A Sticky Wicket in Bollywood Page 5

  Ajay burst out laughing. “Living with Neel? Oh goodness no. I’d end up killing him.

  I’m not sure how any of his girlfriends deal with him. Maybe that’s why they never last long.”

  Rajan relaxed even as he scolded himself for caring either way. “So it’s just you then?

  Tell me about your house.”

  “It’s up in the hills overlooking the city about ten minutes north of here. It has five bedroom suites, so everyone has their own private bathroom. There’s a pool and a gate guards the driveway. Trust me, Raj, if you were to come for a visit, no one would ever be able to get in, or even know you’re around.” Ajay shrugged as he fidgeted with his napkin. “I chose it for privacy, not because it was fancy or expensive.”

  Rajan compared that to his revolving door house. “It sounds like heaven,” he said truthfully.

  Ajay shot him a quick glance from under his eyelashes. “Only three people have keys to my house. My housekeeper, Neel and myself. Not even my agent gets one. I’m not interested in being stalked. Also, I have guards who make sure no one climbs the fence around my property.”

  He tried to think of how many copies of his house keys were floating around out there, but finally gave up when he reached double digits. “I’d love to see it sometime.”

  Ajay reached out to softly touch Raj’s hand. “You’re always welcome. Any time you need a place to hide away. Even when I’m not in town, I’ll let Mrs Mehra know you have my permission to visit whenever.”

  Rajan was touched. He moved his fingers slightly. Just a bit more and they would be holding hands, but then he remembered that even though it felt like they were in their own little world, they probably had dozens of eyes on them. He eased his hand away instead and watched as Ajay’s eyebrows dipped into a slight frown before smoothing out again.

  Rajan sat back as the waiter brought their tea service and arranged everything on the table. Ajay didn’t let up in his scrutiny for a moment while they were being served. When they were finally alone again, Raj said quietly, “What are we doing here, Ajay?”

  Ajay blew on his chai before taking a sip. He dropped his gaze to the table between them. “I came because I wanted to see you face to face, Raj. I needed to know you were okay.

  I’ve missed talking to you, and I’m hoping we can work on being friends again. Oh, I also wanted to say I’m sorry to hear about your mother’s illness.”

  Rajan could feel his eyebrows rise before he regained control of his expression. When Ajay had been his roommate, he’d made it clear that he disliked his maa. Rajan did appreciate the sentiment, though. It had been a very rough year for her as she’d battled leukaemia. Chemotherapy wasn’t doing much to even slow down the abnormal cells taking over her blood and bone marrow. She wouldn’t give up trying, though, and it was killing Raj to watch her dying before his very eyes.

  His throat swelled as he thought of her as he’d seen her yesterday, a mere shell of her former movie star beauty. She wouldn’t even let Rajan see her without a wig and makeup on, though the effect was heartbreaking. He humoured her, always giving her notice of his visits so she had time to primp and prepare. And he always made sure to tell her how lovely she looked.

  He took a deep drink of his tea to buy himself some time. Ajay’s sympathetic expression almost undid him. He abruptly changed the subject to ask about Ajay’s team’s chances this season, and if Ajay knew he’d used it as a diversion, he didn’t embarrass Rajan by indicating as such.

  They chatted about neutral topics for long enough that Rajan became aware of the coolness of the night air on his bare arms. The courtyard was still full, but with adults only at this point. Ajay obviously noted his distraction and leant back in his chair to stretch, pulling his blue silk shirt taut over the prominent muscles of his chest and abdomen.

  Just like that, an awareness was piqued in Rajan, one that had lain dormant for years.

  His mouth went dry as memories of rubbing up against the slighter, younger Ajay assailed him.

  “It’s getting late. I’m sorry for going on like that,” he apologised, and Ajay smiled warmly at him.

  “No need for an apology. I did my share of talking as well. It was nice to catch up with you. I forgot how much I enjoyed just sitting around and spending time with you.” Ajay glanced at his watch and grimaced. “Yes, I should be going home. I have practice tomorrow, and I hate not having slept well the night before.”

  Ajay gestured for the waiter to bring their bill. Before Raj could argue, Ajay had paid it and stood.

  Raj was suddenly reluctant to let their time together end. “Can I offer you a ride? I have a service, and we can drop you off.” He pulled out his phone and texted his location to the company he normally used.

  Frowning, Ajay shook his head. “As much as I’d love to spend more time with you, Raj, I think it’s best we go our separate ways tonight. There will already be a lot of talk in the papers and on the news tomorrow about us being in public together. There will be questions that naturally come when anyone is seen with me.”

  For a brief moment, the thought went through Rajan’s head that maybe meeting Ajay in public had been a mistake. He immediately felt ashamed of the reaction. Just because they’d had tea together didn’t mean anything, but in the more salacious media venues, they would automatically assume that any male in contact with an out gay man was himself gay.

  “We’ll say goodnight here then. I’m…” Rajan paused to collect his thoughts. “Ajay, I’m glad we finally broke our silence. I’ve…missed you.” The confession hadn’t been planned but once it had passed his lips, he knew how true it was.

  Ajay gripped his shoulder in a quick squeeze. “I missed you too, Raj. Hopefully this will be only the first of many conversations we have. May I text or call you tomorrow?”

  Relief swept through Rajan as he firmly pushed away the mental list of everything he had to do tomorrow. “I look forward to it.”

  “Marvellous. Be careful on your way home, Raj. I’ll talk to you soon.” Ajay slipped by Raj, walking close enough to brush the backs of their hands together.

  Raj watched as Ajay walked confidently through the crowd towards the front of the restaurant before disappearing from his sight. When the text came that his car was out front, he headed that way, more than ready to go home and process everything that had happened this evening.

  Chilled, he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his pants then stopped, startled, as he touched a…piece of paper? He pulled it out. No, a napkin. Frowning, he opened it. A different sort of chill ran through him and his jaw dropped as he read what could only be termed a threat.

  Be faithful to Karishma if you know what’s good for you!

  Chapter Six

  The trainer led Rajan through his post-workout stretches, ones he’d done hundreds if not thousands of times, so his mind was free to wander back to the note he’d got the night before. He couldn’t swear that the napkin, which was a plain, white square one like you’d get with a drink at a bar, hadn’t been there when he’d put on the pants. Someone could have put it in there at some point prior to him dressing for the evening. His outfit had been laying out for most of the day, since Armaan always made sure he was pressed and perfect.

  But that would mean that someone with access to his household had threatened him.

  No. More likely, someone had stuck it into his pocket while he had been out. He thought about the hand that had wedged into his pocket as he’d been exiting the nightclub. Why, though, would some random person, a stranger, be so concerned about his relationship with Karishma?

  Even as he thought it, he mentally snorted. He pivoted to the right and balanced in a lunge with his hands in a prayer position. There were fans out there who were borderline crazy and obsessed. Why they cared, he had no idea, but he knew there were those who watched everything he did and ate it up.

  He twisted his torso back to centre and rolled up to an overhead stretch then bent to place his hands flat on the fl
oor. He suddenly recalled the phone message that Armaan had taken a few days ago. Something about Rajan losing something and they were keeping it?

  What had he done with that message? Were they somehow connected?

  He would ask Armaan about the caller, whether he remembered if they were male or female…

  Ugh. Stop worrying about it. It’s just some nutjob.

  Yeah, who knows your phone number and stuck their hand down your pants!

  “Hi, darling.”

  Rajan quickly rose and his head swam a bit from the sudden change of position.

  “Karishma, hello. You surprised me.” He walked over to greet her and the trainer waved goodbye and slipped out of the private dance studio. Karishma tilted her head when he reached her, and he gave her the expected kiss on the cheek. “Do you have a session today?”

  “I already did. I was in a different studio. Can’t you tell how sweaty I am?”

  He looked her up and down, and honestly, she looked no different than usual, though her sports top and yoga pants were much more casual than her typical attire.

  “Sweat wouldn’t dare break out on your perfect skin,” he joked.

  She laughed at the over-the-top flattery. “I can’t say the same about you. Yuck.”

  I’ll bet Ajay wouldn’t mind my sweat. He plucked at his damp tank top as his nipples tightened at the thought.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Why don’t you shower and we’ll go to lunch?”

  “I’m actually planning to go to Maa’s for lunch,” he explained, then reluctantly continued in the face of her expectant expression, “but you’re welcome to join me. I’m sure she’d be glad to see you.” Please say no…

  “I’d love to. You go shower and give me a chance to freshen up. About a half hour?”

  Rajan knew that meant an hour. But she was actually being pretty pleasant today, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…

  “And, Raji, make sure the car is waiting so we don’t have to linger around out front like vagrants, yeah?”

  He carefully made sure she’d turned her back to walk away before he rolled his eyes.

  Maa and Karishma in the same room? It was going to be an interesting lunch…and not in a good way.

  * * * *

  Usually Rajan just let himself in, but since his mother wasn’t expecting Karishma too, he rang the bell. Karishma was beautifully dressed in an elegant sari, not something she usually chose to wear, and Rajan figured he’d been played. Yeah, right. She just happened to have an appropriate outfit in her dance bag or her locker at the studio.

  They were let in by his maa’s companion, Mrs Kapoor, who didn’t bat an eye at seeing Karishma with Rajan.

  “Come in, my dears. Your mother is waiting for you in the salon.”

  She led the way through to the verdant room with windows on three walls. Stepping down into the sunken room—crammed full of tropical plants and decorated with bright floral furniture—always felt a bit like stepping onto a jungle set. The sight of his mother poised in her well positioned chair did nothing to negate the staged impression.

  “Hello, Maa. I’ve brought Karishma for a visit today.” He crossed the room to carefully kiss her powdered cheeks then held out his hand to encourage Karishma to approach.

  She gave a pretty bow, then lowered herself gracefully to the floor in front of his maa.

  “Hello, Mrs Malik.” She took Maa’s hands in her own. “It’s so wonderful to see you well.”

  “Raji.” His mother acknowledged him with a nod then turned to Karishma. “You are looking lovely today. It does my heart good to see you two young people together.” She waved at the loveseat adjacent to her chair. “Have a seat. Mrs Kapoor, you will please pour and then leave us.”

  Rajan’s suspicions were confirmed when he noticed three place settings on the low table. Evidently his maa and Karishma had engineered the whole chance meeting and lunch invite. He tried not to grimace. Maa loved her drama.

  He took in her increasingly frail form and pale skin, troubled by the pinched look to her face. She had obviously gone to some trouble to try to conceal the age spots and bruising on her hands and arms, but he recognised makeup when he saw it. Her skin was so paper-thin and her immunity so low that the slightest bump or pressure either bruised or tore it.

  The room was quiet while Mrs Kapoor finished pouring then quietly retreated. Rajan took over, fixing his mother’s cup the way she liked it. She weakly waved it off when he offered it to her and he replaced it on the table then glanced at Karishma. She leant forward to splash a bit of milk into hers, so he went ahead and prepared his own. By now the silence was deafening.

  “Very nice photo of the two of you at that club last night,” Maa led off the conversation.

  “Though you could have given the people a chance to take one without you being all hunched over her.” This was said without heat, but it wouldn’t be a visit without her giving her motherly opinion on something he had done wrong.

  Rajan hadn’t seen it, but figured she was referring to when he’d leant down to kiss Karishma goodbye. “Thank you, Maa.”

  “Congratulations on your upcoming co-starring roles. I’m very pleased,” she continued, a smile playing at her lips.

  “We’re very excited about it, Mrs Malik,” Karishma answered for them. “Hopefully this is only the first of many we will headline together.” She cocked her head in a coy manner and glanced from beneath her lashes at Rajan, and he suppressed a smile at her behaviour.

  She was a good actress. Evidently today she was playing the role of dutiful daughter-figure and supplicant to Bollywood royalty. He appreciated it, though, as his mother seemed to be eating it up and it was nice to see her enjoyment of the visit.

  “Yes, I’m sure it will be.” Maa took on a slightly sly expression. “That ring looks lovely on your hand, child.”

  Rajan frowned. Ring? He took a closer look at Karishma’s manicured hand resting on the loveseat between them. She raised it as he watched and waggled her fingers at his mother. That was when it hit him.

  “You gave her your engagement ring?” He jumped to his feet in shock, bumping the table and rattling the tea service.

  “Sit down before you break something,” Maa said sharply.

  Rajan looked pointedly away from his mother and instead concentrated his ire on Karishma. “What were you thinking, accepting a ring of that type from my mother? Should I congratulate the two of you?” That sarcasm slipped out before he could bite his tongue, and Karishma had the grace to blush, though her eyes narrowed combatively.

  “Not all of us are like you, Rajan,” his mother said stonily.

  His chest tightened and he gave in to the increasing urge to pace. How dare she bring that up in front of Karishma. Or at all. A quick look at Karishma revealed a puzzled expression. So she didn’t know about the past. Rajan guessed he should thank his mother for not completely losing her mind and airing all of their dirty laundry in front of their guest.

  That was unlikely to continue, though, if she remained here. “Karishma, would you mind excusing us for just a moment?”

  She glanced at his mother, as if for confirmation. Maa nodded once and Karishma rose then walked around the side of the seating area where he was currently standing. “What the hell is going on?” she whispered furiously to him. “I don’t like being made a fool of. We’ll be talking about this later.” She tipped her chin up and quickly exited the room.

  Not knowing how much time they would have and needing to get to the bottom of this, he walked back over and knelt right in front of his mother.

  “Maa, what are you doing?”

  “What’s good for you, as always.” She met his gaze calmly.

  “Why did you give your ring to Karishma? How did something like that even happen?”

  “Well…” She sniffed, looking down at her bare hand with its shrivelled looking fingers.

  “It doesn’t fit me anymore, and—”

  “Maa,” he warned, sensing that
she was prevaricating. “Is this why there are sudden rumours about an engagement? What have you been up to?”

  “The ring would have eventually been hers anyway, when you marry. I sent it to her as a gift…from you.”

  “What do you mean, when we marry? And you said it was from me? What the hell?”

  She dropped the act. “All right, Rajan. You don’t need to play the injured party with me. Not after what you did last night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean being caught with him.”

  Rajan sat back on his heels. There was only one person she could be referring to with that kind of venom in her voice. “You mean Ajay.”

  “Don’t speak that man’s name in my house.”

  He sighed. “We just had tea and caught up.”

  “That’s not all it looked like to me. You were holding hands. And everyone knows what a deviant he is. He flaunts it. Those sort of people have no shame.”

  He swallowed around the constriction in his throat, from fear or anger he didn’t know.

  “You can’t say things like that. Those people are just like everyone else. They just want to live their lives and love who they want.”

  “It’s perverse, and I will not have you ruin your reputation by associating with him.”

  He tried another tactic. “He’s as widely known as I am, and well respected. That only increases my exposure in the media to be seen with him.”

  She gave a bitter laugh. “Well, it was that sort of exposure that got you to commit to your career in the first place, so I suppose I should thank him for that.” Her tone suggested she would do no such thing.

  He knew he wouldn’t get anywhere discussing Ajay with her, so he changed the topic back to the ring. “Maa, you can’t force me into an engagement with Karishma. You know that, right?”

  “Raji, I’m dying,” she said bluntly. He began to protest, emotion welling in him at the turn of the conversation. She cut him off. “I know I am, and before I go, I want to know that your future is assured. And the best thing you can do at this point is to marry someone like her. That’s the mistake I made, marrying a nobody like him, outside the industry. He ruined my reputation and tarnished my image. You need to align yourself with someone who can be seen with you and keep you beloved by the media, and moreover, in their sights. To be seen as boring, to be ignored, is the death-knell for a career.”