After reaching the office on Monday, I headed straight to Richard's cabin, saying I needed to talk about something important.

“I'm so sorry to hear that,” Richard emphasized after I told about my condition. “So you just need an accomplice. Irfan was dropping you home from the office if I'm correct.”

“Yes, he was, but his home is entirely opposite to mine. He has to travel ten miles extra to drop me. I don't wish to cause him trouble so I declined his help afterwards.” I reasoned, and it was true. He only dropped me home to see Kylie after all.

“I see, I see.” Richard nodded in understanding. “Well, in that case, our company can offer you cab services, though that would mean deduction from your monthly salary.”

“Sir, if possible, may I suggest a person from our team who can assist in dropping me home? His apartment is close to mine, you see.”

“Sure.”

~

I couldn't help but smile in victory as Vansh shot daggers at me while we walked together after office.

“What did you say again? You won't be able to do anything since we'll only meet in the office. Either way it's free food for me.” I imitated sounding like a gruff man. “You clearly underestimated me, boy.”

“How the hell did you convince Richard? He told me you had issues. What issues?” Vansh gestured with his hand.

I poked my fingers against one another with my head hung low. My voice was timid. “Please don't tell anyone but I have Enochlophobia. It's the fear of crowds.”

“For real?”

“Yes,” I answered, walking backwards. “It happened a long time ago when I got separated from my parents during a festive fair. They kept searching for me for two hours straight. Imagine a seven year old girl getting lost till ten at night. Ah, goosebumps!” I hugged myself.

“Sorry to hear. Good thing they found you though.” Vansh said and I smiled at the memory of me hugging my parents and crying bitterly. “But I bet you have no Enochlophobia. Besides, it's hardly crowded here.” I simply shot him a cheeky grin while he frowned. “Seriously, stop walking backwards.”

“Why? I like it.”

“Isn't it obvious? You're going to bump into something,” He said, his gaze darting away to our surroundings.

“It's fine. I'm used to it. As I was saying, I—” My words were cut off as my feet hit the edge of a pole. In an instant, his hands reached out to grip my arm before I could fall. We momentarily glanced at each other.

“See, didn't I tell you not to...” Vansh warned but stopped speaking as he noticed the corners of my mouth curled to a full blown smirk. He left his hold on me immediately.

“Holding hands is the first step, Baweja. I'll take this as a sign of progression,” I said, maliciously. I stared at his brownish arm that had a few veins popping out. Not bad. “My, my, your grip is strong. You must have practiced a variety of positions in the room.”

He stared at me in horror, “You didn't just say that.”

I cocked my head to one side, “What? I was talking about various yoga positions, silly.”

He let out a frustrating groan, “You psycho! Stop fucking with my mind.”

“Gee, thanks, atleast I'm fucking something. A huge progress. Wonder how huge it will get.”

His jaw dropped at that. I guess he decided not to speak any further so we continued to walk in silence. A minute later, I added. “Good going, Baweja. Keep fantasizing about me.”

With gritted teeth, Vansh raised a fist towards my direction, but then retracted his hand, mumbling, “Can't hit a woman, can't hit a woman...”

I tittered at that. He was funny although it was funnier how casually we were speaking now. Until that party, we never spoke anything beyond the mundane. It was entirely my doing though. Don't ask me why.

As we walked further, we came across a series of similar buildings painted in grey and dull red with black glass windows. Vansh spoke first. “Do you know which builders designed these sets of residential apartments?”

“Nope. No idea. They look good though.”

“Yup, they were designed by Dorchester Builds,” Vansh answered, tucking his hands in his pockets. “It's an old architectural company actually. They were known for their traditional European architecture but in recent years they have broadened their catalogue to modern and fusion. Their history goes way back...”

Henceforth, Vansh recited an interesting backstory about the development of Dorchester Builds and their extensive business. We even derailed from the path to explore more European structures built by them in the area. Although we were mindful not to waste much time and climbed onto the subway to head home. On the way, we talked about our respective Bachelors and debated on which course was harder. Before long, my destination arrived.

“That's my stop,” I pointed out to the digital board displaying the name of the upcoming station and got up from my seat. “Don't think I missed the subtle way you changed the topic. Since it was a sensible conversation I'll spare you this time. I got some valuable knowledge.”

He pressed his lips to a thin line, nodding along. Was that funny? “Valuable knowledge... Right. I'll spare you too, but don't think I'll babysit you every single day.”

“Keep dreaming, Baweja,” I winked. Soon the doors opened and I stepped out of it but not before blowing a mock flying kiss his way. Funnily, he pretended to catch it only to throw far away and wipe his hands off it. Funny.

*

The following week went by in a similar fashion. Nothing much took place in the office, except when I deliberately walked by Vansh's cubicle and whispered sweet nothings to his ear (while pretending to talk about work), irking him more. He smelled good though. Wonder what soap he used.

The poor lad did his best to avoid going home with me. He'd stay late by lazing in the lounge or canteen. Once he even left fifteen minutes earlier. Unfortunately for him, I bested him every time. I'd always be waiting for him at the exit. It was mind boggling to see someone go to great lengths to avoid me. Did I repel him that much? Slightly offensive, but amusing regardless.

“The amount of waiting I have to endure because of you,” I  complained, after he came out of the washroom late evening. I let out a yawn before continuing, “You really took your sweet time in there. Were you emptying your shit or sperm? Men, these days. They seriously need to filter their needs.”

“It's rather your mouth that needs a filter,” Vansh mumbled, casting a disgusting glance.

~

“What do you think you're doing?” Irfan asked when we were having lunch one day.

“But this pasta is so good. Why would you say that?” I asked, offended and gobbled another bite with my fork.

Irfan sighed. “I'm talking about Vansh. He told me about that stupid bet you made. What games are you playing here?”

“Gee, relax, uncle! It's just a harmless bet I proposed out of boredom,” I answered with a dismissive hand and paused to take another bite. “It will be over in a jiffy.”

“Well, tell that to him. He's gotten the impression you're really out to sleep with him.” Irfan said, tearing off the chicken meat with his teeth. I looked away, cringing.

“Let him think that way. It's interesting. What's your deal? Don't butt in between.”

He rolled his eyes. “I should let you know though. He's not like your Dave.”

“My Dave?” I repeated, my tone condensing. I stopped chewing. “Where did that come from?”

Irfan glanced at me like I was a fool. “I heard you slept with him or something. He boasted about getting lucky with you.”

“Getting lucky? Bullshit! I never slept with that jerk. Ugh, do these men behave the same in every country? Dave and I just kissed—”

“Hey, spare me from your dirty details. I just wanted to say Vansh isn't like that.” He cut me off, raising his hands in surrender.

The pasta didn't taste as good anymore. I lost my appetite, thanks to Irfan. I got up. “Gosh, you are so infuriating sometimes. I'm leaving.”

Things only got worse, the next day.

“Where's the construction field report of this week, Natasha?” Richard asked me for the second time while standing behind my desk.

“Wait a minute, sir. I'm searching. I finished the report yesterday so it should be in the folder,” I responded while frantically clicking on all the files in my computer but failed to find the desired Excel sheet. I even did a Windows search but no luck. How could this be?

“Ah, let it be. Just submit it tomorrow,” Richard said with a sigh after collecting everyone's hard printed files. “But don't delay your reports next time. I also have somebody to answer to, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes sir, sorry sir,” I apologized, dejected. I could have bloody sworn I completed my file and saved it on my PC. Then what on earth—

That's exactly when I noticed something across the room. Noticed a victorious smirk from none other than Vansh, his brown eyes twinkling. I shot him daggers but even that didn't deter his confident gaze away. Don't tell me he sneaked into my PC in the morning? I should have put on a password. Guess I underestimated him.

But then, Vansh underestimated me too.

An hour later, I went to Richie's office with a brand new file. Luckily I didn't delete the file from my personal laptop. Although I had to edit and update the data before printing it. “Sorry for the delay, but here's the report, sir.”

“Alright, good work.” Richard said, reading the file.

I headed straight to Vansh's cubicle who seemed to be doing his work diligently. I slapped his desk, clenching my jaw. “That was fuckin' low. Work wasn't included in the bet, you prick. When did you touch my PC? It's a breach of privacy.”

Vansh continued typing away with his keyboard, unfazed, “You mess with me, I mess with you. You don't mess with me, I don't mess with you. As simple as that.”

I tried to ask Vansh when he hacked into my PC but he remained indifferent. It was like he grew an extra pair of balls today. Eventually, he offered me a pendrive. “It contains your report along with some small files. I never deleted them. I just transferred it here. I planned to give you this at the end of the day, but you just had to work on it again and submit it today. Poor you.”

“Shut up!” I snatched the pendrive away. His lips twitched in response. As if telling he won this round. You just wait and see.

That was the first evening in the week when I didn't accompany Vansh home. I didn't feel like seeing him, Irfan, Dave or any of my office mates. Perhaps I should go and slap some common sense into Dave.

Vansh and I continued to duel against the death. I surprised him by accompanying him on the bus to our official on-site visit, the next day. I teased him throughout the visit, aggravating the hell out of him. Of course I focused on work and stayed out of his way when needed. Then, the following day, I was settling down on my cubicle when I happened to see a creepy dark thing crawl over the keyboard to where my hand was. My face went white as sheet. It was a stag beetle. A huge one.

What followed was a circus of hysteria. I shrieked at the top of my voice followed by the shriek of the other girls, followed by laughs from guys. The cleaner came to chase it away. Richard nursed his forehead, trying to calm everyone down. The office was a ruckus. What a wild start to a morning.

Initially, I stole a glance at Vansh who seemed to be laughing alongside the guys. Perhaps he wasn't the culprit this time. Perhaps this was an accident.

Half an hour later.

“Hope you liked my lovely gift this morning,” Vansh said, wriggling his brows while my eyes widened as he passed me by. I glared at him. “Yeah, I tend to be overly romantic sometimes. You're welcome!”

Later that evening.

“Whyyyee?!” Vansh exaggerated, almost on the verge of tears when I accompanied him to the subway after office. “Come onn! Be sick of me already.”

“Because I'm Natasha and I'm stubborn.” I answered with a flick of my hair. Suddenly he joined his palms in front of me in defeat.

“Arre maate, maaf karde menu!  Mere toh gaalti hogaya si. Muje chhod de akela. (Please madam, forgive this person. I've committed a grave mistake. Leave me alone).” He pleaded in Punjabi.

I snickered and squeezed his cheek, “Aw, come on, child! It's just a matter of five more days. Enjoy this while it lasts.”

~

Irfan and I weren't on friendly terms since that evening. He ended our silence by meeting me at the canteen one day. He invited me to tour around Boston this weekend. It was accompanied by a free lunch and an annoying Vansh. I said yes right away.

Things didn't go exactly as planned though. I arrived but Vansh made it abundantly clear he didn't want me around. He ranted about the ordeal he had to go through last week. I didn't care until a word ticked off my neurons.

“Hold your horses- Sexual harassment?” I emphasized. “You're meaning to say my innuendoes and mind games was sexual harassment? I never touched you inappropriately. God, you are even more dumber than I thought.”

“Okay, I exaggerated, but it doesn't deter away from the fact that you harassed me.”

“Wow, do you hear him, Irfan?” I exasperated before crinkling my nose in disgust. “Ew, forget about that silly game, I don't even feel like seeing your mugged face anymore.”

“Likewise!”

“Vansh? Natasha? Stop!” Irfan raised his voice, stopping us in our tracks. We turned to him, half- heartedly. “What are you two doing fighting like school kids? If you intend on leaving, then why invite me? I sacrificed my breakfast for you. You have no right to leave now.”

What Irfan did next was downright outrageous. He dragged Vansh's hand, walked to me, grabbed my hand and started moving, dragging us along like suitcases. We protested but the man paid no heed. We reluctantly gave up. Hence, we went to Mc Donald's for a quick bite.

“Slow down, bro! This is your third burger. You still have a whole day ahead of you.” Vansh reminded him but he simply shut him up.

“Let him be. Irfan behaves like that when he's late for food.” I said, without looking at either of them.

“I hope he doesn't burden his future wife. The way he gobbles... she would certainly divorce him the next day.” Vansh said, cringing.

“I know I would.”

Somehow the conversation kept rolling with Vansh and I dissing Irfan, almost forgetting about our enmity earlier. The rest was forgotten when the three of us visited- 'The Freedom Trail.' The place was a time machine to the medieval past. The tensed atmosphere dissipated as we roamed the old state houses, museum and park. It was nice.

Later on, we stopped by a mall nearby. On our way to the food court, I noticed a haunted house. I suggested the boys to try it out.

“Sure!”

“Sure...”

Somehow Irfan's 'sure' didn't sound so sure. Regardless, we proceeded to buy the tickets for the same.

Just as we took a few steps into the pitch darkness inside the entrance, a couple of fake bats appeared out of nowhere. The sound of their flapping wings echoed through the hollowed hallway. Vansh and I gasped in surprise as opposed to Irfan who jumped scared and jumped onto Vansh's arm.

“Oi, get away from me! You're too close.”

“Chillax pussy, it's just a bat.”

Another time. “I-I was just scared that I'll f-fall. That's all.”

I finally turned to Irfan even though he couldn't see me entirely. “Irfan, are you afraid of—”

“Hiiihahahahahahaa~!!!”

It was a sinister laugh of a white haired woman in an all white dress. She disappeared a few seconds later. Vansh and I were startled this time but screamed when Irfan screamed. He grabbed onto us like we were his lifeboat, his shoulders shaking. And then, something hideous happened.

“Wh- wha- what happened? Why are you two laughing like that?” Irfan stammered, his voice trembling as he moved away from us. At that, both of us laughed even louder in a sinister way. “It's not funny guys! Are you...?”

A small ray of white light cast upon us, leaving a pattern of shadows in its wake. Vansh and I turned to Irfan with our eyes and teeth white. All color drained from Irfan's face, followed by the echoing laughter of a ghost lady, followed by an ear piercing scream that was even higher than all sinister laughs combined. It was lovely.

The attendant looked at us baffled when the three of us stepped out a few minutes later. Irfan looked drained while Vansh and I looked like we were on our way to vomit.

Vomit our laughter away.

“Oh my fucking God! That was the single, most best, ghost ride I had in my fucked up life,” I spoke, laughing my wits out.

“Ghost ride? More like the 'aahhh' ride.” Vansh chided along.

“You are making it sound like an orgasmic scream.”

“Shut up, you dirty minded maniac!”

We turned our heads to Irfan whose face screamed red enough to be blown like a pressure cooker. We didn't care. Instead, I faked a frail voice. “Wh- wha- what happened?”

“Ki- Ki- Kiran!” Vansh shuttered in a trademark Shahrukh Khan style which had us crouching on the floor, guffawing. We caught attention from the onlookers but were too busy clutching our stomachs.

“St- stop. Stomach paining,” I barely made out the words in my half panted state and wiped my tears. Eventually I stood up and looked around. “Where's Irfan?”

“I guess we got too busy laughing. Although we both know where he'd be right now.” he said, standing up as well and shared a knowing smile.

On our way to the food court, Vansh reminisced about his visit to a haunted house in Disneyland, Paris. “This puny haunted show is nothing compared to the huge one I saw there years ago. The effects were top-notch. Ahana and I were genuinely afraid at that time.”

“Ahana?”

“Me and my girlfriend. Er— ex-girlfriend. Kinda.”

“So you and your ex-girlfriend spent your pre- honeymoon in Paris?”

A smile escaped his lips. “Yeah, pre- honeymoon has a nice ring to it. I had the time of my life there.”

I pouted. “Lucky you! You've been to different places abroad while I stepped out of India for the first time ever. Though I'm loving Boston so far.”

We kept on talking until we found Irfan standing behind a KFC counter as expected. We tried to communicate but he wouldn't acknowledge our presence. And Vansh wouldn't stop being an insensitive prick.

“Yaar Irfan, teri Ma kaha hai? I thought she would have gotten your SOS message when you said- Mummmyyyy!”

“Stop it, Baweja! Can't you see, he's butthurt,” I said, suppressing a laugh while covering my mouth 

“Ah, look at you two getting along like long, lost friends. Didn't you mention her presence was torture?” Irfan commented, silencing us. “Now let me have my lunch in peace. My mouth is dry from all that touring.”

“You mean screaming— alright, let's have lunch.” I retorted when Irfan squinted his killer eyes at me.

Unsurprisingly, Irfan's mood lightened after he gobbled down a truckload of food. In the midst of our conversation, the topic of my little seduction bet came up and I revealed how it wasn't anything special. 

“Really? You weren't serious about seducing me?” Vansh asked.

“Not at all. I was simply floored by your reactions. I came up with the bet right on the spot, just to see how you'd react. And boy, did it turn out good—no, even better than I expected. I still laugh at the fake shirt strip scene, you know.”

Vansh still seemed puzzled. “No way! What about those sexist statements you made about men being dickheads?”

I cast him a sympathetic look. “That was all to provoke you, darling. Granted many men act like dickheads, but even they have their preferences. Obviously not every man will want me... Aw, don't tell me you were looking forward to some bang-bang. Sorry, but you're not my type.”

“So all this time you were just playing with me cause you were bored?”

“Uh-huh...” I said, slightly hesitant. The way he put it made me sound like a villain though.

I guess Vansh antagonized me in his head since he didn't as much as look my way, forget talking. Did I overdid it perhaps?

~

“Look, I bought your favorite chicken nuggets. Atleast talk to me now,” I pleaded, placing a plate of chicken nuggets before an ignorant Vansh. It's been three days since he last talked to me and let's say it was frustrating. “Fuck, you're such a—”

“Natasha, language. Remember what I said,” Irfan reminded me like a child.

I rolled my eyes. “Finee! Listen, I'm genuinely sorry for bruising your sentiments... ego...? Well, whatever wrong I did to you, I'm sorry.”

When the jackass continued to ignore me, I got up. “I did as you told me, Irfan. I said sorry two fucking times. Not my problem if he has an attitude ten times his dick.” 

“Alright, I'll accept your apology,” Vansh finally spoke with a piece of chicken held by the fork. “On one condition- you'll have to buy me lunch for a week.”

“A week?”

“What? You should be grateful I kept it for one week, otherwise, I would have abided by the bet and told you to buy me lunch everyday.”

“You think you won? I bested you many times, okay. Just suck it up and eat what I gave you! The treat's only valid for today.” I ordered then turned to Irfan. “And you, bring me chickpea fritters.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

And just like that, the three of us settled down for a lunch on a sunny afternoon. At this point, I wondered if these two were really my colleagues or more. Was it okay to befriend them? The feeling was mutual. Vansh raised a toast with our drinks while Irfan stated how this looked like the start of a beautiful friendship. Both Vansh and I cringed at that. Irfan took it further by taking a photo and tagged us on Instagram with the same cheesy caption. In the end, I couldn't help but smile.

It looked like I was finally settling down in Boston.

Hope this chapter was fun and funny (see, that rhymed 😂). What do you think about Vansh so far? Don't forget to comment your thoughts.