Sara's Trilemma

Sara's Folly

"Show me the pictures of your article," asked Anamika, while she walked ahead of me towards her office. It was a clear morning. At about two minutes to ten, we entered her bastion.

I opened my iPad and held out to her as soon as she sat down in her high-backed white chair.

She flipped through it, satisfied, handed them over. "Use the second and fifth one. Also, check with the editor team on the article."

"All right."

"Who was the photographer?" she asked looking at her laptop with a casual note.

She raised her brow in acknowledgment when I told her it was Kushal. She murmured he being good at his job but should try different setups. I was astonished seeing her so observant of her staff without them knowing. Maybe that was the key to being a good leader.

"We can go ahead with the article for next month issue and see how people responds to it. Then we can decide its future," she continued typing on her MacBook with manicured fingers. "And about the dress, we can go in the evening to my sister's boutique on Worli Street. Apparently, she is too busy with upcoming fashion week."

I nodded as she sighed to herself. Before she could give me other work, my phone buzzed in my hand. I shot a glimpse at the familiar number before hitting the cut button. Why were they calling me? They didn't call as often as they were doing now. Somewhere in the corner of my mind, a thought struck. Were they okay? Ill? Or hurt?

"Sara?" a voice was heard from a long distance.

Quickly I came back at the place. Anamika regarded me with scrutiny.

"Never phase out in front of me. You get that?" she admonished in a harsh tone. "Now get back to Joyce before you are needed again."

With a short nod, I retracted my steps towards the exit. Sitting on the empty chair beside Joyce, who was busy dealing with a stream of phone calls, not giving me any attention, I thought just for a second, calling my father back or at least text, wanting to be assured of their well-being. Not that it meant to be in talking terms with each other. It just that I wanted them living their life peacefully come what may.

But I swallowed my urge when I saw texts sent from Kush. I found a lot of banter with smiley faces crowding my chat box. And it made me smile foolishly.

In another second, I saw another text pinged on the phone.

Hey, got a sec?

It was from Siddharth. Without delaying another second, I replied.

As a matter of fact, I do. Shoot.

I was appreciating my ability to be non-approachable when his reply came in an unexpected manner.

Sid stood there in front of me, knocking on the desk, wearing a smile that stopped the time.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed standing abruptly. Meanwhile, Joyce too stopped talking on her phone and stood gawking him, with astonishment written on her face.

"What are you doing here, Sid?" asked she, keeping a palm on the receiver of the phone. I looked to and fro, completely confused.

"Hi, Joyce," he smiled and she blushed scarlet red with a goofy grin spreading across her tight cheeks.

"Sir, I need to call you back," with that she kept the phone, probably hanging the other person on the phone in a middle, stepping from her desk to stand in front of him. The body language she executed was obvious, that I was assured of her feelings right away. She straightened the creases of her lime green formal skirt and batted her eyelashes, playing with a lone strand of her hair from her bun.