The Bestseller She Wrote (12 page)

‘Hopefully.’

‘Did you read my manuscript? You told me in the morning that you have forty pages to go.’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘That’s it? “Yes, I did!”’ he exclaimed. ‘Isn’t there something called feedback?’

‘Of course there is. But everything has a price. Take me out for a drink and I will give you my feedback.’

‘Umm . . .’

‘This is not the time for “Umm”. When are you taking me out for a drink? I will only give you feedback if you indulge me.’

‘Well,’ Aditya smiled, and with a naughty look on his face said, ‘care to elaborate on what you mean when you say indulge me?’

Shreya waved her hand, ‘Just, tell me when?’

‘We could have gone now, but your friend is here.’

‘Tomorrow? What say?’ Shreya asked.

‘Whenever you say and wherever you want.’

‘Let’s go to some nice place, where we can sit, chit-chat, be ourselves.’

‘No better place than home. At least we don’t run the risk of people seeing us,’ Aditya offered.

‘Not my place. There are other people around.’

‘The last I checked, I had a house in Mumbai too.’

‘Aaaah . . . that way. You sure you want to invite me home?’ She had a naughty suggestive grin on her face.

Aditya smiled.

‘You won’t regret inviting me over? We do have a history,’ Shreya said playfully.

‘Not at all. I have never regretted anything in life.’

‘Except maybe kissing a hot bitch,’ Shreya laughed at him.

‘You mean a super hot author.’ Aditya knew she liked being called that.

Shreya latched on immediately. ‘No. Not yet. I’m not an author yet. That will be once you set me up with a publisher. And from the looks of it, Mr Kapoor, you don’t seem to be doing anything on that front.’

‘Normally when you approach a publisher, you send a manuscript. At least that’s the way it used to be,’ Aditya replied.

‘I will bring it when I meet you tomorrow.’

‘Hey Shreya!’ A loud exclamation broke up their discussion. She turned and looked towards the arrival gate.

‘Sunainaaaaaa!’ Shreya screamed and ran to hug her. ‘So good to see you, babes. Was beginning to miss you,’ Sunaina reacted to her squeal.

Sunaina was pleasantly surprised to see Aditya at the airport. ‘I haven’t read your books, Aditya. You must pardon me. But let me tell you, after your visit to IIM, my friend here has become a huge, huge fan of yours. So much so, that had you been single, she would have snapped you up.’

Aditya smiled shyly. He dropped both of them to Shreya’s house and left.

Once they were in Shreya’s room, Sunaina pounced on her, ‘Is something cooking?’

‘As in?’

‘Are you guys seeing each other?’

‘Not yet . . .’

‘What do you mean not yet?’

‘Not yet means not yet. It means I am not seeing him. I am happy just being with him. He is a nice guy. He can also get me to my ultimate objective of making a mark as an author. Fighting a lone battle in this field is tough, babes.’

‘So you are using him. Why does everything have to have an underlying motive for you?’

‘It’s not like that.’

‘Just watch out, Shreya. Someone will get hurt in this relationship—if I can call it one,’ Sunaina cautioned. ‘Either you, or him or his wife. This can only end in heartbreak and chaos.’

‘I am in control of my emotions, babe. Trust me I am,’ Shreya dismissed her concerns.

27

I
N RELATIONSHIPS, PARTICULARLY
those that are adulterous in nature, the first time is always the most difficult. That’s the point in time when one’s conscience makes its presence felt the most and people are consumed by regret. Once that bridge is crossed regret is often forgotten.

Aditya spent the entire Saturday in anticipation. He cleaned up the house to make sure that it was in good shape to welcome Shreya. He checked with her and made sure her favourite vodka was in stock. He ordered food from Little Italy well in advance. This was the first time she was coming home. He had even stocked up on condoms.

At 7 pm, he showered and started getting dressed. He sprayed on his favourite deodorant, and changed into his Armani jeans and a Tommy Hilfiger tee. He switched off the harsh chandelier and switched on the soft mood lights and waited for Shreya. The Italian pianist Einaudi’s music was seductively streaming through his Bose home theatre.

It was 8 pm, by the time Shreya rang the bell. Aditya was surprised to see Sunaina in tow and could barely hide his disappointment. Sunaina sensed Aditya’s displeasure. ‘Just came along to say hi. Not staying back, so don’t panic. I’m headed for a movie.’

Aditya’s sigh of relief was so loud that Sunaina almost heard it. As she was leaving, she looked at Shreya and asked her, a twinkle in her eyes, ‘Coming back tonight?’ Shreya just smiled in response.

‘You look sizzling,’ Aditya commented when he shut the main door and walked behind Shreya into the living room. He was not making it up. Shreya was dressed in a stunning bush shirt held at the hip by a thin black belt. It gave a sexy, curve-hugging illusion that left Aditya mesmerized. She had left her hair open and it was falling over her shoulders so very gracefully, that she looked like she had stepped straight out of a fashion magazine.

She sashayed to the couch in the living room, removed her sandals and made herself comfortable. As she slid back to rest her back against the wall, her shirt slid up a few inches, revealing milky white, freshly waxed thighs. Aditya wanted to feast on them soon.

‘What?’ she asked him seductively. ‘Now will you please stop staring at me and get my drink, please?’

Hurriedly he turned away and walked to the bar. ‘What will you have?’

‘Do you have olives?’

‘Hmm . . . yes.’

‘I will have a Martini then.’

‘Ahaaa . . . Dirty Martini.’ He turned to look at Shreya. The shirt had slid up a couple of inches more than the last time. Whether it was intentional or not, he couldn’t tell. ‘How dirty do you want your Martini?’ he asked as he glanced back, simultaneously opening the bottle of vodka.

‘How about,’ she paused, looked at the ceiling and added, ‘how about you make it . . . filthyyyyy?’ Filthy Martini was nothing but Dirty Martini with capers instead of olives, but the way she dragged the word, seemed to imply something much more.

He walked back to the couch with two glasses in hand—single malt on the rocks for himself and Filthy Martini for Shreya.

‘There you go,’ he said, handing over the glass to her. ‘If you need anything more filthy . . . I am here,’ he said, laughing. She giggled.

Shreya took the glass from his hand and kept it on the side table. She dug into her bag and pulled out a large envelope. She handed over the packet to Aditya, ‘My story.’

‘Aah . . .’ Aditya suddenly got excited. ‘So this is the one which created such a ruckus in your life.’ He took the papers out of the envelope and flipped through them.

‘You will help me publish this, right?’

‘If I am not able to, no one else will, sweetheart.’ As he said this, she extended her arms towards him. He slid next to her and hugged her. This time around, the hug was more intimate than the one in her house a few days back.

‘But you read it first, before you send it to anyone else. And then tell me if it is worth getting published. Tell me if I have a future as an author.’

‘I will, I will. But that reminds me, someone was to give me serious feedback on my book, over a drink.’ He released her from the hug and his hands came to rest on her smooth thighs. ‘If in the next thirty seconds you don’t start, then don’t blame me if I get seduced. You are looking like a naughty, sexy angel.’

‘Okay enough,’ she pushed him back. ‘If you want me to give you serious pointers, then sit at least six feet away from me. No touching. No kissing.’

‘What? This condition is unacceptable,’ he thundered.

‘You want me to tell you or not?’

‘Okay. Your wish is my command,’ he said and stepped back and sat on the sofa.

‘All right,’ she began. Aditya took a deep breath. He was nervous.

‘I loved the manuscript.’

‘Really?’ Aditya grinned. Every author loves someone telling him that they loved his book.

Shreya nodded. ‘Yes. I loved it.’

‘And?’

‘Hold on. Don’t rush it.’

‘Cool,’ Aditya rested his back on the sofa and sat back. ‘I won’t interrupt.’

‘I loved it because a) it is a great story b) it’s brilliantly paced c) it ends very well d) the language is simple and easy and e) the characters are relatable. But . . .’

‘But what?’

‘I am a nobody here, Aditya . . .’

‘As in?’ Aditya looked at her suspiciously, wondering what was coming.

‘I meant to say that you are obviously way more knowledgeable about this than I am, but I noticed some places where I felt that the sentence construction was not appropriate; some minor errors. I have made a few changes and I also felt that in one aspect, you need to fundamentally change your approach.’

‘So the management trainee is going to give some English lessons to the business head?’ Aditya cocked his head.

Shreya looked away. ‘Okay, forget it. I will not send you those corrections. I should’ve known better than . . .’ she didn’t finish her sentence and looked away.

Aditya looked at her fondly and smiled. ‘Thanks, Shreya. Send it to me on a soft copy. I will take a look.’

Shreya’s face lit up. ‘Really? You will take a look at it? Wow! I am so thrilled.’ A big smile adorned her face. ‘I’ve already made the changes on the printout. You can go through them. This is what sets you apart. You are so open to feedback, something which no other author of your stature will be.’

‘Doesn’t feedback help you improve? Anyway what about that one fundamental change in approach or something you mentioned?’

Shreya looked at him, and without demonstrating any emotion said, ‘The sex in the book is cold. It is thanda. I wonder how a person, who is such a fabulous kisser, writes such drab sex scenes.’

Aditya didn’t say anything. This was feedback he had not expected. He tried to rationalise. ‘I guess I am uncomfortable writing about sex.’

‘Then why write about it? I am sure you can figure out a way to make it classy without talking about it.’

‘I kind of just touch upon the topic and move on. I leave it to the reader’s interpretation.’

‘Not having erotic content is better than having a horribly written sex scene. Bad sex is a huge turn off.’

‘Is it really that bad?’

Shreya nodded her head, ‘Yes, it is.’ She thought for a while and said, ‘Clumsy, yes, clumsy is the right word.’

‘I tried a lot, Shreya. I even rewrote every sequence multiple times. But, I don’t know why, it never comes out right for me.’

‘Apart from that everything in the book is super; a winner all the way. Figure out a way to fix it,’ she said.

‘Let me rework those portions. I will critically re-examine them,’ Aditya said as he walked to refill his glass of whisky. ‘Another Filthy Martini?’

‘Halfway through mine. Maybe later,’ Shreya said. ‘Tell me, Aditya, that day when you kissed me, did you think of me when you came back home?’

‘How could I not? You kiss fabulously and I haven’t been kissed like that in a while.’

‘Really?’

He turned from the kitchen counter and took one hard look at her. Is this luck? Or do relationships grow like this organically? Her comment about the sex in his books being cold was bothering him. Was her interpretation of the sex in his books an extension of her impression of him?

‘What is taking so long?’ she asked from the couch.

‘In a minute,’ he replied.

As he walked back into the room, she noticed a slight frown on his face.

‘What’s that frown for?’

‘I am not frowning.’

‘Yes you are,’ she insisted.

‘Am I?’

‘Okay, now you are in denial. What’s bothering you?’ she pursued the conversation, but got no response. She smiled. ‘I think I know,’ she said.

‘What do you know?’ he asked, curious. How could she know that he was upset at her calling the sex in his book thanda.

Before responding, she turned, and began by first stretching her legs, letting her dress ride up further, and then folding her knees, bringing them to her chest, giving him a good look straight down her legs, and between her thighs.

He took in a long breath. Surely she knew what she was doing. The glint in her eyes confirmed that.

‘Do you like what you see?’ she asked.

‘Shreya!’ He let escape involuntarily, as he walked straight upto her and knelt down by her feet. ‘You have the most awesome legs that I have ever seen.’ He ran his fingers up her velvety thighs.

She slapped him on his fingers. ‘Stop teasing me. You pervert!’ she laughed. ‘And move your hands off my thighs. You are tickling me.’ Aditya didn’t say a word. He just sat down at her feet and continued running his hands up her thighs.