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“Yes, sweet girl. I’m here. I’m just wondering how to answer that question without putting my foot in my mouth again.”
I caught myself blushing. “I think you just did,” I said softly into the phone.
“All I can hope for is that it doesn’t put a damper on our plans for this evening. Because I was planning on taking you to a different sort of place.”
“Different how? Like crass and replete with lechery?”
His sweet laughter boomed in my ears. “Not really, but it’s a place cheekily named La Traviata.”
“Like the opera?”
He chuckled. “No, like the subject of the said opera.”
“That sounds intriguing!” I said, as curious as I was excited.
“Wait till you see the menu.”
“Can’t wait.”
“I’ll pick you up around seven. Is that alright?”
“Yes.”
“And hey, I was serious about coming back to mine. Pack a bag.”
It was unsettling how he had made a way into my life and into my heart. As the oldest child of the family, the eldest daughter, I wasn’t known to take instructions from others. I was the one who laid down the rules and dispensed directives. Yet, his bossiness, the appealing assertiveness, didn’t seem to bother me. Was this what trust looked like?
For the first time since we’d met, I stood before my closet, wondering what to wear. I wanted to wear something flirty, but I couldn’t muster up the courage. Sujit was so straightforward, it’d be like flaunting candy in a kid’s face, then eating it yourself. Or like flaunting candy at a kid who thinks sugar is bad for their teeth. Either way, it was a terrible idea.
I chose a knee-length dress with warm leggings and ankle boots. I tried ten different necklaces but finally decided against it and hooked on a pair of mid-length earrings. That was the flirtiest I could imagine getting with Sujit right now.
He was at my door at seven, and I found a glint in his eyes as he looked at my dangly earrings. But he didn’t comment. He had toed that line that afternoon, and awkwardness had ensued.
“Scandal under the skirt?” I raised my brows as I read the menu at La Traviata.
“It’s a chicken pot pie with their super secret recipe.”
“A Bite of Threesome!” I read. “Greek pastitsio with lamb sauce and béchamel.
“That one is really good,” he said, looking at me over the rim of his glasses. Those dark, brilliant eyes successfully managed to jumble my thoughts.
I shifted my gaze to the menu. “I love these names. Do you think they’ll fly in Dallas? First, Lick the Salt off. Truffle Fries!”
He smiled. “I’m glad you are having fun.”
“This is exactly what I needed today. I had a really hectic week. I’m really looking forward to relaxing this weekend. All I need is a comfortable bed and an unlimited supply of coffee.”
“I think that can be arranged.” He closed his menu and looked at me with a somber face. “Aarti, if you’d rather spend a quiet weekend, I can cancel my game night.”
“Of course not,” I protested, more embarrassed than defensive. “I’m not about to disrupt your life. I’d never ask or expect that of you.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”
“No,” I said with a firm shake of my head. “Being with you feels…comfortable because I can be myself. But I am not about to insert myself in your life and upset it,” I argued.
He pushed his glasses up his nose and gave me a glimpse of those dimples that I’d come to cherish. That smile!
“You’ll never upset my life, Aarti. If anything, I’m actually rethinking my own priorities.”