His Brown Bride

22

Anita's POV













Akash entered the room.

"Look what I bought for you!" he exclaimed, holding a shopping bag.

It was already past six—almost six thirty—and I had started to worry because he was running late.

I pulled my legs out of the pool, where I had been lounging to calm my nerves, and turned to face him.

My eyes enlarged slightly with curiosity as I caught sight of the bag in his hand.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Come and see for yourself," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I hope it will fit. You'll be wearing it tonight."

I rose from the poolside and approached him, taking the bag from his hands.

I pulled out what was inside, and my breath caught in my throat—a stunning, full-length off-shoulder evening dress was there.

"It's beautiful," I admitted, forcing a smile, "but I'm afraid I can't wear it."

His smile faded, and I hastened to explain.

"I just won't be comfortable. I've never worn anything like this before. Let me remain with my sari; I'm used to them."

"I knew you'd have uneasiness about the off-shoulder design," he said with a knowing smile, "which is why I also got this shoulder jacket to go with it."

He pulled out a matching jacket from the bag, and I smiled broadly at his thoughtful gesture.

"Besides, it's a chilly night, so you'll need something to cover up anyway."

I couldn't help but smile at how effortlessly he had predicted my concerns.

"You know, I think I'd make an amazing best friend," he said with a grin, "because only best friends seem to understand each other so well."

And I agreed, "Then we're best friends!"

"Okay, let's not get carried away. Go get changed quickly; I'll do the same."

I nodded, and we parted ways—he going out and I proceeding to the bathroom.

••••

I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

It was a different Anita standing before me, but I would say I like her.

She looked more confident.

Not the village like Anita!

Akash's words stopped as he entered the room, his eyes widening in awe. "Are you... oh my god!"

He approached me, looking dashing in his tailored suit.

"Never have I seen a woman like you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"I know you may not take it seriously, but you truly look breathtaking."

I blushed at the compliment, feeling a flutter in my chest. "You look great too," I whispered, smiling up at him.

He offered me his hand, and I placed mine in it, feeling a spark of electricity as our palms touched.

"Well, shall we?" he asked, leading me towards the door.

We stepped out of the house, and he opened the car door for me.

I smiled, lurching into the front seat, and he made his way to the driver's side.

As we drove away from the house, he turned on the air conditioning, and the car was soon filled with a refreshing coolness.

"So, will we just sit in silence?" he asked, glancing at me briefly. "I don't feel like listening to the radio right now. I'd rather suggest we talk."

"Shouldn't the car be used only for work purposes?" I shared what was on my mind, and he glanced at me again with a sly grin.

"Is the boss around? He'll never find out." He chuckled to himself, and I asked,

"What's funny?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, just thinking about the boss and what he might be up to right now. Maybe he's out at a restaurant too, with his best friend."

I hummed.

We reached.

I was about to reach for the door handle, but he called out, "Wait, let me get that for you!"

He quickly jumped out and opened my door.

I chuckled and stepped out, looking up at the building.

The restaurant was on the third floor, with a sign that read "Uphill Restaurant."

I let out a delighted squeal, feeling the thrill of the chilly night, my nervousness, and excitement all combined.

We entered the building.

He led me to the elevator and pressed the button.

After the doors slid open and we stepped inside, it made me feel like I was in a Bollywood movie.

I had always seen elevators like them in films, but I never thought I'd get to experience them myself.

The ride was quick, but it made my head spin slightly.

Before I could comprehend it, the doors beeped open, revealing a luxurious restaurant that fascinated me.

The view was amazing!

We could see all of Mumbai from the balcony, and the city lights twinkled like stars while the ocean stretched out to the horizon.

There were soft sofas, shiny marble floors, and sparkling chandeliers.

But the restaurant was empty.

"Where are your boss's friends?" I asked, surprised that even they hadn't arrived yet.

"Running late, as usual," he replied.

"Let's order something before they get here," he added.

We took a seat, and a waiter promptly appeared.

"Good evening, sir. Good evening, ma'am. What can I get for you?"

He ordered without even looking at him — his eyes were fixed on me. "We'll have two mocktails and burgers."

"Sure," the waiter said, before disappearing and then returning with our order.

He set the plates and glasses on the table, and he started to eat while I sat nervously, not even having the courage to glance at my burger or drink.

He spoke, his voice catching my attention. "It's not more delicious than yours."

I looked at him, stunned, and smiled. "I don't even know how to make a burger or a mocktail," I admitted.

"Still, I'm sure yours would be tastier if you made them," he said with a grin.

I chuckled, feeling flattered, while the boss's friends arrived—a lively group of people because their voices and laughter filled the room.

"Good evening, beautiful lady. Good evening, young man," they chimed in unison, pulling up chairs and joining us at the table.

"I guess we interrupted a date," one of them said with a teasing smile.

I laughed and quickly clarified, "No, we're just friends, best friends."

Akash glanced at me with an unreadable gaze, but he said nothing.

"Haven't you heard that old saying that a man and a woman can never be just friends?"

Akash rolled his eyes. "What are you blabbering about, Mukesh?"

The man held up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, boss, I'll keep quiet."

I smiled, enjoying how they were pulling each other's legs.

It was clear they were all close friends.

"Can we get burgers and mocktails too?" The man called out to the waiter, who nodded and replied, "Yes, sir!"

The waiter returned with their orders, setting the plates and cups down in front of them.

"One sip and I could tell our mocktails will be better than theirs," one of them boasted, smirking at Akash and me.

Another chimed in, "Obviously, ours will be better. And have you seen the interior design of the place? I've always wanted to comment on it. I'd give it a two out of ten."

I laughed, amused, and surprised by their eye for detail because that was always a girl's specialty.

"I'm serious; look at the plates they served the burgers on. And they have the nerve to call this the best restaurant in Mumbai," the second man continued.

"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling embarrassed on their behalf because they were speaking loud enough for the waiter, who was standing by, to hear.

"Why should we be ashamed, sister?" one of them replied with a grin.

"We're going to be their competitors soon. If they can't handle the truth, let them try to match our level. But we know they can't." another spoke.

I surrendered.

They mocked everything in the restaurant, from the decor to the waiter's uniform, claiming that their own upcoming restaurant would surpass this one in every way.

"Our waiters will wear uniforms that are actually stylish, not like that dull attire," one of them sneered.

Then he beckoned the waiter over with a dismissive flick of his finger. "Hey boy, come here!"

The waiter, looking slightly taken aback, approached our table.

"Tell the owner that we'll soon be opening India's number one restaurant, not just Mumbai's, and it will far overshadow this place," he boasted, looking pleased with himself.

I covered my face, mortified by his audacity and confidence.

The waiter, who I think was impressed, responded, "If you can offer me a job there, sir, with a better salary..."

The man's expression turned stern, and he snapped, "Don't get too comfortable. Get back to work now."

I peeked through my fingers to see.

The waiter nodded and went away, while the group burst into laughter.

"I swear, I can't wait until it's opened. Everyone will be talking about that restaurant. I see the vision," the man said, his eyes gleaming with eagerness.

I cleared my throat to steer the conversation back to me: "I thought it would be a coffee shop?"

One of them chuckled and said, "No, it'll be a restaurant, but with a twist. We'll have a relaxation room where we'll serve our signature coffee—a luxury experience reserved for the privileged few and priced accordingly."

They burst into laughter, and my gaze shifted to Akash, who seemed equally unbothered because he was laughing with them.

I don't know. I feel disconnected.

They are already wealthy, but their sole aim is to get even richer.

Their target customers are obvious, only the rich.

However, I wish to make something for everyone, not just a particular class like them, who are only looking at the rich.

"It's time to reveal the restaurant plans," they said.

"It'll have a stunning view of Mumbai's heart, with large windows and luxurious chairs. It'll be a three-story building, with each floor catering to a different class of people." One of them explained,

"The ground floor will be for the general public, the middle floor for the middle class, and the top floor for the elite." Another added,

"It's a motivational design, really. The average person will work hard to afford the top floor, because who wants to be seen on the ground floor?"

They all burst out laughing again.

"And the quality of the products on the top floor will be far superior than those on the middle and ground floors," one of them added.

"The lower class people are very aspirational. They'll all want a taste of the luxurious lifestyle enjoyed by the rich, even if it's just for a moment."

Again, they exploded into laughter.

"We've even finalised the menu," one of them said, smiling.

"The special coffee will be exclusive to the top floor, a privilege reserved for the elite alone. If you want to taste it, you'll have to work hard and earn it."

"Anita is curious about her role in this perfect restaurant," Akash said, voicing the question that was on my mind.

One of them smiled and said, "She'll own a 27 percent share and be in charge of teaching our chefs her signature recipes. In fact, she'll be quite busy from now on, as we'll be having regular meetings until the restaurant's launch."

"What can I offer in return? I don't have any money," I asked, feeling a bit uneasy.

One of them spurted out laughing, "Look at her! How could we possibly ask for money? Your recipes are enough. You're already giving us those for free."

I managed to force a small smile.

Their grand vision for the perfect restaurant had somehow made me feel devalued.

••••

"Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we left the restaurant," Akash asked as we entered the house.

I stopped walking and turned to face him, speaking my mind openly. "Honestly, I'm scared. I feel like I don't fit in with their vision. They're planning a luxurious restaurant for the elite, but my dream was to create a space that's welcoming to everyone, regardless of social class."

He chuckled, which caught me off guard, and I looked at him incredulously because the matter was very serious to me.

"You want to succeed, right? That's how the wealthy got to where they are. And think about it. The restaurant will have three floors, so it will cater to people of all classes. You have nothing to worry about. These men are experienced business experts. Just observe, learn from them, and when you're ready to open your own place in the future, you'll likely target the same class of people."

"No, I won't."

He shrugged while changing the subject. "Want to watch a movie, or are you tired?"

A yawn slipped out before I could answer. "Can we just call it a night?"

"Another night then," he responded with a smile, and I nodded.

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