Codename lotus, p.13
Codename Lotus, page 13
I set my hand over hers. “Thank you. For taking my mind off everything.”
Naomi was about to respond when her phone rang.
The name on the screen made my stomach drop.
“It’s Sid,” she said.
Those two bites of roti turned to stone. I didn’t want to worry my brother—he’d easily spot something was off. It was why I’d ignored his call earlier. “He doesn’t know the details of what Manish…”
Naomi covered the phone with her hand. “I won’t say anything,” she mouthed before stepping out of the kitchen.
“Sid, can’t sleep?” Naomi’s voice drifted back from the hall.
I stared at the steam lifting from my plate. The last few hours unfurled in my mind: the movie the other night, how she’d opened up in a way most straight women never would without fearing I had an agenda, the heart she showed hosting that barbecue for the kids, and now this warm meal she’d made just for me.
Even the expression on her face, when she couldn’t bear the thought of them seeing her as evil, stayed with me.
But above all, it was her rescue tonight.
I let myself feel it. The pull in my chest when I heard her voice. The ridiculous flutter whenever she walked into a room. The way my skin pebbled at the trace of her perfume in the air.
“Oh no,” I whispered, threading my fingers through my hair.
This wasn’t leftover teenage infatuation.
It was deeper.
Real.
“Oh God…” I pressed my palms to my face, heat rising under them. “What am I going to do?”
13
GREENHOUSE PURGE AND GHOSTS
NAOMI
By morning I’d had every lavender bush pulled.
Out on the lawn, the empty patches looked like missing brushstrokes. The gardener filled the voids with fresh turf. The neatness soothed and needled in equal measure.
Lea’s footsteps skimmed the quiet. I leaned over to pick up the broom and saw her.
“I’m really sorry, Miss Naomi,” she said, brows pinched. “My mother didn’t mean any trouble with the lavender. She’s always so sharp. I don’t know what happened.”
Quite an oversight.
I’d insisted my mother’s garden remain as it was, intact, flower variety included. I had even reassured Saanya, months ago, that there wasn’t any planted here.
I loathed incompetence.
Still, I kept my voice even, though I felt as if something was yanking at my insides. “It’s fine, Lea. These things happen.”
The greenhouse beyond the trees looked more real in daylight, vines swallowing the glass, every memory sealed inside.
…
“But Miss Saanya, is she okay?”
“She’s managing.” My jaw started to throb. Had I ever fired someone for merely annoying me? Saanya would probably feel responsible if I did. Though I had already gathered that thinking of Saanya was not helping Lea’s case.
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“No—Lea. Thank you.” I was sharp, perhaps too sharp. I rubbed my temples. “I appreciate it. Truly. We’re fine.”
“All right. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She wrung her hands nervously.
As our conversation tapered off, I reached for the cleaning supplies I had brought for the greenhouse. There was much to do, and still…
“I could make a nice meal for Miss Saanya, you know, or perhaps take her into town, something to distract her.”
I began sweeping away the gathered leaves.
But when Lea’s steady stream of well-meaning offers continued, and my responses grew shorter, my focus split between the physical task and the mental effort to remain courteous. The first drag of bristles over the cobbles unlatched a buried door.
“What about—”
“NO, LEA!” My shout was so loud that it almost rattled the old glass panes.
Lea froze, eyes wide. “Oh. Of course, Miss Naomi. I-I’ll be working on lunch,” she said and scurried back to the house.
My chest felt crushed; I could barely breathe.
The breeze fanned my cheeks, and suddenly I was eight again, running from the swing set into her arms. My mother knelt beside me inside the greenhouse as she tended to her beloved flowers, teaching me how to keep them alive. Her voice was soft and melodic as she spoke to me.
The burning sensation in my eyes brought me back to the old glass panes.
Back then, I’d refused to deal with my parents’ last rites. I didn’t attend the pyre ceremony. Instead, I returned to Switzerland and locked this place—her favorite place on earth—sealing inside it whatever little I had left of her.
I never opened it again.
Throughout my adulthood, I’d carried a small, beautiful box in the depths of my mind, where I’d once tucked away all my memories of them. Our moments. It hurt less not seeing them. Not their pictures, not their things, not anything that reminded me I had nothing left in this world but the breath in my lungs.
Nothing that truly counted, at least.
“They deserve to be remembered, Beta,” my aunt Neela had once told me.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t cope. I couldn’t function.
I’d kept that box shut for so long the key had vanished—and the day I tried to reach for it, I realized I’d locked away most of what I remembered of them. I was sure they were somewhere in my brain, just out of reach. Yet, every now and then, a memory slipped through the cracks, catching me off guard, ambushing me when I least expected it.
My knuckles whitened around the broom. What use were tears? Anger burst inside me like an erupting volcano, and before I could stop it—
My throat burned. A growl started low, then broke loose. Ragged.
I screamed.
The broom flew from my hands, clattering across the lawn. Birds burst from the tree above, scattering into the sky.
Fresh from the shower and wrapped in a towel, I reached for my phone. It had been ringing incessantly for the past few minutes, shattering the little peace I’d just carved out for myself. It was Ethan again.
“Naomi, baby. How’s Austria?” His voice was smooth over the phone. He sounded so unpreoccupied that even though he wasn’t responsible for my mood, it still annoyed me.
“Busy,” I said, sinking onto the bed, my back against the headboard. “Meetings. Negotiations.”
Ethan laughed. Funny, that sound had once made my heart lift, and now it made my scalp tighten. “Such a workaholic. I miss you. You know?”
My mind flashed to our early days—the whirlwind romance, the grand gestures. But that had faded into what?
With everything that had happened these past few months—the Thera Corp deal, shifting my entire business operation and my life.
Saanya.
I had barely had time to think of anything that wasn’t business or personal safety, let alone miss anyone. The only thing I missed was the exclusive comfort of my New York life—the luxurious, rejuvenating facials by my esthetician and the exquisite meals prepared by my personal chef. That’s what I missed. Though I could easily get all that here if I wanted.
I smoothed the hem of my towel. Ethan’s declaration hung in the air, and I sighed, keenly aware of the expectation in his voice. “Well, it’s been a demanding couple of weeks.”
Had it been that long since I last had a proper conversation with him?
“Thera Corp is taking up all my time, and now probably the Japan deal.”
“Japan. Wow. Oh, well. Once you make your millions, you’ll forget all about the heartache, babe.”
Changing the subject, Ethan spoke of his latest venture. I listened, offering the occasional affirmation.
“Listen,” he said at last, brightening. “Mom and Dad are still in Europe, touching down in Zurich in a few weeks. I’ll fly in to see them for a couple of days. I’ll use our Swiss place. Could you call your Geneva maid and have it ready?”
My spine went rigid.
“No.”
What the hell were Ethan’s parents doing in Zurich?
I suddenly remembered. That ridiculous yearly four-month vacation.
Ethan’s smooth, easy laugh sounded on the other side. “No?”
“The house is...being remodeled,” I lied. The last thing I needed was Ethan here. Not only would my cover be blown, but he would be insufferable once he realized I was doing this as a favor to Sidharth. Not that I ever hid our friendship from him. After all, Sidharth was my oldest friend—my best and only true friend. My brother. A concept difficult to grasp for most men.
My only true friend. My heart kicked up a beat, reminding me: What about Saanya?
“A remodel?”
“Yes. A remodel. Besides, Geneva is more than three hours away from Zurich. Why go through the inconvenience?”
“Our mansion doesn’t compare to any hotel,” he said, self-satisfied. I hated it when he boasted. “That’s unlike you, though, not mentioning such a significant expense.”
“Why should I? I’m paying for it. I didn’t think it necessary to report every decision to you.”
Ethan paused, then laughed it off. “Whoa, babe, didn’t mean to step on your toes. Just curious, is all.”
I could feel the conversation teetering on the edge of a precipice I wasn’t ready to confront. Ethan was my soon-to-be husband, and the fact remained: if it were a remodel, I wouldn’t have asked for permission—for heaven’s sake, it was my house, not ours—but he was right, I would’ve mentioned it. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision,” I said. “You know how I am with those architectural magazines. I got inspired.”
“You’ve always had a mind of your own. Well, I’ll have my secretary book a room at the Baur au Lac.” He sighed. “Speaking of Zurich, why don’t you fly over from Austria? We could have a small celebration with my parents. Dad wants to have dinner with us. It’s been ages since we did something like that.”
I dusted some lint off the towel. “I don’t know, let me see what I can do.”
“Naomi…”
I thought it through in seconds. For Saanya’s sake and my peace, probably making it to that dinner would be best. Avoid scrutiny. Worst case scenario, I’d fly to Zurich for a couple of days and send Ethan and his parents back to New York. “I’ll have Allison work it into my schedule.”
“Please do try. I’d like to have my fiancé with me. Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing you.” He cleared his throat, his voice dropping. “What are you…uh…wearing right now?”
The question felt like eyes that were pinning me down on the bed.
I shifted, my fingers curling around the hem of the towel as I closed it tighter over my breasts. “In your dreams I’ll be doing that over the phone.”
“In my dreams you have,” he murmured, practiced and suave. “It’s been months since you left.”
“So what? Have you no self-control?”
“When it comes to you, who could? Do you blame me?”
I wanted to roll my eyes. “Goodbye, Ethan.”
“Always so serious. Lighten up, Naomi. I’ll see you soon,” he said, ending the call with a breezy chuckle.
I let myself fall back onto the bed. The last thing I needed, indeed.
Later, in the living room, even my BoNova chaise felt like stone with the mood I was in. Saanya sat across from me, phone in hand, thigh jittering. That was her tell when anxious. But today there was an edge to it.
So when she huffed, I felt her unease leap onto my shoulders.
I looked up from my book.
“Is something the matter?” I heard the steel in my own voice, misdirected as it was.
She sighed. “It’s from Manish’s mother.”
“What? How did she get this number?”
“It wasn’t a text message. She emailed me, actually.”
It was enough to set me off. “After the hell her son put you through, she still has the gall to—what did she say?”
“That she’s disappointed. That I am being selfish for going on holiday right now. That’s…the summary of it, at least.” She bit her lip. “I did change my number and disappear without a word. Maybe she’s worried.”
I scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”
“I mean…”
I snapped my book shut. “Worried? Saanya, you can’t truly believe—she should be apologizing, not sending you guilt trips.”
“She’s still his mother. And I don’t want to add to the drama. It’s easier this way. To just...”
I could feel my heart rate pick up. “To what?” When I said it, I saw the shock in her face. That should have made me stop. But I didn’t. “Comply? How is that fair to you?”
She flinched. The room seemed to grow heavier with the silence that followed.
“…I know, but…like it or not, I’ll be tied to them for life. Even if they have no idea about the baby. And I did just disappear,” she finally said, her voice laced with that familiar guilt I hated hearing in her.
I was so tired of seeing her hurt, of watching her bend over backwards to please people who didn’t deserve her kindness. People who didn’t appreciate her. And watching her take it.
But instead of apologizing, instead of saying the words that were lodged in my throat, I stood there and said things that couldn’t be unsaid.
“Aren’t you tired of being everyone else’s punching bag? Have some self-respect, Saanya.”
Her lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but she hesitated. Then, instead of a retort, instead of anger, she just exhaled and looked down. I even saw tears glistening in her eyes.
I saw disappointment. I saw shame. I saw exhaustion.
Her fingers smoothed over the hem of her sleeve, a small, restless movement, before she finally murmured, “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
I watched her go. I should’ve said something—anything—but I just watched her go.
Work usually cleared the air for me, but our argument hung around me, pestering the quiet of my night, conveniently enough.
I paced my bedroom, trying to lose myself in a conversation with Mark about the Japan deal, but my mind kept drifting back to her.
“Naomi?”
“Yes. I’m here. Let me write that down.” I leaned over my notes.
Then I heard it. Faint at first, but unmistakable. A muffled cry. I paused, the pen in my hand freezing mid-scribble. Could Saanya be watching TV at this hour?
“I got a peek at their quarterly reports. They’re a disaster.”
The sound came again, clearer this time, and dread settled in my stomach.
“Naomi. Did you hear me?”
“Mark, I need to go. We’ll continue this in the morning.” I cut him off and hung up.
My heart pounded as I hurried down the hallway to Saanya’s room.
I pushed the door open, and the sight stopped me cold. She was thrashing in her sleep, face twisted in anguish, body glistening with sweat. “Devika, no…my baby. Don’t take—” she whimpered. “My baby.”
Devika. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Manish’s mother. The connection was immediate and sickening. That blasted email.
“Saanya,” I said, low, steady. “Wake up. It’s a nightmare.” I shook her shoulder gently.
She jolted upright, wild-eyed, and seized my hand. “Naomi.”
Her grip was tight, desperate, as if she feared letting go would drag her straight back into it.
I squeezed her hand, and she suddenly leaned into me, burying her face into my chest.
“Shh,” I murmured, my palm at the back of her head. “It’s over. You’re safe.”
She was trembling.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to…”
There was a sadness in her.
“Don’t apologize.” I brushed a damp strand from her forehead. “You’re safe, Saanya. That’s all that matters.”
We sat like that, her breathing slowly leveling, her grip loosening without letting go.
Then it hit me—the sudden awareness of our tangled hands.
The warmth of it.
We both looked down at the same time. I saw the flush creep up her cheeks as she quickly released me. The dread in her eyes gave me pause.
“I…I should let you get some rest,” I said, standing. “Do you need anything? Water, perhaps?”
She shook her head. “No. Thank you, Naomi.”
I nodded, hesitating for just a moment before turning to leave. “Goodnight, Saanya.”
“Goodnight,” she whispered back, her voice small in the darkness.
I paused at the door, looking back at her. She was rearranging the sheets. She seemed so small in that bed. The urge to make it better gnawed at me. Because I’d treated her so horribly only hours ago, I had probably detonated this nightmare.
Words crowded my mouth, yet none of them were right. I closed the door softly.
SAANYA
“Saanya, do you have a moment?”
I had just made myself a cup of chai.
I kept my back to her for a breath, then turned. “Of course.” I rinsed my hands and dried them. “What is it?”
She was wearing that Valentino suit, the blazer caped over her shoulders. I loved when Naomi wore her jackets like that, the clean lines of the shoulder pads accentuating her confidence. It was difficult to keep my resolve when she looked that good.
Naomi’s eyes were a startling, unapologetic green, like a forest floor after hard rain, beautiful in a way that felt almost unfair.
But today, there was something different there, something so completely unusual for her: hesitation.
“Would you feel comfortable going for a walk in the garden?”
My stomach dipped.
Was she trying to torture me? First, that little jab the other day after Devika’s email, and now this? Flashes of my panic attack snapped in my mind. “Naomi, the lavender…”
“I had them pulled.”
“Oh.” Warmth spread through my chest. “Then, sure.”
We walked side by side, the silence easy for once. We hadn’t really spoken since the row, except for the night she woke me from that nightmare.
