Chapter 20

What is going on?

Where am I? My head feels heavy as my eyes flutter open. I squint at the bright light hitting my eyes.

For a brief minute I cannot comprehend where I am, till it all comes rushing back to me. The picnic, my lost phone, my fall in the forest .. and Jeet!

I jerk up looking for him but am pushed back down. A nurse gives me an annoyed look. "Just lie back and relax," she states sternly. "The drip is almost over, then you can leave."

I look at my right hand hooked up to an IV drip. My left foot is bandaged but is not in a cast. I look around and see that I am in an examination room of a hospital.

"Oh good, you are awake," a kind looking middle aged doctor, exclaims as he enters in. Jeet who is following close behind, looks tense. Seeing me awake, his face visibly relaxes.

The doctor takes his small torch and flashes the light in my eyes. He checks my pulse. "Well young lady, I must say you were fortunate that you had no serious injuries in that fall."

"Really?" I question, most relieved to hear that.

"Oh yes!" he exclaims. "Your foot is sprained but thankfully it's not fractured, nor do you have any other major external or internal injuries," he continues as he scribbles notes on the medical record sheet. "Keep your foot elevated and don't put any pressure on it at least for the next two days, and you should be fine." He looks up from his writing to flash a smile at me.

"You have a minor concussion, and a few superficial bruises, which should heal in a week's time. I have prescribed some painkillers and antibiotics, take them and you should be as good as new by next week."

"Thank you doctor," I prop myself upright onto the pillows, as the nurse extracts the drip out of my arm and applies a band-aid on the puncture wound.

"Oh, no need to thank me, it's my job. You should thank your colleague here. It was a stroke of luck that he parked his vehicle where he did, so he did not go back with the rest of your colleagues and he found you," he points to Jeet, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Of course," I concur, turning towards Jeet, my eyes shining with gratitude. "I will be forever grateful for what he has done," I say earnestly.

Jeet appears embarrassed at my words and turns to the doctor, "So, can she leave now doctor?"

"Yes, she can," he answers him before addressing me. "The IV drip has some painkillers and sedatives which may make you drowsy. We did not find any serious effects of the concussion, but if you feel dizzy or nauseous or having a continued headache, you should go to a hospital immediately."

Jeet completes my discharge formalities and thanks to the generous employee benefits of my company, the hospital fees are taken care of by the medical insurance provided by DeGlobal Corporation.

"Dude, check out that car out there. Is that the one we were talking about last week?" A young teenage boy nudges his friend pointing to Jeet's car outside.

I am in the hospital lobby, waiting for Jeet to bring the car to the entrance, when the conversation between the boys catches my attention.

"No man! This seems to be the Range Rover SVAutobiography," He could have spoken in Greek for all the sense that made to me. All I knew was that Range Rovers were super expensive cars, that only the rich could afford.

The first teen whistles in appreciation, "You mean it's that top end Range Rover? I could buy four decent sized apartments in the price of that car."

"True, but that is one sweet set of wheels, man! I hope I am able to own a car like that one day," his friend replies. They both look longingly at the matte grey automobile, as it rolls out to the hospital entrance. I catch a glimpse of their envious looks at me, as I hop on my crutches towards the car.

Jeet scurries out from the driver's seat, to open the door for me and provide support while I climb into the back seat which is already adjusted to keep my leg elevated. The passenger seat in front is pushed all the way down so that my leg can be fully stretched out.

Once again ensuring I am comfortable, Jeet launches the plane, sorry, vehicle and heads back to the city. As he concentrates on driving using the car's GPS, I lie back in comfortable silence, taking the opportunity to think.

Like, who is this guy?

He dresses like a poor nerd, tries to stay invisible, but drives one of the most expensive cars in India. Another piece of Jeet puzzle.

So, what I have figured out from what I have seen of him, is that Jeet is supposedly rich, drives a super expensive car, uses the latest gadgets available in the market, is way smarter than he shows, has good connections with the top management of my company. Yet he prefers to dress as a simpleton, stay invisible and work at the lowest level. It doesn't make sense. Why is he behaving this way? What is his motive? He doesn't seem to be a malicious or deceptive sort of guy, so why the double persona? It's almost like he's working undercover. But why would someone like Jeet do that?

"Does anyone know about your accident?" Jeet's question pulls me out of my contemplation.

"Uh, no. I lost my phone at the picnic. I went back to search for it when I slipped and fell." I recount the incident to him.

"You can use my phone to call your family, they must be terribly worried," he looks at me from the rearview mirror.

"No one to call," I shrug.

Jeet's eyebrows raise questioningly. "Parents, siblings?" he probes.

"No siblings. My parents passed away over six years ago in an accident," I explain.

"I am very sorry to hear that. What about your husband? Don't you want to inform him?" he adds.

I look down into my lap, unable to meet his gaze, "It's not necessary. He's not here anyways," well it's not entirely a lie.

Jeet opens his mouth to speak, but then changes his mind and shuts it. He doesn't reply, and when I look back up, I see his brows furrowed and his face set in a grim expression. We ride in complete silence for the next few kilometers and I find the silence getting awkward.

"So, how do you find working at DeGlobal?" I finally break the uneasy silence. He gives a quick, stern glance at me through the mirror before concentrating on the road ahead. "It's good. The company has some excellent staff." I nod in agreement.

"Tell me, what is your experience of Nivedita as a boss?" Now it's his turn to question. I look out the window pondering over the question before turning back to answer, "I haven't worked anywhere else before this, so I really don't have any experience of how managers are supposed to behave, but I feel she could have been a lot more supportive of her subordinates."

"Hmm, anything else?" he prods. "Well you know what happened the other day in XMR, I wish she would give credit where it is due, it would encourage us to work more diligently, I guess." I add after some more thought.

Jeet nods his head in a swaying motion, as if my words mirror his thoughts. "Are you being assigned to our department?" I vocalize the thought that has crossed my mind. His eyes lock with mine in the mirror. "Do you want me to be assigned to your department?" his voice has dropped an octave lower.

At his question, I feel heat rising in my face. Is that what I want? To be near Jeet everyday? The idea does not seem offensive, in fact it sounds downright appealing. There is certainly an attraction that I feel towards him, right from the first day I crashed into him.

But does he want to be near me? Seeing his aloof attitude towards me these last few weeks, I think he considers me, no more than a bearable colleague.

Before I can answer, Jeet interjects, "No, I am not going to be in your department." Well that confirms it. Jeet is definitely not interested in me other than a colleague. It should make no difference to me, but then why does it feel like my heart just dropped from a height and cracked into a thousand pieces?

I look at my watch to hide the hurt in my eyes. Its way past midnight. Jeez! Jeet stayed up with me all this time. I am horrified and at the same time thrilled that he did this for me.

"Damn! It's very late. I am so sorry, I kept you till this late hour. I hope you have informed your folks at home." Jeet waves his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I have informed at home. Besides they are used to me coming home at odd hours."

I grab the opportunity to pry a little about Jeet's life. "Doesn't it bother your wife?"

"Who said I was married?"

I flush with embarrassment. "umm .. no one.. I just assumed that, you know, someone like you can't be single." I am rambling.

"What do you mean by someone like me?"

Oh gosh! I mentally whack myself. Me and my big mouth. I should have just shut up.

"I.. I.. mean that you seem to be of a marriageable age, and.. and.." Shut up Tarana, before you tell him how you find him irresistible and make a bigger fool of yourself.

I sigh, "I apologise. I did not mean to get personal." I look down at my hands clenched tightly in my lap.

"It's okay. To set the record straight, I am not married. No wife or any kids for that matter." I look into the mirror. Jeet is giving me a cheeky lopsided smirk, his deep dimples dancing in his bearded cheek, his stunning caramel eyes flashing with mischief.

Those dimples should be made illegal! That smile will be the death of me someday. Heat curls up from the tips of my toes slowly up to my face. I am not sure if Jeet can see the smoke emanating out of my cheeks.

I can't help but smile back, his infectious grin catching on. Our eyes lock once more in the mirror and I am captivated by those hypnotic eyes. The light from the screen and buttons on the dashboard, throw a dim glow inside the cabin, slow jazz music playing on the music system adds to the intimate ambiance. The air inside the car feels unexpectedly warm, even with the air conditioning on. My breath seems to be stuck in my throat. The caramel eyes have once more taken on a darker, deeper color, staring so intensely at me that he may just be able to look right into my soul.

His eyes travel from my eyes, down to my lips and suddenly all air is sucked out of me. My mouth and lips feel dry and I nervously bite my lower lip. The action seems to break the trance. Jeet blinks rapidly, breaking our eye contact, his mouth pursing into a scowl.

"Goddamit!" Jeets swears, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, his eyes staring angrily ahead at the road. I am too flustered and flushed to speak, trying to get my breathing under control.

We are back to awkward silence again. Thankfully we are nearing my house and I should be home soon, away from Jeet - away from his bewitching presence.

I look out the window once more and notice the roads are eerily empty, which is weird. In Mumbai city, the roads are never, ever completely this deserted even in the middle of the night. Jeet has also noticed the same.

As the car turns from the highway towards Bandra, we see a massive police barricade with a large troop of policemen in combat gear. When we near the barricade, a cop signals us to pull over and checks our vehicle.

We look at each other, the same thought running in our minds.

What is going on?