Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
•where we talk fancy, but sensibility is out of the question•
I don't know for how long we had been silent, but it seemed like neither of us wanted to break it. Being stranded on the side of a highway was not exactly what I had in my mind when I had spontaneously grabbed the keys to Tanya's Mini Cooper Convertible, promising her a memorable drive.
Evidently, I was keeping my promise. Surely this was going to be memorable. We had pulled over half an hour ago, the bonnet of the car had been lifted up for the past twenty minutes, and I stood in front of it, clueless about what exactly I was supposed to be doing to bring it back to life. Running an architectural firm did not exactly provide me with an expertise on cars. I rubbed the top of the engine fins, tracing the wires I could find. The grease blackened my fingers, making me pull back and sigh. The sun was going down and dusk was settling in. I peeked at the backseat from the side of the bonnet. With her feet propped above the headrest of the passenger seat, Tanya was observing me with a passive look on her face. "You have no idea about how to fix the engine, do you?"
I had known Tanya Singhal since the day she had been single- no pun intended. Ravish Mathur, star of a recent Netflix movie for whom I had designed a beach villa, had introduced his curvy co-actress to me as his girlfriend at his film's success party seven months ago, but in the drunken madness of the party, he had kissed her stand-in instead. Needless to say, they did not work out.
And explaining how Tanya and I did, is something beyond my own understanding. It was this same passive aggressive look that she was giving me at this moment that I couldn't shake off my mind when I had offered her to kiss me instead, to get back at Ravish. It gave me chills and it made my heart thump louder.
Because even though she had given me that look, she did end up doing more than simply kissing me.
Not wanting to appear dumb in front of her, I shook my head, getting back to work. "I know what I'm doing, trust me on this."
The only response I got was the thump of closing of the car door, and a moment later, she was standing beside me. "Still don't need my help?"
"Are you underestimating me Tanya Singhal?" If she was, I had scored myself a really smart fiancé.
Grabbing the tool kit from my hand, she shrugged. "No, I am judging you. Engine sirf overheat hua hai, even I could tell that."
"That's because tumne ye sab padha hai," I shifted towards her right, letting her henna-tattooed palm take over the inspection. "And mai mechanic nahi hoon."
