows? She knows about the gala or about it being me texting her? This woman is so frustrating. I'm this close to canceling everything I was planning. The plan was to take Naira to the gala as my date. Now that we were public, I could have her by my side so the other annoying aunties would stop setting me up with their spoiled, rich, daughters.

Kartik: We're going to the gala together.
Miss Pink Drink: And why would I go with you?
Kartik: Because it would show your brother how 'real' we are.

I wasn't going to tell her it was actually because I wanted to keep away high-nosed, entitled women. As much as I hate this fake dating scheme, it doesn't mean I can't take advantage of it.

Pink Drink: Ok.

My eyebrows raise. Wow, it worked.

Pink Drink: Only because I was already planning on going. So we might as well walk in together.
Kartik: Text me your address. I'll pick you up at 7.
Pink Drink: Yes, darling (eye roll emoji)

I fight back a smile. This woman is incorrigible.

*****************

At exactly 7pm, I rang the doorbell of Naira's penthouse apartment. The door opened a minute later and I was greeted by a woman with her hand on her hip. She looked to be around Naira's age and was objectively beautiful, but she definitely wasn't Naira. I checked to see if I was at the right apartment. I was.

"Wow, you're hotter in person."

The woman looks me up and down, then flips her dark, curly hair off one shoulder. I narrow my eyes.

"And you're not Naira."

She laughs. "No, I'm not. I'm Mayuri. But Naira is upstairs getting ready. She should be down in a minute."

She stepped aside and gestured inside. "Come inside, jija ji."

I nearly choked at the name, but covered it up with a cough.

"You better not misbehave tonight. I know where you live and I know how to kill a man with my bare hands in six different ways." Mayuri says in a low voice as I walk into the foyer.

My eyes widen and I take a step back from her for my safety. What kind of psychopaths did I get myself into? I clear my throat and busy myself on my phone.

"Mayuri, if you scare him anymore, his scowl will become a permanent feature on his face."

The now familiar voice makes my stomach flip. My eyes flick up.

"Very fun-"

My words were cut off abruptly at the sight of the woman descending down the stairs. Naira's steps paused as our gazes met and my lungs suddenly felt like they were out of oxygen, which couldn't have been true because I had taken a puff from my inhaler only ten minutes ago.

She didn't take her eyes off mine as she walked down the steps slowly, but my eyes betrayed themselves as they grazed the length of her body. The turquoise silk saree wrapped around her body so perfectly, with the sleeveless blouse baring her soft arms. The pops of red flowers on her saree match the red earrings dangling from her ears. The material of her saree is so thin, it's almost see-through. A faint glimpse of her navel through the material makes me swallow hard. It's nowhere near scandalous. If anything, she exudes a radiating glow of elegance. I've seen her multiple times in business attire and wrap dresses. Yet this sight of her in traditional Indian wear is....devastating.

"You look..." My voice drifts off as she comes to stand in front of me. She tilts her head down to look at my shoes and then slowly rakes her eyes up my body. It feels way too intimate. By the way she's making me lose my thoughts, I suddenly feel like this was all a bad idea.

"Thanks. You too."

Her voice breaks my trance. I nod and exit the apartment, eager to put some distance between us. Naira follows behind and I take one final look back to see Mayuri giving me a death glare. I make a mental note never to get on the bad side of that girl.

A very quiet car ride later, we finally reach our destination. It's a private event, so paparazzi aren't allowed. Still, the most elite socialites are in attendance and this would be considered Naira and my's first public outing. I hold out my arm as we approach the red carpet leading to the entrance. Naira links her arm through mine and rests her hand on my forearm. I feel that same electric current from her touch and my spine stiffens. We walk into the hall, which suddenly feels eerily like a battlefield. Little did I know, my night was about to go to shit.