The Last Love Letter

Chapter 11

With just one week remaining for the end of her exhibition, Subah turned to the Internet and googled companies that could help her reach more people. After an hour of searching on a day when hardly anyone came to visit her exhibition, she found a company that responded to her query in less than ten minutes. She quickly set up a meeting on that same day, timed to coincide with her lunch break, and promised herself to return as soon as she could. To deal with the payment issues, she spoke to her credit card company, and since she had never been late with a payment, they increased her credit limit by another lakh. So she had funds now, sufficient to cover the groceries, the ad expenses if she was satisfied with what this company offered, and the rent. In short, she now had ammunition to survive another month.

The agency was called Johnnie Sparks, and the man who replied to her email signed his message with that name. The meeting was set for a café in Khan Market, easy for her to reach and quickly get back.

Fifteen minutes before the scheduled time, Subah departed from her exhibition after instructing her assistant and hailed an autorickshaw. Her car was in the basement of the Habitat Centre, and since finding a parking spot at Khan Market during lunch hour was tough, the autorickshaw was the most convenient option.

She was there at 1 on the dot. But there was no sign of the person she was expected to meet. Mr Sparks was probably still on his way. She ordered coffee and a cheese sandwich.

Perhaps it was time to return to an idea she’d recently had for herself. An hour of doing nothing except drinking coffee and thinking about life is a great investment in understanding yourself.

After she had finished her sandwich and the coffee and thought a lot about herself, the exhibition and the other initiatives she had in mind to help women, she looked at her watch. It was 1.30.

'Are you Miss Subah?’

‘You?’

The man who stood before her with his hand extended was the same man she had seen a few days ago at her exhibition. The man who had visited with his daughter and tried to get too pally with her. The creep who’d tried to introduce himself and had even touched her arm. In other words, the kind of guy Subah wanted to avoid at all cost.

The man standing before her might not have any manners, but she did. In any case, this was a public place, she reminded herself, and she had nothing to worry about. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘I’m Johnnie Sparks. I’m here to meet you.’

‘What?’

He took a seat opposite her. ‘Wait a minute, we met the other day, didn’t we? When my daughter entered your exhibition and I followed her in.’

This was a setup, thought Subah. It had to be. First the man tried his tricks in person; then, after not succeeding, he stalked her and arranged a meeting without her having any clue. And now he was pretending that he had only just now recognized her.

It was best to throw him off guard. ‘Are you stalking me?’
‘Stalking? Look…no, why should I? You were the one who sent an email to my company and arranged a meeting—and here I am.’

‘No, I smell something fishy here, mister. Tell me what you want.’
‘I want to discuss what you would like my company to do.’
There was silence for a full minute, after which a waiter appeared at their table.

Subah gave it some thought as he ordered coffee. Even though the chance was slim, what if this man was speaking the truth? Her practical side murmured: There’s no harm in giving it a shot.

Subah desperately needed help, so she agreed with that voice for the moment.

He was waiting for her to begin, elbows on the table, calm, composed and formal-looking.
‘Okay, the newspapers have not printed much information about my exhibition, so people don’t know it is on, and I’m not being able to sell my paintings.’

‘My company can promote you. Is that what you want?’

‘People already know about me. I want them to know that I’m exhibiting my works so they can come and take a look and, if they like something, buy it. That way, I make some money and this exercise is worth it. Do you get me?’

Akash looked at the woman closely. The first time he had met her, she had humiliated him without any reason, and this time, she was being arrogant and bossy. But he was here for a job, so he decided to play it cool. ‘Sure, I can do that for you. May I know your budget and when you want me to start?’

‘I have no idea how much you charge, but I can spare around '25,000… Is that too little?’

‘No, it’s good.’

‘Can we start immediately?’

‘Why not?’

They discussed Subah and her works after that. Akash listened to her with complete attention and was swayed a couple of times by the intensity of her emotions when she described her art to him. Also, he learnt a great deal about her. In between, while she visited the restroom, he googled her and read her Wikipedia page and recent reviews. This was a proud, talented woman.

Akash had not met many women who were so sure of themselves. That was impressive, and as a supporter of equal rights for men and women, he admired Subah for it. Additionally, she was beautiful. He noticed that her gaze was determined, even though her face was delicate. She walked gracefully, and for some reason, he now realized, he seemed to like her. Was it due to the fact that she was so confident or was it because he was attracted to her? Thanks to the way she had treated him at her exhibition, the latter was not possible. So it had to be the former, he concluded quickly.
But his problem lay elsewhere. He wasn’t sure if he could take up this job at all. There was still Mr Raichand to consider.

James had come to his apartment the very next day after their lunch party, and they had set up a website.

‘What would you like to call your company?’

‘No idea.’

‘Come on, think of a name.’
Akash had looked around, and his eyes had fallen on the Johnnie Walker whisky he was drinking. He had looked at the bookshelf and seen the numerous novels that Nisha used to read. Her favourite was Nicholas Sparks. So right then and there, he had decided to combine his current passion with his late wife’s passion, and the company became Johnnie Sparks.

‘That’s a cool name. It will work for the moment.’

Luckily, the domain name had been available, and they immediately bought it for ten years. Both had looked at the URL with equal fondness. As James had been explaining to him how the website would work, they had seen a message pop up. And since it was his very first lead, Akash had decided to take it on for the sake of experience.

But he realized now that the woman before him needed his help, or she could be in real trouble.

It was time to speak with Mr Raichand.

‘All right,’ he told Subah after they had finished their discussion, ‘I just need to talk to my partner. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

With that, Akash left Subah, stepped outside in the smoker’s area and called Mr Raichand. The phone call was over in less than two minutes. Not only did Mr Raichand say yes, he also said that while Akash tried this experiment, his paid leave would continue. He was a gem of a boss, and Akash wondered how such nice people still existed in the world when the television and newspapers made everyone believe otherwise. Perhaps it was their agenda to convince people that everything was in chaos. But to what purpose? He brushed this thought aside and went back inside.