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"Thank you so much Bua and sorry for all the trouble I caused you." (Bua- paternal aunt) Prakriti said as we watched the cops walk in to the café. I was not an i***t to just threaten some bullshit dude and leave him free to do whatever he wanted. I just wanted to make it clear to him that it was I who had called the cops on him, because he needed to know that a Gill was not someone to be messed with.
"Sorry kisko bol rahi hai tu? (Who are you saying sorry to?)" I rolled my eyes. "Go back to your dorm and forget this ever happened. I will keep the incident a secret from our family as well." I said.
Prakriti nodded her head obediently with a smile on her face. It only made me madder thinking that some asshole had the audacity to threaten my darling delicate flower of a niece.
She kissed me goodbye and stepped out of my car. I rested my head against the headrest, passively watching the commotion of New York City.
I had a feeling that I would never get used to this. Nothing beats the busy loud and chaotic streets of Delhi.
My eyes caught sight of my neighbor walking out of the café with another incredibly handsome man in tow, though he was way shabbier than Stefano Greco. I rolled my eyes to myself – why was I thirsting over him so badly?
It was true that I wanted him, bad. But wasn't I supposed to play the sweet, docile Indian girl part? Where is the fun otherwise?
I decided that I would deal with everything else later and go back to my home for now – I had taken the day off to take care of this matter and I did not want to disappoint my students by showing up after their lunch break. Everyone loves a substitute in their class from time to time.
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"They are fresh from Punjab." A white woman told me as soon as I picked up a pack of mustard oil. I don't care whether they are fresh or not! Imma have it coz it's the last pack here!
"I would like a kheer mix." I said, pointing at the shelf. The mix was quite high up and I knew I could not reach it in even in my five inch heels.
"Sure, I will get it for you." I just nodded while she walked away and was soon approached by a guy – a very tall good-looking Indian guy.
"Hello ma'am." He had the most charming smile in the world. The one that screamed –
"You are Bengali, aren't you?" I raised a brow at him.
"Yes, how did you know that?" His accent was thick, and melodious.
"I am Punjabi."
"Oh so we are sworn enemies." He laughed while I just chuckled.
Punjabis and Bengalis were always at loggerheads. I had to admit that it was almost always the Bengalis who started the scuffle because they believed themselves to be more cultured and classy than the Punjabis, but the crazy bunch that we are, never gave in to them either, so it was very interesting to encounter the banter.
"But right now, I am a customer." I smiled at him. He had the kind of aura that would want us to be chilled out around him. His voice and mannerism were welcoming and one would feel comfortable around him in no time.
"Of course." He nodded with his beautiful smile still in place. "I will get you your kheer mix."
He walked over to the shelf and got the pack effortlessly, tossing it into my cart as he walked back to me. "Though I think kheer made from scratch tastes way better." He shrugged, a lazy smile on his face.
I raised a brow at him. "I know that. And I think every Indian would agree with you on that." I blew out a breath and shrugged. "Except I don't know how to make it from scratch. It is too much work from what I have seen my mom do."
He looked down at his shoes as he let out a melodious chuckle and then looked back at me, biting his lower lip as he did. I felt a smile tug at my lips, knowing exactly what he was going to say next.
"I make pretty decent kheer, if you ask me." He shrugged.
I smiled at him, taking his whole expression and weighing my options as I did. "Really? I should try it sometime, don't you think?" I said, sounding as clueless as him.
He let out another chuckle. Damn it, I could get addicted to that sound.
Suddenly, I pulled the handbrake on my thoughts. Damn it Alanna, you don't even know the dude's name and you are already ready to try the kheer prepared by him. What is wrong with you?
I say I don't want anything to do with marriage and relationships and this is what I go around doing!
I guess you can say that I am a hopeless romantic with her mind in the gutter, but also keeping it all to myself. No one knows how wild my imagination is. But I am waiting for the love of my life and I am not going to marry some random guy my parents choose. I am pretty sure that they only want what's best for me but I want to do this my way.
"Alanna Gill." I pushed my hand forward.
"Abeer Bannerji." He took my hand and gave it a firm shake, his lazy grin still in place, one that is so contagious that it made me smile though all I wanted on my face was my typical hard-to-get look.
"I will see you around?" He asked.
"Maybe..." I shrugged.
"Can I have your number?" He asked. "You know, it's good to know fellow Indians when you are in a foreign country."
I giggled when I heard that. This dude really was so cute.
I nodded and gestured for him to pass me his phone.
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