When Dimple Met Rishi
Page 48
Ashish met Rishi’s eye, briefly, and Rishi lifted his eyebrows and surreptitiously shook his head. Ashish cleared his throat. Shredding the paper coaster, he said, “Ah well, maybe there’s no need for that.”
Rishi bit on the inside of his lip to keep from smiling with pride. His little brother—all elbows and knees and Adam’s apple, and still learning so much from his bhaiyya . Dimple shifted beside him, and Celia frowned at Ashish. “What? Why not? You texted me that you wanted to talk.”
“Well, yeah,” Ashish said. “But I was just worried about you. I’m over it now.”
Ha! Ha ha ha. Rishi was so proud of Ashish. And, to be honest, of himself.
“You’re . . . over it?” Celia looked a lot more hurt than someone who didn’t really want to be with a “high school boy,” Dimple thought. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, like she might actually cry or was seriously considering it. She swallowed and looked at Dimple, who gave her a sympathetic nod. What the heck was wrong with Ashish? If he really liked Celia—and she’d read some of the texts; it seemed like he really did—why was he being so aloof? He kept darting these subtle glances at Rishi too. Dimple looked over at Rishi, frowning a little. He was nodding surreptitiously at Ashish, his eyebrows high. What . . .
“You wouldn’t have something to do with this, would you?” Dimple said, louder than she’d intended.
Rishi jumped and looked at her, the tips of his ears turning pink. He darted a glance at Ashish and then looked back at her. “Uh, what? With what? What are you talking about?”
Dimple raised an eyebrow and looked at Ashish, who looked back at her with an agonized expression on his face that pretty much yelled HELP . “Oh, for . . . Ashish, if you want to talk to Celia, you should. Right now. You should both go somewhere, by yourselves, without any interference”—here she looked sternly at Rishi, who hung his head and muttered something—“and just talk.” She felt maternal toward them, she realized, which was a shock. Dimple hadn’t felt maternal toward anybody in her life, except maybe Papa.
Gratefully, Celia and Ashish scrambled out of the booth and out the door.
When they were gone, Dimple turned to Rishi and tilted her head. “Really? You gave him dating advice?”
Rishi’s mouth fell open. “I resent that!”
She continued staring at him until he conceded with a “Yeah, okay. I really thought it’d work, though.”
Dimple laughed and rested her head on his shoulder, reveling in the hard musculature under his skin. “At least your intentions were good.”
The waiter came over, and Dimple ordered Bacalhau à Gomes de Sá, salted cod with onions and potatoes, while Rishi asked for Caldo Verde without the sausage. When the waiter was gone, Rishi wrapped a hand around Dimple’s on the table. She heard the smile in his voice even though he kept his face turned away, his gaze locked on their enmeshed hands. “I can’t believe we’re going to make this work long-distance.”
Dimple snorted. “Why? Because I’m such a pain in the butt?”
He looked at her, his eyes shining. “No, because I . . .”
The pause went on.
Oh my God. He . . . what? Was he going to say . . . that ? Those three little words? “You . . .” Dimple stared at him, urging him with her mind. Poke, poke, poke. Say it, dummy. Because I . . . do too.
I do too, she thought again, her world exploding in color at the sudden realization. I really, really do. It took everything Dimple had to not burst into a grin and launch herself into Rishi’s arms.
But Rishi cleared his throat, took a sip of water. When he spoke again, he said, “I’m just really happy we’re going to make it work.”
Dimple smiled halfheartedly, disappointed but eager not to show it. Maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t said it. That just complicated things, didn’t it? Made them so much more serious? It was crazy enough they were going to do this long-distance after knowing each other six weeks. “Me too. It’s going to be hard, though, you know.”
He squeezed her hand. “I know. But we can do it. I mean, we started out this whole thing with you determined to hate me.”
She laughed. “True. I totally thought you were going to hold me back from winning.”
“But now?” He looked at her from under his lashes, smiling crookedly, and her heart skipped several beats.
“Now I know how lucky I am to have you on my team.”
His smile turned full force then, like he knew she was talking about more than just the web development aspect of it all. “Your papa is going to be so impressed when you win.”
She took a shaky breath. “I hope so. I really want him to be able to use it, you know? I want him to know how much it means to me, all the sacrifices he’s made.”
“Like what?” Rishi said, and it was clear he wasn’t just being polite. He really wanted to know more about her papa.
Dimple leaned back in her booth. With her free hand, she played with her napkin. “He had a tough start to his life, but he never talks about it. Mamma told me that apparently his dad used to drink and go into these rages. His mom, my daadi , would purposely anger him so that he’d beat her and spare Papa. When Papa was older, he tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn’t. And when he got married and he and my mom decided to come to the States, he tried to get Daadi to go with them, but she refused. He didn’t make very much money at first, but he still sent about half of it home to her. I guess he was hoping she’d sock it away and finally find the courage to leave his dad. But Daadi died when I was a baby. No one would tell him for sure how, though. The party line was that she slipped down some stairs.” Dimple shook her head. “Papa is this soft, gentle soul, you know? The exact opposite of me and Mamma. I could see how an experience like that could change you, harden you, make you into the monster you hated. But not Papa. If anything, I bet he used it to become a better husband and father.”
Rishi raised her hand to his lips. “He sounds incredible.”
Dimple smiled at him, reveling in the delicious shiver rolling up her spine at the touch of Rishi’s lips. “He is.”
“And what about your mamma?”
Dimple shrugged, the shiver winking out instantly. “She’s . . . Mamma. She believes my worth is directly tied to my beauty and my ability to land a husband. She doesn’t give a crap about my personality or my brains.”
“That can’t be right. There’s no way she sees what I see and thinks that about you.”
Dimple smirked. “Maybe you need to have a talk with her. I’m sure I’m in for an earful when I go back home.”
“Because we’re not getting married, you mean?”
“Yeah.” Dimple sighed, her mood darkening at the thought of that conversation.
“I’ll bet there’s a part of her you haven’t seen yet.”
Dimple looked up, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Rishi rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I don’t know; she’s your mom, you know. I feel like if you were really hurting or really needed her, she’d be there for you without question. And maybe there’s a part of her she hasn’t shared with you yet that’s totally not what you expect.”
Dimple thought that was likely utter BS , but instead she said, “Yeah, maybe. But tell me about your parents now.”
The waiter set down Dimple’s steaming, fragrant plate of cod and potatoes, garnished with halved boiled eggs. Rishi’s soup looked delicious, too, though Dimple thought she might’ve preferred it with sausage. Keeping their hands clasped between them in silent agreement, Dimple and Rishi began to eat.
“Hmm, let’s see. My dad, Pappa, he had a tough start too. His parents died in an accident when he was six or seven, so he was raised by this series of relatives who treated him badly. He basically put himself through college, and when he saw Ma, he knew he wanted to marry her. He didn’t have parents to go ask her parents for her hand in marriage, so he had to do it himself. And he knew it was unlikely that her parents would go for him—poor, with no family to speak of—so he just went in there and told her dad how much he cared for her. He promised to one day make enough money to give her the lifestyle she deserved.” Rishi smiled and ate a bite of potato. “Her dad, my nana , became Pappa’s biggest fan after that speech. He’s the one who helped them come to the States. He even gave them seed money to get Pappa’s first business started. It went bust, but the relationships he made there led to him coming in on the ground floor of Global Comm.”
Rishi bit on the inside of his lip to keep from smiling with pride. His little brother—all elbows and knees and Adam’s apple, and still learning so much from his bhaiyya . Dimple shifted beside him, and Celia frowned at Ashish. “What? Why not? You texted me that you wanted to talk.”
“Well, yeah,” Ashish said. “But I was just worried about you. I’m over it now.”
Ha! Ha ha ha. Rishi was so proud of Ashish. And, to be honest, of himself.
“You’re . . . over it?” Celia looked a lot more hurt than someone who didn’t really want to be with a “high school boy,” Dimple thought. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, like she might actually cry or was seriously considering it. She swallowed and looked at Dimple, who gave her a sympathetic nod. What the heck was wrong with Ashish? If he really liked Celia—and she’d read some of the texts; it seemed like he really did—why was he being so aloof? He kept darting these subtle glances at Rishi too. Dimple looked over at Rishi, frowning a little. He was nodding surreptitiously at Ashish, his eyebrows high. What . . .
“You wouldn’t have something to do with this, would you?” Dimple said, louder than she’d intended.
Rishi jumped and looked at her, the tips of his ears turning pink. He darted a glance at Ashish and then looked back at her. “Uh, what? With what? What are you talking about?”
Dimple raised an eyebrow and looked at Ashish, who looked back at her with an agonized expression on his face that pretty much yelled HELP . “Oh, for . . . Ashish, if you want to talk to Celia, you should. Right now. You should both go somewhere, by yourselves, without any interference”—here she looked sternly at Rishi, who hung his head and muttered something—“and just talk.” She felt maternal toward them, she realized, which was a shock. Dimple hadn’t felt maternal toward anybody in her life, except maybe Papa.
Gratefully, Celia and Ashish scrambled out of the booth and out the door.
When they were gone, Dimple turned to Rishi and tilted her head. “Really? You gave him dating advice?”
Rishi’s mouth fell open. “I resent that!”
She continued staring at him until he conceded with a “Yeah, okay. I really thought it’d work, though.”
Dimple laughed and rested her head on his shoulder, reveling in the hard musculature under his skin. “At least your intentions were good.”
The waiter came over, and Dimple ordered Bacalhau à Gomes de Sá, salted cod with onions and potatoes, while Rishi asked for Caldo Verde without the sausage. When the waiter was gone, Rishi wrapped a hand around Dimple’s on the table. She heard the smile in his voice even though he kept his face turned away, his gaze locked on their enmeshed hands. “I can’t believe we’re going to make this work long-distance.”
Dimple snorted. “Why? Because I’m such a pain in the butt?”
He looked at her, his eyes shining. “No, because I . . .”
The pause went on.
Oh my God. He . . . what? Was he going to say . . . that ? Those three little words? “You . . .” Dimple stared at him, urging him with her mind. Poke, poke, poke. Say it, dummy. Because I . . . do too.
I do too, she thought again, her world exploding in color at the sudden realization. I really, really do. It took everything Dimple had to not burst into a grin and launch herself into Rishi’s arms.
But Rishi cleared his throat, took a sip of water. When he spoke again, he said, “I’m just really happy we’re going to make it work.”
Dimple smiled halfheartedly, disappointed but eager not to show it. Maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t said it. That just complicated things, didn’t it? Made them so much more serious? It was crazy enough they were going to do this long-distance after knowing each other six weeks. “Me too. It’s going to be hard, though, you know.”
He squeezed her hand. “I know. But we can do it. I mean, we started out this whole thing with you determined to hate me.”
She laughed. “True. I totally thought you were going to hold me back from winning.”
“But now?” He looked at her from under his lashes, smiling crookedly, and her heart skipped several beats.
“Now I know how lucky I am to have you on my team.”
His smile turned full force then, like he knew she was talking about more than just the web development aspect of it all. “Your papa is going to be so impressed when you win.”
She took a shaky breath. “I hope so. I really want him to be able to use it, you know? I want him to know how much it means to me, all the sacrifices he’s made.”
“Like what?” Rishi said, and it was clear he wasn’t just being polite. He really wanted to know more about her papa.
Dimple leaned back in her booth. With her free hand, she played with her napkin. “He had a tough start to his life, but he never talks about it. Mamma told me that apparently his dad used to drink and go into these rages. His mom, my daadi , would purposely anger him so that he’d beat her and spare Papa. When Papa was older, he tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn’t. And when he got married and he and my mom decided to come to the States, he tried to get Daadi to go with them, but she refused. He didn’t make very much money at first, but he still sent about half of it home to her. I guess he was hoping she’d sock it away and finally find the courage to leave his dad. But Daadi died when I was a baby. No one would tell him for sure how, though. The party line was that she slipped down some stairs.” Dimple shook her head. “Papa is this soft, gentle soul, you know? The exact opposite of me and Mamma. I could see how an experience like that could change you, harden you, make you into the monster you hated. But not Papa. If anything, I bet he used it to become a better husband and father.”
Rishi raised her hand to his lips. “He sounds incredible.”
Dimple smiled at him, reveling in the delicious shiver rolling up her spine at the touch of Rishi’s lips. “He is.”
“And what about your mamma?”
Dimple shrugged, the shiver winking out instantly. “She’s . . . Mamma. She believes my worth is directly tied to my beauty and my ability to land a husband. She doesn’t give a crap about my personality or my brains.”
“That can’t be right. There’s no way she sees what I see and thinks that about you.”
Dimple smirked. “Maybe you need to have a talk with her. I’m sure I’m in for an earful when I go back home.”
“Because we’re not getting married, you mean?”
“Yeah.” Dimple sighed, her mood darkening at the thought of that conversation.
“I’ll bet there’s a part of her you haven’t seen yet.”
Dimple looked up, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Rishi rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I don’t know; she’s your mom, you know. I feel like if you were really hurting or really needed her, she’d be there for you without question. And maybe there’s a part of her she hasn’t shared with you yet that’s totally not what you expect.”
Dimple thought that was likely utter BS , but instead she said, “Yeah, maybe. But tell me about your parents now.”
The waiter set down Dimple’s steaming, fragrant plate of cod and potatoes, garnished with halved boiled eggs. Rishi’s soup looked delicious, too, though Dimple thought she might’ve preferred it with sausage. Keeping their hands clasped between them in silent agreement, Dimple and Rishi began to eat.
“Hmm, let’s see. My dad, Pappa, he had a tough start too. His parents died in an accident when he was six or seven, so he was raised by this series of relatives who treated him badly. He basically put himself through college, and when he saw Ma, he knew he wanted to marry her. He didn’t have parents to go ask her parents for her hand in marriage, so he had to do it himself. And he knew it was unlikely that her parents would go for him—poor, with no family to speak of—so he just went in there and told her dad how much he cared for her. He promised to one day make enough money to give her the lifestyle she deserved.” Rishi smiled and ate a bite of potato. “Her dad, my nana , became Pappa’s biggest fan after that speech. He’s the one who helped them come to the States. He even gave them seed money to get Pappa’s first business started. It went bust, but the relationships he made there led to him coming in on the ground floor of Global Comm.”
