New York Romance 3

Breathe.

Concentrate on a point in front of you and breathe.
Yoga really doesn't help in circumstances when the only point to stare at in front of you is a button on Troy's shirt.
My hands and feet had gone cold from that little act of dare devilry.
Seconds passed before I started trembling.

"Grace? Are you all right? I'll leave if you want. . . ." said he.

Troy walked up to Grace worriedly.

Jumping into your best friend's balcony on Halloween wearing a mask and jumping into a woman's balcony were obviously not the same thing.
And this he'd done just when he'd started to make progress.

His tension mounted as he saw her trembling like a leaf.

He gently held her by the shoulders and shook her a little, "Grace what's wrong. . . . . I was just fooling around. . . . ."

Fooling around.
HE WAS FOOLING AROUND? ! * # ¿ < ! > @

Grace's slender fingers curled into his shirt front as she shook him, or at least tried to, as her eyes spit fire," You dumb OAF! You think that was funny? Jumping off a terrace? What are you FIFTEEN? Are you STUPID OR ARE YOU STUPID? Do you realize that you could've been hurt, you could've broken something?"

Grace would have gone on and on and on, but she shut up when Troy pulled her close to him and said, "So it would bother you if something untoward happened to me?"

Grace punched him lightly and grumbled, "Don't you dare get cute with me!"

Troy let go of her as she started wriggling, "So how about some company for dinner?"

Grace taunted, "You ask now? AFTER you've invited yourself in?"

Troy followed her back into the apartment, "At least I asked."

He heard rather than saw her smile as she said, "Which is why you can stay."

The cheeseburger lay forgotten in the balcony, where it would be found by the cleaning lady the next day.

_______________________________________
"I had fun. We should do this more often. Be ready at 8 tomorrow. I'll pick you up."
And he was gone.
I couldn't help but wonder whether he had some repressed urge to impersonate superheroes by his sudden coming and going.
And how had I allowed him to take me to work the next day?
Oh right! He hadn't ASKED me, he'd TOLD me.
Monkey man.
Very very cute monkey man who makes all women want to turn into female monkeys.
Did I just think that?
Nah. That was my dumb twin . . . . . Lace.

Bloody hell.

I couldn't help but think of how his muscles had felt around me when he'd held me.
Snuggling into my comforter, I tried to dispel the thought from my mind, but I could still feel the band of steel spanning across my back.
Mmmm.

_______________________________________

Situationism.
Strange behaviors are often caused by circumstances in which one is placed.
So I can gladly place the blame for my current behavioral problems on situationism.
I was doing something I'd never done before.
I was obsessing about what to wear for work.
I finally decided to wear a peach sheath dress, that ended just above my knee and put on a short white silk jacket with it.
Not too dressy. Not too dowdy!

Leaving her hair open and slipping on her strappy whites, she'd just been gathering her files when the doorbell chimed through the house, sending her into chaos.

It’s unfair for one man to have so much . . . . . . manness.
Well to say the very least, his manliness was cutting off my oxygen supply.

Troy was having problems of his own when it came to breathing.
The figure hugging dress nearly merger with the white shot with pink kind of color of Grace's skin.
The first visual effect being- she's nude.
Not knowing what else to do to ease of his base urge, that was to kiss those rosy lips, he stalked in and picked up the files on the table, "Come on. We getting late."

Wow!
That’s a really nice greeting isn't it.
"Good morning to you too Troy. You're steadily losing points rather than redeeming yourself."

Ha. That sure got him, he looks a little stunned.

I was locking up and had my back turned to him.
I got a shock when I turned and found him standing right behind me, staring down with those inscruitable eyes of his.
He bent down and brushed my left cheek with his lips, filling my nose with the spicy scent of his aftershave and murmered, "Good morning."

Yup. Man was off his rocker.
Somebody save me.

"Any more excesses and you're going into negatives!"

That thankfully lightened the mood and they had a pleasant conversation about the car.
But it wasn't completely smooth sailing when she told him under what circumstances she got the car.
"You rotten little kid. You got the car because you told your Dad that some stupid character in a book got his fiance one?" exclaimed Troy, almost taking his eyes off the road in disbelief.
"Firstly, I didn't ask for it. I mentioned a part of a book and Dad gifted it to me. Secondly, its not a stupid book," threw back Grace, flipping through her files absently.
From there things went steadily downhill.
The car was suddenly filled by a buzzing sound.
Troy pulled over and pulled out his cell phone from his pocket.
The conversation was basically a lot of monosyllables.

Grace couldn't help but notice the tightening of his jaw muscles.
Was it her imagination or had the temperature in the car actually gone down several degrees.
When he finally pulled the car onto the road, she asked quietly, "Is everything alright?
Troy took a deep breath before he answered with slightest semblance of calm, "None of your bloody business."

He did not just say that to me.
"That's completely uncalled for Troy. I just asked a simple question."

"If you know what's good for you, you'll keep that trap of yours shut till we get to work, or you'll be courting physical injury, Grace Shelbourne." hissed Troy through barred teeth.

I kept shut as we pulled into the office building where he pulled into the parking rather recklessly.
The son of a b****

Troy was seething. He couldn't understand why Grace had sent out emails telling the staff to cancel the department meetings.
He was ready to dig his teeth into her right now, but his manager, Len Goldsmith had told him to wait till he had more information.
His blood boiled and anger towards the woman sitting next to him rose.
Boy could looks deceive.
Who'd have thought that she'd take her grudge so far out that she'd even try to disrupt his work.

He slammed the brakes as he pulled into the parking lot and barked a curt "Get out Grace."

He was so freaking me out.
So he had problems at work. Why was he going all grizzly on me?

Grace's temper rose to match his as she exited the car and then walked swiftly past him to the elevator, not waiting for him to arrive.

It was childish, but she felt smug that he'd have to wait for another elevator.

It was still early, and the office only had a few stragglers walking in with a morning swagger.

Grace put down her bags and scheduled her day, and then made her way to the coffee vendor.

She noticed that Troy was in his office, looking absolutely livid. The man he was talking too had his back turned to her and was gesticulating wildly as he spoke.
Good. A man as wild and unpleasant as him deserved all sorts of misery.

If the look on Troy's face was anything to go by, heads were going to roll.

Meredith and Paul, heads of Legal Affairs and Copyrights were standing by the decrepit machine as she walked up to them with a smile.

Meredith jerked her head in the general direction of the office and said, "Nasty temper that one. God knows why he's suddenly so interested in the company."
Paul nodded vigorously, "All these years we've been incharge of all procedures and now this young buck suddenly butts into everything."
Grace was shocked by the vehemence and bitterness in their words.
She silently filled her cup of coffee and walked back to her office to prepare for the conference.

I shouldn't be surprised should I? Given the stone faces I'd seen yesterday at the meeting, it was obvious that Troy was going to face a hell of a lot of opposition.
Maybe that's why he was so angry in the morning.
Nevertheless, doesn't give him the right to treat me or anyone like vermin.

Sighing, I tackled the newest assignments that we'd received, sipping the over sweetened coffee.
I looked up when I heard a knock on my door and saw Harry walk in.
"Since when did you start knocking Harry?" I asked wiggling my eyebrows at his somber face.

Taking a seat at the opposite end of the desk he groaned and said, "Troy's in a right mood you know. He won't speak to anyone at all. He's just holed in with his new manager whom he carts around everywhere."

I let out a sigh, "He's not winning people over like this you know. He has some great plans, but unless he works with the team. . . . . ."

I stopped as Harry nodded emphatically, "I heard what Meredith and Paul were saying. And they're not the only ones mind you."

"I wonder why they're suddenly acting this way. I mean it’s not like their powers or authority are being challenged or anything!" I questioned, still peturbed.

Happy threw up his hands dramatically and said, "They're not getting laid often enough sweety. And it’s showing. And YOU had better head off to that meeting with Springfield downtown. You look great by the way. But a little more color on the eyes would have helped."

Laughing, I tucked my papers into my bag, left a message for my secretary and headed out.

Right in front of me several meters away was Troy, coming right at me with that imperious, come hither look on his face.
Way different from the way he'd looked at me in the morning, as if I'd committed some kind of felony.

I was definitely not in the mood for a battle of wills right now.

With a maneuver that would've made those Romanian models proud, I hurried over the elevator and made my great escape just as Troy approached the lobby.
I'm pretty certain he has Multiple Personality Disorder.

Or Maniacal Disorder.

Or Schizophrenia.

Or. . . . . . .

No more time to ponder, my cabs here!

________________________________

"Are you trying to scorch the carpet off, Troy? I've been sitting here for the past fifteen minutes because you called me, and all you've done is strut," said Harry, as he appraised the angry man in front of him.

He finally sat down, running his hands through his hair and said, "We have a problem Harry."

Harry couldn't help but grin, "That is obvious."

Troy let out a shaky laugh of his own before he launched into speech," Len called me when I was on my way to work today. He said that Grace had sent out memos cancelling tomorrow's departmental meeting. I was obviously upset that she'd openly countermanded my orders. I didn't say anything then, because Len had advised we get a little more information before we decide on a course of action. . . . ."
Harry interrupted, "Troy, but Grace would never. . . . . ."
Troy held up his hand and continued, "You're right of course. The email had been sent from Grace's office account, but she hadn't sent it."

Harry gaped, "You mean someone tried to frame her?"

Troy leaned back, his face strained, "Yes. Grace had left work at 5 in front of us, and she definitely hadn't come back, and I can vouch for that because we had dinner together. The email was sent at 7 pm. last evening."

Harry, brow puckered, "There were lots of people who worked late yesterday. But how did he or she get her password?"

Troy's jaw hardened, "Its a she Harry, although she will have her accomplices. Len and I checked the security tapes. It was obviously a woman, but her face was covered with a black scarf, so there's no way of telling who she is."

Harry massaged his temples before he spoke, "First and foremost, we need to get a new, outsourced internet and software security. But covertly, so that whoever's behind this, doesn't get to know. Secondly, are you going to tell Grace?"
Harry's perceptive gaze roved over Troy's suddenly stiff and dejected form, "Troy? Is there something I should know?"

"Grace was with me in the morning when I got the call. I didn't tell her, but I was a complete bastard to her," said the man softly, as if afraid of hearing his own words.

Harry sighed, "Troy. Listen to me. A temper not only destroys your skin, it also affects your relationships. Grace is one of the very few people on the higher rungs who supports you. Hell she even praised your agenda after your behavior in the car. You cannot afford to lose these people Troy. I'm saying this at the risk of repeating myself."

Troy groaned, "The rest I can handle, but I feel so horrible about hurting Grace."

Harry smiled, as he studied his nails, "Ah. So it’s not so much about derailed employees. It’s about GRACE! Well. Tough luck. If you really want to get along with her, start begging now. She'll put on her tough bitch act for a while, but she's like Lindtt soft centers. She'll melt in the end. But do yourself a favor, don't hurt her. She may hide it well, but her pain runs deep under all that laughter."

_______________________________________

Exultant after a very successful meeting, Grace reentered the building to pick up her bag and a few files before she headed home.
She found an engraved invite on her desk.
Too tired and in a hurry to get home, she placed it in her bag and headed out, blowing a kiss to Harry through the glass doors where he was on the phone.

Grace stood on the pavement trying to hail a cab.
Zillions passed by, but as Murphy's Law would have it, they were all occupied.
She was considering taking the tube, when a warm hand touched her elbow.
She turned to see Troy standing there with a happy look on his face.

Definitely multiple personality.
Why was he smiling down at me?
He hated me a few short hours ago.
Why he hated me was as much a mystery as to why he suddenly decided to like me again.

I pulled away from him and concentrated on the road again, hoping he'd go away.

I know. I'm an optimist.

He wasn't going to go away.

"Grace, it’s getting late, let’s go." he said in that dark, honeyed voice of his.

If ignoring doesn't work then retaliation should.

Shouldn't it?

"Go where Troy? To the cemetery to bury me alive. Thank you but no."

Not working.

His hands closed onto mine and he said, "Grace, I know my behavior was way out of line. But please at least let me explain,"

I needed to brainstorm, tugging was proving to be a fruitless exercise, his hand didn't even seem to feel my futile struggles.

"Way out of line? Is that what you call it? I could actually use quite a few choice words about your behavior Troy. I do nothing and I still have to face a hole deluge of abuse from you. I'm not your punching bag Troy and right now I really don't want to talk to you."

Still not working.
He just stepped closer as if I hadn't made a speech about how much I wanted to him to leave me alone. It didn't help that his nearness messed up my ability to think.

Ugh.

"Please Grace. I was a complete bastard. I'm just asking for a chance to explain. You can swear at me, beat me up with your files and step on my toes with your spiky heels, but just hear me out."

Why God. Why did you have to make him so irresistible?

"Fine."

After this is over, I want to suffer from partial amnesia so I can forget I ever buckled under his persuasion so easily.

_____________________________________--
Troy simply couldn't believe his luck as he led Grace to the car and helped her in.
He'd been expecting an all out revolt and a few injuries.
But Harry had her pegged right.
She had a soft centre.
And that only made him feel worse that he'd trampled all over her just because he was upset about her apparent deception and all other kinds of stress.

As soon as the car started, Grace twisted in her seat and looked at Troy expectantly, "So spill."

With a deep breath, Troy repeated the morning's occurrences for the second time that day.
By the time he'd finished, Grace's anger had been replaced by shock and disgust at the foul play.

"That's such a lowly, scummy thing to do. But how'd they get my password. I worked so hard on making it tough. . . . . ."
Her words trailed off as Troy took her hand in her own and said in a very soft and dejected tone, "Grace, before we get into all of that, I want to apologize for my behavior. I was upset and all that, but I still shouldn't have roughed you up like that."

Oh dear God. I used to think only men in story books could sound so sad and be so honest.
I couldn't help forgive him.
I mean I'd already forgotten amidst my chagrin at the unknown idiots handiwork, but instead of taking advantage of that, he was still apologizing.

I squeezed his hand and said, "its okay Troy. Its situationism. But for future reference, try to hold it in you know. You can't go around dancing on hot coals simply because you're pissed off."

God. Was I making a mistake all over again by letting him in.

I'll cross the bridge when it comes.

He was still holding my hand!

______________________________________

Troy would've broken into song had he been a less inhibited person.
But he still felt as though he didn't deserve Grace's forgiveness.
He sure as hell wouldn't have been so understanding.

Her soft hand felt good against his own. He didn't feel like letting go, and was pleased to notice, that she wasn't trying to pull away from him.

They were nearing their apartment building when Troy suddenly said, "How about we have dinner somewhere?"

Grace felt like clapping her hands together.
God she felt stupid.
She was all fluttery as if she were a fifteen year old, who's crush had smiled at her.

"Sure. But I hope I'm not the dead meat you plan on consuming!" she quipped.

Troy's laughter filled the car, almost dispelling the tensions of the day, "Thanks for offering. But I think I'll pass. How about something less complex like Indian."

Grace nodded enthusiastically, "So where exactly are we going?"

Troy smiled, teasing, "Its a secret. It’s a home run affair, but the food's to die for."

They both hurried up to their respective apartments to shower and change into something less crushed.

I was doing it again.
Obsessing about clothes.
I finally decided to wear a black wool column dress with a plum colored silk belt. This finally gave me the chance to wear my new black Manolos that had a plum colored heel. Blowing a kiss into the mirror, I headed down to the lobby where Troy stood, looking delectable as ever in a pair of tan slacks and a beige sweater that emphasized his musculature.

An hour of ribbing later, we reached the stipulated place. It was a huge white mansion surrounded by lush green gardens. From a distance, it might look like a rich man's home, the only allusion to its being a restaurant was a beautiful gold signboard that read 'Taste of India'

I had long stopped visiting the so called Indian restaurants in the city except a select few you know. Most of their American clients insist that the food is altered to suit their taste. I mean that completely kills the food doesn't it. I exclusively depend on my friend Aliya for my Indian food.

If the exterior was impressive, the interior was breathtaking.
The walls were a pure white with a burnish gold line giving way to a rich teak paneling.
The air was lightly scented. It was a fresh, floral smell that went straight to one's head and cleared out all the cobwebs.
The tables matched the panels and had chairs with cream padding.
A gorgeous girl dressed in what I knew was an equally gorgeous silk saree led us over to our table.
Troy was obviously a regular because he was talking to the girl guite freely, "So how's the college coming along, Piya?
The girl rolled her eyes, "You know the drill. Study, party, study, avoid party. So I decided to skip a week and come home."
Troy turned to me and introduced us, "Grace, this is Piya Bannerji, the owner's daughter. She started at Harvard Medical this year. Piya, this is Grace. . . . . "
I blushed as Piya dimpled in my direction and said, "Thank God you finally have a girl friend. Mom can stop worrying about you know. Your mom came last week and added fuel to the fire by complaining how she desperately wanted grandchildren."
With that, she turned on her heel to resume her duties, leaving us to pursue or menu cards.
"I thought you said this was a home run thing, but this is bloody brilliant."I said.
Troy's smile, turned my brain to mush as he said, "It's run personally by Sheila Bannerji. Her husband is the famous surgeon, Parth Bannerji, a delightful man. She got sick of her job as a lawyer, so she quit and started this restaurant. They specialize in Bengali food, but their other stuff is just as good."

I smiled, there was something about the place that was comforting, "You know it looks as good as any upscale restaurant, but somehow, you get the feeling that this place is well loved. None of the snotty impersonal stuff. It's someplace you feel secure."

Maybe I'd spoken too much.
Troy was looking at me, with that pleasantly discomfiting look, as if he was searching for something deep within my soul.

Piya reappeared with a pad in her hand and trilled out in her musical voice, "So have you guys decided yet, or should I learn a few more passages from my textbook before I come back."

Grace laughed along with Troy as they both placed their orders which promised to be a veritable feast.
Piya warned before she left, "Mom's going to be out in a minute. I can't head her off."

I turned to face Troy curiously, "Why did she say it like it's a bad thing?"

Troy grinned as he ate a fried snack, "Sheila and my mom are excellent friends. So are my father and Parth. And right now, their concern is to get me married and your presence only server to increase speculation."

I dipped my own fry into a mustard dip and said, "But surely you've brought other girls here? This is just like what Aliya's mom makes."

"Who's Aliya?" he asked curiously.

"My roommate in Oxford. She's a Bengali too. IQ of 140, topped the national exams in India. Basically a genius, you didn't answer my question."

"I haven't really dated in the past 5 years. Too much work. Very few women who weren't pawing at my credit cards." said Troy dismissively, with a trace of regret.

_______________________________________

After an exquisite dinner, Troy helped Grace back into the car and asked, "By the way, how're you so well acquainted with everything Indian? I'd hoped to impress you with my in depth knowledge, but you steam rollered me. Sheila was thoroughly impressed."

Grace couldn't help but smile at the slight petulance in his voice, "I'm impressed anyway. And as far as my knowledge goes, I spent a summer and a winter there travelling."

Troy looked rueful as he started up the car, "I've only been to Delhi, Kolkata and Mumbai. It used to kill me to pass by the landmarks and monuments, just wishing I could get off the car and soak in the throbbing energy of the country, but too much work."

Something about the way he said it, made me want to reach out and hug him, "Maybe you should slow down a little."

He smiled that smile again and said, "Yeah, now that the transfer from dad to me's over, things should settle down. But what can a man do when he has to attend a welcoming party in his honor on a weekend."

"THAT was the engraved invite said didn't it? You poor overworked, soul. You'll be up on your twinkle toes all night!"
I know it was cruel, but I couldn't help but tease.

And its not as if he minded, he was smiling too!

And I was the one who needed pity. My heart was cantering.
The smell of his cologne had been teasing my nose all evening, and it was as potent as cyanide in the close confines of the car.

We had to pass by the office building to get to our side of the city.
As we neared the building, I noticed a light in my office.

"Troy stop the car!"

Shocked by my sudden demand, Troy stopped the car, accompanied by the sound of protesting brakes as he yelled, "What's wrong?"

I was almost out of the car by the time it came to a standstill, "There's a light in my office. Its past 12. There's someone in there."

I rushed towards the building, Troy keeping pace easily.

The guard recognized Troy and let up in without hassle, and followed us, as Troy yelled an explanation.

By the time we'd reached my office, the floor was dark.
My office too was dark.

"Grace are you sure you saw a light?"Asked Troy uncertainly.

"Yes. My room's the only one with a dish for satellite communication," was all I could whisper back as we made our way closer to my office.

The door was unlocked, the computer screen was on, the janitor lay unconscious on the floor, an angry welt covering his forehead.