Free The One She Was Warned About by Shoma Narayanan Page B

she ran faster and faster, trying to keep up with him.

FIVE
    ‘So, what do you think, Shweta?’
    Shweta looked up from her notepad in alarm. Busy daydreaming about Nikhil, she hadn’t heard a word of what her boss had said to her. Across the table, Priya was nodding at her vigorously, so Shweta said, ‘Um, I agree, of course.’
    Deepa gave her a strange look. ‘Were you listening, Shweta?’ she asked. ‘I asked if you had any major projects lined up for this week.’
    ‘No, I don’t,’ Shweta said, wondering why Priya was still making faces at her.
    ‘Good. Then you can fly down to Delhi and take over the audit Faisal was doing. The silly man’s had an accident and broken his wrist—he won’t be back to work for a week at least.’
    Oh, great. ‘When do I need to leave?’ Shweta asked, hoping Deepa would say next week, or even Wednesday.
    ‘Well, this afternoon would be good,’ Deepa said briskly. ‘Then you can meet Faisal before he goes for surgery. He’s in no state to give you a proper hand-over, but at least he can tell you what to watch out for.’
    ‘Serves you right for wool-gathering during a meeting,’ Priya said when they met for lunch a couple of hours later. ‘Have you told Nikhil?’
    Shweta nodded glumly. ‘I won’t be able to see him for a few weeks now,’ she said. ‘He’s leaving for Europe this Saturday, and he isn’t back till the end of the month. Damn Faisal and his stupid wrist—he should have more sense than to go around breaking bones at his age.’
    ‘It was hardly his fault,’ Priya said. ‘From what Deepa said, someone had spilt a drink on a dance floor and he slipped.’
    ‘Whatever,’ Shweta said, in no mood to be sympathetic. ‘Pretty mess he’s made of my plans.’
    When she actually saw Faisal, though, she felt quite sorry for him. He was in a lot of pain, having broken his wrist in three places, and obviously terrified about going through surgery.
    ‘Deepa must be furious,’ he said, smiling up at Shweta wanly. ‘This is a complicated audit, and now you’ve had to come down to take care of things. There’ll be an additional cost which we can’t bill to the client...’
    ‘Stop stressing about it,’ Shweta advised. ‘Deepa knows you didn’t fall down on purpose, and she’ll figure out a way of recovering the costs. She’s pretty smart about that sort of stuff.’
    In the evening, while she was headed back from her client’s office to the company’s guest house, she couldn’t help thinking that she could have been with Nikhil instead. He hadn’t even called—maybe he was going out with someone else instead. The thought almost made her stop in her tracks.
    ‘There’s a parcel for you,’ the guest house clerk said as she came in. ‘And you didn’t leave your room keys with me this morning, so your room’s not been cleaned. Should I send someone in now?’
    ‘Yes, sure,’ Shweta said, eyeing the parcel in puzzlement. It was a square box, done up in white paper, and it had her name on it in big bold letters. No courier slip or post office stamps. ‘Who brought this?’
    The clerk shrugged. ‘A delivery boy. I thought it was someone from your office.’
    Shweta picked up the surprisingly heavy parcel and carried it to her room. Her firm had a small office in Delhi—perhaps Deepa had asked for some files to be sent over.
    But the parcel wasn’t from Deepa. Opening it, Shweta was more puzzled than ever. There was a book of Urdu poetry on top—one that she’d wanted to read for a while but which wasn’t available in Mumbai—and next to it was a box of expensive chocolates and a silk pashmina shawl. Under the shawl was a leather jewellery box that opened to reveal a pair of really beautiful earrings in antique silver. Right at the bottom of the box she found one of Nikhil’s business cards. There was no note.
    Shweta slowly put everything back in the box except for the book, which she put on her bedside table. The gifts were lovely,