Five-Thirty AM - V

Being a full-time columnist with India Digest - one of India’s leading magazines known for its solid, serious reading, covering everything from politics to economics to sports to science to entertainment - had its perks. Mitul had realized that a long time ago. It gave her the freedom to do what she wanted to do i.e. write; it did require her to do research, a lot of research, which she loved, as she had a natural curiosity about all things; and it also let her have the time to write the mushy romances that she loved to read in her spare time. Conveniently, these same mushy romances generated enough money to keep her afloat in a style to which she was accustomed. Yes, she was a published writer of several mushy romances by a leading publication.

It was in this quest for romance that she had first caught sight of Noel James, strutting across, well actually, more like loping across her television screen for the first time.

She’d never been addicted to TV serials, but there was something addictive about the angst-ridden character he’d portrayed - a man torn between his love for his soulmate and the duties of a husband who would not hurt nor disrespect his wife. The subtle nuances and inflections that he’d added to the role had enthralled her. It was only later that she’d realized that he was some kind of cult demi-god amongst his female fans! She’d followed his career then, only to realize that he’d already worked in one serial and a movie before the one that she’d seen. Soon, he exploded on the big screen in his first major lead role. At that point, she’d decided she wanted to know more about this person, who’d come out of nowhere, garnered an enviable world-wide fan-following, won accolades for his talent, all in the space of less than five years. Who was Noel James? And what made him a star? What did he have that others didn’t?

She’d approached Joyce with the idea of either a series of articles on him or a biography. Surprisingly, Joyce had preferred the idea of a biography. They’d reached out to him and that’s how she’d ended up, driving along Highway 410 with him in the passenger seat of her car, headed for a week in cottage country, Ontario. How bizarre!

The sun was behind them as they headed North, leaving the outskirts of Toronto and driving through a countryside that became more and more isolated and rugged. The flat plains housing the wind farms gave way to a rolling countryside and the roads she took wound through woods and fields, and over streams and valleys. He sat quietly beside her taking it all in, her camera on his lap as once in a while, he clicked a picture of something he liked. The panoramic sun roof let in the sunlight, but she hadn’t opened it out fully to let in the wind. Her hair barely stirred in the air-conditioned confines of the car. A ray of sunlight glinted on her hair. He raised the camera and clicked her side profile, highlighted by the sun, the tinted window behind her providing a perfect back drop.

‘Hey,’ she admonished, although not without a smile. ‘No taking pictures of me.’

‘Couldn’t help it. You did look picture perfect there,’ he replied tongue-in-cheek.

‘Ah! ha ha ha,’ she said.

They’d been driving for about three hours when she finally pulled into a gas station in a rural area, that seemed to have only about a dozen houses in sight.

‘We need gas, and I need to use the restroom,’ she said.

‘Gas?’ he looked puzzled.

‘Petrol,’ she said. ‘We call it gas here.’ Then she noticed his twinkling eyes, and went, ‘ah! You were pulling my leg.’

He shrugged and grinned. ‘Go ahead, I’ll fill the petrol,’ he said.

She came out of the restroom to find him leaning against the side of the car, looking around him.

‘It’s beautiful out here,’ he said, noticing her out of the corner of his eyes.

She smiled, ‘yeah. I love coming up here, that’s why.’

‘How much longer?’ he asked.

‘About another two, two and a half hours,’ she replied. He put his hand on the driver’s door.
‘Let me drive,’ a faint question in his tone.

She looked a long way up to his face and said, ‘enjoy the view, Noel. I love driving and I’m used to long drives. It doesn’t bother me.’

‘But you must be tired.’

She shook her head, no. ‘I’m not. Believe me. I’ve driven over ten hours non-stop and solo, and not been tired at the end of it. You enjoy the scenery. It’s your first time here. Talk to me. Take pictures,’ she waved her arm, emphasizing her point. ‘Maybe on the way back, I’ll let you drive,’ she smiled.

He nodded his head, knowing she was not going to give in and walked around to the passenger side. As they continued on their drive, his phone rang and he answered it, keeping his voice low so as not to distract her.

‘Hello? ... Hi!’

She swallowed at that husky ‘hi’. There was something so very sexy about it, and he didn’t even seem to realize it! No matter how many times she heard it, it always reminded her of the first time they’d talked. She always felt so foolish that she hadn’t been able to string one coherent thought together to talk to him then. He’d never referred to it, though, for which she was vaguely thankful!

Noel was surprised to see the number on the call. It was his father, who rarely called him.

‘Yes, Dad, I’m fine,’ he replied in answer to his question.

‘Dev told us you’re in Canada. Are you shooting there?’

‘Next week. I’m going to New Foundland. Right now, I’m on vacation in ... ‘ he looked across at Mitul for help.

‘Ontario,’ she whispered loudly, ‘Cottage Country.’

‘Ontario, heading towards cottage country.’

‘What are you doing there?’ his father was surprised.

‘You know I was thinking about that biography, Dad. The person who’s writing it is taking me there.’ His sentence was carefully crafted to leave out the sex of the author, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Mitul.

She raised her left eyebrow, while keeping her eyes on the road, trying not to pay attention to the one-sided conversation taking place not two feet away from her. Especially when that said conversation was in a voice that felt like warm chocolate syrup and honey on her skin. Her eyes widened behind her sunglasses at the unbidden erotic imagery! She’d better keep a lid on it. She wasn’t a hormonal teenager, she was a journalist and an author who wrote hot, sexy stories for fun, and he was just a movie star. She chanted those last four words in her head, like a mantra. There was nothing ‘just’ about Noel James! There was nothing ‘just’ in the way he looked today, dressed as casually as he was. It wasn’t ‘just’ that someone could look so good after sitting in a car for three-and-a-half hours on a summer morning and not look wilted. Which is exactly how she was feeling!

‘It’s still early days, Dad,’ he was still talking. ‘We’ve just covered my childhood so far.’ He raked his hair back, his attention totally focused on the phone. His father seemed to be speaking for a long time.

‘Dad,’ he began once, and then clammed up, his lips thinning in frustration. ‘No. ... no, Dad ... Right. Take care. And tell mom I love her.’ He turned off the phone.

She stole a glance at him. He was looking out the window, his face turned away, but it was clearly reflected in the tinted glass. He had a scowl on his face, and his mouth was a thin line. Something his dad had said hadn’t sat well with him. She wasn’t going to probe, she decided. Some things needed to remain private. Especially a son’s conversation with his father.

They drew up in front of the cottage around two in the afternoon, pulling in behind two other cars parked in the red graveled driveway.

To call the cottage a cottage, was something of a misnomer. It was more like a log cabin, and a large one at that. Built completely of wood, a railed verandah ran the length of the front of the two storied house, raised on four steps. Boxes of flowers bloomed at the base, brilliant with the colors of summer. Tall pines surrounded the small green lawn, and he could glimpse a lake at the back.

Noel popped the boot of the car, and pulled out their bags, refusing to let her carry hers.

Piya came out on the verandah, followed by Tinker Bell and dashed down to give Mitul a hug. She came around and said, ‘Hi’ a little shyly to Noel as he smiled charmingly at her.

A tall man came out the front door, and joined them. He was Indian of course. Well built, handsome, and obviously with an affinity for Piya. She introduced him to them - Anuj, her boyfriend. They shook hands all around and went inside. He seemed to have no issues with the obvious hero-worshipping looks she was casting at Noel, much to Mitul’s entertainment. Because Noel looked totally uncomfortable with the situation! But she knew her cousin. Piya loved Anuj and as much as she was star-struck with Noel, she wasn’t going to do anything about it!

****

The extended Puri family was in the living area of the cottage. Cosy, comfortable, couches covered with colorful rugs dotted the room, at the centerpiece of which was a fireplace; wide windows and a door that led to the covered deck at the back, let in a lot of natural light. A spiral staircase led to the second floor, which contained the three bedrooms and the bathrooms. A door at the far left wall led to the kitchen area, while one to the right led to the study. The fresh smell of citrus potpourri permeated the air.

At the back, the ground sloped towards the lake about two hundred meters away. Wooden pylons held up the deck that ran the length of the back of the house, a barbecue at one end of it. A large table surrounded by chairs sat in the middle, while a hammock occupied the other end. The deck could be enclosed by mosquito screens, which they would drop in the evenings. A necessity during summer in the woods. A long pier led from the deck to the lake, a motorboat moored to the end of it.

The view from the deck was breathtaking! The calm waters of the huge lake were surrounded by wooded areas, the dark green of the pines reflecting into the blue of the lake. Once in a while, a jet-ski or sail boat went by, leaving ripples in their wake, and faint sounds of people enjoying themselves broke the quiet of the afternoon.

‘Welcome to Canada, my boy,’ Mr. Puri put a friendly hand on Noel’s shoulder, holding out a bottle of beer to him.

‘Thanks, Uncle, but no thanks,’ he said, shaking his head at the beer. ‘Not much of a drinker, I’m afraid,’ he smiled ruefully.

‘That’s okay. There’s soft drinks in the fridge, let me get you something,’ he said.

‘I’ll get it, uncle,’ Noel was feeling completely comfortable in this warm, welcoming family. They didn’t treat him like a star and for that he was grateful. Even the boyfriends had shaken hands with him and welcomed him much as they would another man in their age group.

He could breathe, he thought.

‘Hey, Noel?’ Rajan called from out on the pier. ‘Wanna go for a boat ride?’ He and Anuj were pottering around near the boat.

‘Only after lunch,’ Mrs. Puri yelled from the kitchen. ‘Come on, everybody, help yourselves,’ she called, carrying a tray of sandwiches out to the deck, followed by the girls with jugs, plates, and sundry items needed for lunch.

Lunch was a boisterous affair and Noel soaked it all in. So different from his family, he thought, his glance going towards Mitul. She was sitting on the hammock with the twins, laughing at something Piya had said and his gut tightened at that sound of that laugh. Almost as if she was aware of his look, she turned to him, the smile still on her face. He smiled back at her, raising his coke can to her in a silent salute.

Lunch over, Mr. and Mrs. Puri elected to have a siesta. The six of them decided to take the boat out on the lake.

Noel followed the others and they all climbed into the boat, placing towels on the seats, before taking off their tops. He followed suit, divesting himself of the plain white tank tap he had on over a pair of functional black swim trunks.

Mitul watched as his head emerged from the top of the tee. She could see every muscle in his torso clearly delineated as they bunched and coiled with his movements. She couldn’t look away. Not from the strong muscles of his neck sloping into wide shoulders. Not from the perfect vee of his torso, the spine indented and curving into the tight, so very tight butt. Not from the strong thighs barely visible under the floppy trunks, and the rigid muscles of his calves. He turned around then, and her eyes wandered up in slow motion, pausing at the vee of his pelvis, drawing attention to the low waistband of his trunks. Up his perfect six-packs, no doubt a result of the hours he spent in the gym, obviously. Up the smooth ridges of his chest and the tiny nipples. A tattoo was etched high on the left side of his chest. A phoenix. Rising from the ashes. His body was smooth, so smooth and she wanted to run her hands over it. Her eyes lifted and met his, and saw the sudden flare of recognition in them.

‘Hey, nice tattoo, dude,’ said Rajan, breaking into her trance-like state.

‘Thanks, I got it in Thailand,’ he replied.

‘What’s he trying to do? Kill us?’ said Piya sotto voce to Mitul who swatted at her.

Mitul turned around, her heart was still thudding at the sight of the unabashed maleness that Noel exuded, her throat dry at the sight seared into her brain. She knew he was looking at her, she could feel his eyes on her back, and she thanked her stars that she’d chosen to bring along her most covered up suits.

Noel leaned back against the seat as the boat took off with Anuj at the helm. She’d been checking him out, he thought, with a smirk. For once, he was happy about the fact that he took so much care of his body. It was his livelihood. He had to take care of it. But he was grateful for it today!

He lay back, lazily watching the scenery fly by, the white wash of the boat at the back framing Mitul’s face in front of him.

It was a gorgeous day, with the sun still high in the sky, and a cool breeze taking the edge of the heat. They came to a stop near a secluded cove and stripped down to their suits - at least the girls did.

Mitul pulled off the electric blue tee she’d been wearing revealing her very modest two-piece underneath. It was black, with a short skirt that rode low on her hips clearly outlining her pelvic bones. A chrome ring held the sides together, the split revealing a shapely thigh, and the black underpants beneath. The top was long for a two-piece, coming down almost to her navel, held up by a pair of strings that tied at the back of her neck. Chrome rings held the front together, giving a surprising glimpse of her cleavage.

Noel looked his fill of her. She never wore anything overtly sexy, he realized, and the thin silver anklet on her right ankle was a surprisingly sexy touch. His eyes drifted up her smooth brown legs to the skirt which left a lot to his imagination. His gaze stopped at the thin strip of skin showing above the waistband, her navel a beckoning dip in the center. His eyes widened as he caught the glint of silver there. A piercing! She had a ring on her navel and for a second he wondered how it would feel in his very dry mouth. He swallowed as his eyes drifted up the concave curve of her belly to her chest. There was nothing underneath that tight black sheath and he could see her nipples clearly outlined in the cold breeze. Suddenly, he had trouble breathing, and he forced himself to look upwards. To the thin silver chain around her neck, up to her face. He looked at her, the sheer earthiness of her weaving a spell on him. Thankfully, she was looking out over the water, a hand on her hip laughing at something.

He turned around and cannonballed into the lake, uncomfortably aware of his body’s reaction. He sank into the water, thankful for the surprising coolness of it against his heated skin, before breaking up to the surface again. He needed to stay in the water for a bit, he realized just in time, as Mitul splashed in a few meters ahead.

They stayed there for a couple of hours, laughing, playing, splashing in the water, before dragging themselves out and turning the boat homewards. Mitul shivered a little in the cold breeze, and was startled when Noel wrapped a towel around her, leaving his arm around her, letting her warm from the heat of his body.

Neither Piya nor Jiya missed this show of concern.

*****

That evening, after dinner, the whole group sat chatting on the deck. The mosquito screens had been rolled down, and citron candles kept any stray bugs out of the way.

Conversation finally turned to Noel’s choice of profession. He knew it would come, but then this was part of what Mitul wanted to talk to him about. So he had no qualms about sharing with these people about himself.

‘So, Noel,’ said Rajan. ‘Do you have to take training to do all those action stuff you did in your last movie?’

He gave a low chuckle and shook his head, ‘No. I already knew how to ride a horse, I can drive most vehicles, right-hand, left-hand drive and I also know how to swim. I do know how to hold and shoot different types of guns. I’ve done sky diving, and scuba diving as well. Although I haven’t flown a plane yet. Am working towards a license for that,’ he willingly gave these details.

‘Wow! where did you learn all this?’

‘My father, and then the army,’ he said. ‘Dad’s an army man. He wanted us to go into the army like he did. My older brothers didn’t want to. I did.’ He stopped.

‘So why did you leave the army?’ it was Jiya who asked in the sudden silence.

Mitul had her eyes on him. She was curious about this too.

‘Long story, Jiya, and not a pretty one,’ he shook his head, grimacing at the memories.

The others realized that he didn’t want to talk about it and didn’t pursue it.

‘So do you do all your stunts yourself?’ Rajan was back with the action questions.

He smiled at the younger man, and said, ‘some. But if it’s too dangerous, they don’t let us do it.’

‘You’re the star after all!’ chortled Anuj.

‘Yep,’ he said, pulling up an imaginary collar, before strutting around as everyone went into peals of laughter, seeing him do the Dev Anand walk.

Mitul joined in, and looking around, she saw how easily he had fit into this milieu and this family.

*****

That night, Noel lay in bed in the darkness. The quiet was only broken by the night sounds of the forest around them. It was peaceful. So peaceful. So quiet, he could hear the lapping of the waves on the shore. The swooshing sounds lulled him and his eyelids grew heavy and drooped.

Suddenly he heard it. A long low, wailing sound, ending in a harsh growl. He sat up. Tinker Bell sat up too. What was that? He wondered. It seemed to have come from far away, echoing across the hills. And it was like no other animal he’d ever heard. But he had heard something similar once before. In the hills of Manipur. In India.

*****

Five-Thirty AM - IV

Noel came awake, as he always did, with a suddenness that went from complete unconsciousness to full consciousness in a matter of seconds. He opened his eyes, looking around the unfamiliar room. It was still dark outside and he lifted his wrist to look at the time. Five a.m. He was wide awake; too early to get out of bed, and too late to go back to sleep. He got up and used the bathroom, before padding out into the living room/kitchen area.

Mitul’s bedroom door was closed and he hoped she was having a good night’s sleep.

Clad in his track suit bottoms and a tee - he cleared a small space in the living room and went through his yoga routine. This was something he’d picked up in rehab, and he’d found in it the means of de-stressing and dealing with life in general. The mind clears and the body is ready for the day. He finished his routine with fifteen minutes of meditation. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. To his surprise, the sun was already making its presence felt through the blinds in the living room.

He pottered around the kitchen till he found the fixings, brewed a pot of coffee and poured a cup. The terrace was lower than the living room by two steps and in one corner was a small glass-topped table and two chairs. An ashtray sat on the table, but it was clean and clearly placed there for anyone who wanted to smoke. This was the ‘smoking zone’ of the apartment.

The early morning calm enveloped him. His mind was clear, uncluttered by the daily conflicts of his existence. For now, all he wanted to do was sit and think about nothing. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time. The terrace faced the North, the flat vista of Ontario clearly visible, with the Niagara escarpment rolling into the distance way to the West. To the East, the sun was climbing up the sky, the rosy hues changing into gold before the heat turned on, but the northerly direction of the terrace shielded most of it from the sun’s rays during the hottest hours.

He wasn’t aware how long it was that he sat there. It was strangely quiet for a Monday, with hardly any sound of traffic even. His mind went over their day yesterday. It had been a long day and in truth, they hadn’t really covered much ground about his life - which was supposedly the reason for the meet. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought back over the range of things they’d talked about, though.

This wasn’t just about him talking to her, her interviewing him. This was as much about him getting to know her. Within a week, he’d gone from wanting to see the face behind the voice, to wanting to know the person behind the face! His manager, Dev would have a fit if he knew. Which reminded him...

He was crossing the living room when the land line rang shrilly, breaking the silence of the apartment. He looked at the caller id, saw Piya and picked it up in a flash, not wanting to wake up Mitul.

‘Hello?’ he heard what sounded like Piya’s voice, while he was still trying to figure out how to answer the call.

‘Hi, Piya?’ he asked.

There was a gasp at the other end and silence, which lasted for all of two seconds and then, ‘yes.’

‘Hey, how are you? it’s Noel,’ he said.

‘I know. Sorry for calling so early, are you awake yet?’ Piya asked carefully.

He frowned, trying to understand what she was talking about. ‘I am. Mitul is still sleeping, I think. She had a headache last night.’

‘Oh! Are you feeling better now?’ she asked, stressing on the ‘you’.

‘I guess,’ he answered hesitantly.

‘Listen, why don’t you call me back in an hour or so, when you’re fully awake, Mitul?’ she suggested.

The light finally turned on in his mind! But of course!

‘Thanks, Piya,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll let Mitul know you called, okay?’

He heard Piya sigh in relief as well, as she realized he’d finally caught on. ‘Are you meeting Noel today?’ there was a hint of laughter in her tone.

‘I’m standing in her apartment, Piya. Of course, I’m ... dammit! are you teasing me?’ he laughed outright at that.

She giggled a little and finally decided to let him be. ‘Yes, of course, Mitul, just call me back when it’s good for you, okay?’

He chuckled. ‘Okay, I’ll tell her. Bye,’ before hanging up.

He walked into the guest bedroom, and looked around for his phone. Three missed calls, all from Dev! He shut the door, and dialed the number.

‘Noel, what the hell?!’ were the first words out of Dev’s mouth, his deep voice barking out the question.

Dev Karmakar, by birth, Dave Carmichael by profession. Wanna be DJ, and now his agent and manager. Also his best friend from his school days, who’d been there by his side through thick and thin. Thirty-two, five-nine, stocky muscular build, with a bullet-shaped head, bristly dark brown hair cut ridiculously short, and a soul goatee. His eyes were his best asset, big and brown with impossibly feminine lashes on a strong masculine face. They could look deep into and melt a girl’s heart, or drive an icy skewer through an opponent’s. With a brain as sharp as a razor, he’d topped his class in Business management from one of India’s premier institutes.

After Noel joined the entertainment industry, and needed a manager/agent, it was Dev who stepped up to the plate, giving up his job in a multi-national to take on the role of his guide and agent. It had paid rich dividends so far for both of them, and they were happy with the arrangement. Dev thrived on the challenges that the industry threw at him. Noel benefited from having a strong, trustworthy, and loyal friend by his side in an industry that could have chewed him up and spat him out.

But right now, Dev was hopping mad at him. ‘What the hell, Noel?’ he repeated. ‘I’ve been trying to call you since this afternoon at the hotel, where were you?’.

‘Sorry, Dev. I’ve been out. I spent the day sight-seeing, and then crashed for the night at a friends’,’ Noel calmed him down.

‘Friend’s, hunh? How come I don’t know anything about friends in Toronto?’ he could hear the smile in Dev’s voice. He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘How’s it going with the author?’

‘We started working yesterday,’ Noel could truthfully answer that much.

‘Great! Make sure that everything, and I mean everything, is approved by us, before she prints it. I’ve already spoken to Joyce, and we’ve agreed that once the chapters start taking shape, we’ll have to set up reviews.’

‘Is that all you called me for?’ Noel sat on the bed, wondering why Dev had been so frantic to get in touch with him. This wasn’t anything that couldn’t have waited.

‘No. Nakul was asking me where you were,’ referring to the liaison from the production house of the film that Noel was due to start over the next week. ‘I told him I didn’t know, you’d decided to take a week off, as you wanted this trip kept quiet, etc. I did let him know that you’d definitely be joining them in New Foundland next week. He might try to get in touch with you, don’t bother. I’ll handle it at this end. And let me know if you decide to go off the grid again, for God’s sake. I was worried about you,’ he finished.

‘I will,’ Noel grinned. ‘It’s just.. ‘

‘Yeah. You never did tell me why you decided to spend your vacation in Toronto of all places,’ he grumbled. And then, as a sudden thought struck him, he followed it up. ‘What’s she like?’

Noel could just imagine the wolfish grin on Dev’s face. He shook his head as a reluctant smile of admiration spread over his face. ‘Bye, Dev,’ he said.

‘Oh! That good, huh?’ Dev was now enjoying himself.

‘BYE!’ he said emphatically, before toning it down. ‘Really, Dev, ‘bye. I gotta go.’

‘Okay. Bye,’ Dev was chuckling as he finally ended the call.

He was amused at his friend’s gutter mind, shaking his head over it. The phone was dying so he plugged it into the charger, before heading out to the living room again. Mitul was sitting on a sofa, lazily surfing through channels on the TV, looked much better, although her eyes were still puffy.

‘Hey,’ she said, when she saw him. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’ She waved her mug at him.

‘No problem,’ he poured himself another cup. ‘How’re you feeling today?’ He joined her on the couch. Her voice had that same raspy tone to it, that had caught his attention the very first time she’d talked to him. So that was her just-woken-up voice, he thought with a mental smile.

‘Better. Much better,’ she said. ‘That Tylenol did the trick. I slept like a log.’

His face was serious as he remembered the argument he’d had with her last night. She’d insisted on having Tylenol. He’d tried to stop her.

***************

‘I need it,’ she said.

‘Mitul, have a glass of warm milk, and go to sleep. I’ll give you a head massage, if you like, and you’ll be asleep in no time,’ he said. ‘Just don’t take pills for something as simple as a headache.’

‘Oh, for god’s sake, Noel,’ she scrunched up her face in pain. ‘Please. Just give me two Tylenols and let me sleep. I’ll be fine tomorrow.’

‘These can get addictive, Mitul,’ he said gravely.

‘Are you serious? I’m just gonna take a couple, go to sleep. Nothing addictive about it.’

‘How many do you take in a week?’ he asked her.

‘What?’

‘You do know that Tylenol contains ingredients that can get addictive if taken regularly?’

‘Oof! I know. But I am not taking them everyday. I just need something to ease this massive pain I have, and you’re not helping,’ she yelled at him, tears brimming into her eyes with the pain, lips trembling, distress evident in her hunched shoulders.

He hadn’t been able to stop her then. She’d taken a couple of Tylenol with some milk and then walked into her room, closing the door shut behind her.

****************

They watched BBC in silence for a while before she asked without looking at him, ‘why were you so against me having Tylenol last night?’

He shook his head. ‘It’s nothing. I have a thing against using medication if it can be avoided. Using natural remedies. And I guess I got carried away,’ he looked apologetically at her. ‘I’m sorry. I had no right ... ’

‘It’s okay,’ she looked at him now. ‘So, what’s the plan for today?’

‘I forgot!’ he exclaimed. ‘Piya had called. She wants you to call back,’ he informed her.

‘Oh no! Did you take the call?’

He shrugged, ‘I didn’t want the phone to wake you up, so I took the call. Besides I saw that it was her number, so ... ‘ Damn! Was he going to keep apologizing to her today?

She was shaking her head, going ‘shit! Shit! Shit!!’ She picked up the phone and dialed the Puri’s home number.

He turned the TV volume down, as she sat there, legs tucked under her on the couch, waiting for the phone to be answered, biting on her full lower lip. For some reason, the swear word out of her mouth, was vaguely ... exciting, he thought. What was wrong with him? He looked at her, taking in the mussed hair, which she raked her long fingers through. She really had beautifully shaped hands, he noticed, with those short, neatly manicured clear nails. He looked at her feet, the high arches and pale champagne colored toes. Elegant was the only word that came to his mind.

‘Piya?’ her deep voice sent that same shiver down his back.

‘Mitul? Hey, call my cell, please,’ said Piya, with an excited giggle.

‘Why?’

‘Just do it,’ she insisted, and hung up.

Mitul frowned and disconnected before dialing Piya’s cell.

‘Oh my God, Mitul,’ Piya was almost choking with excitement, when she picked up. ‘Noel stayed there last night?’

Mitul got up and walked out to the terrace, not wanting to discuss this in front of him.

He watched her go, a faint smile in his eyes, fully aware of exactly what Piya would be grilling her on now.

‘Yes, he did. I had a bad headache, so he brought me home, and it was too late for him to go back, so he slept in the guest room, bas!’ she said with finality.

‘Ai ai ai,’ Piya was fanning herself. ‘So the next time, I sleep in that bed, I can imagine him sleeping in it!’

‘Piya, behave!’ she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

‘And you want to tell me nothing happened between you two?’

‘No! absolutely not. And it’s not gonna happen.’

‘Why ever not? He’s hot. You’re cute, kinda. What’s wrong with you two?’

She slammed a forehead against her palm. ‘Is that all you called me for, Piya?’

‘Ya, ya, topic change. And you think I’ll forget this so quickly? But anyway, let it be. This time, I’ll let you off the hook,’ Piya continued grandiosely.

Mitul just shook her head exasperatedly. ‘Are you going to tell me or not? otherwise, we’re done here.’

‘No, no, wait! You remember we’d planned on going to cottage country next weekend? Well, Dad was asking if we wanted to go earlier instead, like maybe tomorrow?’

Mitul thought for a moment and said, ‘I have to work with Noel. He’s here specifically for this interview. I just can’t abandon it and go away.’

‘Or you just don’t want to abandon him?’ Piya grinned cunningly.

‘Piya!’ she warned.

‘Okay, okay. I see you’re point,’ Piya paused, thinking. ‘Hold on,’ she said.

Mitul waited while she listened to the intermittent beeps of the hold tone. After about a minute of waiting, she came back on.

‘Mitul, Papa says, why not ask Noel to come along with us? After all, he’s on vacation. Rajan and Anuj are also coming along, so he’ll have male company as well, other than Dad’s, I mean.’ She stressed the ‘male’ word.

Mitul thought for a moment and said, ‘let me ask him.’ She put the phone on mute, tapping her teeth with it. A week with him, with family around. It would give them time to work without worrying about random people questioning their association. It would also probably be better to have other people around them, she thought, without questioning why this was important to her.

She walked back to the living room to see that he’d opened up his laptop and was reading something on it.

‘Noel,’ she said. ‘Piya was asking if you would like to join us this week in cottage country.’

He looked questioningly at her.

She sighed and elaborated. ‘We were supposed to go to cottage country next weekend. Uncle would like to go up there earlier, and they’ve extended an invitation to you, too. That is, if you would like to come,’ she added grudgingly

‘Do you wanna go?’ he asked.

She stared at him. ‘What does have to do with it?’

He bent his head, thought for a moment and said, ‘if you want to go, I’m in,’ looking straight into her eyes, conveying to her that this was her decision to make. She looked right back at him, assessing what she was reading in his eyes.

‘Okay,’ she said, un-muting the phone. ‘Piya, we’ll join you guys.’

The squeal that came over the phone was audible even to him, and he chuckled. ‘I gather she’s happy,’ he said.

She nodded at him, finishing the conversation.

‘Mitul, I was wondering. Would you mind if I downloaded the pics from yesterday onto my laptop?’

‘But of course, you can,’ she exclaimed. She fetched the link cords and helped him hook up the camera, and then headed into the kitchen to make some breakfast.

He downloaded the pictures from the camera and then carefully deleted the shot that he’d taken of her from the memory card. He didn’t think she would appreciate being photographed without her knowing. In fact, he was positive she wouldn’t, having seen her reaction the day before.

‘When are we going to cottage country?’ he asked.

‘Tomorrow,’ she said.

‘I have to be in New Foundland next week,’ he told her.

‘When do you have to be there?’ she asked.

‘Wednesday. I have to fly in on Wednesday,’ he said.

‘No problem. We’ll come back on Monday,’ she promised him.

He’d have to call Dev and let him know. He was going to be off the grid for almost a week.

She got one more call that day. From Joyce. She wanted to know if they’d met up and had they started working on the book as yet. She assured Joyce that they had and that she, i.e. Mitul would be going to cottage country for the rest of the week.

‘Will you be able to get emails?’ asked Joyce.

‘I’ll have my mobile internet with me,’ she replied.

‘Okay then, keep in touch, and I have your cell number,’ Joyce said.

‘Just use it for emergencies, Joyce,’ Mitul warned her.

‘Always, darling,’ Joyce assured her. ‘Give Noel my love,’ she finished the call.

She turned to him and said, ‘Joyce sends you her love.’

‘Thanks.’ He made a mental note to tell Dev to send Joyce some flowers. Whatever she wasn’t allergic to!

****

Five-Thirty AM - III

She worked the strap of her handbag as she walked into the lobby of the hotel and headed to the reception at about ten past eleven the next day. She leaned over to catch the receptionist’s eye and said, ‘Mr. James, Noel James. Can you please call his room and let him know that I’m waiting down here?’ 

‘Sure, miss,’ the receptionist smiled kindly, and dialed a number. She held the phone to her ear for half a minute and then hung up. ‘I’m sorry, he’s not answering,’ she said apologetically.

‘Oh!’ Mitul was surprised. She had told him eleven today, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. He should at least have had the courtesy to cancel if he wasn’t going to show up, she thought with mild irritation. She wandered back towards the lounge, looking around her, a bit lost. A tap on her shoulder made her jump.

‘Hi,’ she turned around and looked up into his green eyes. ‘You’re late.’

Her mouth opened. ‘Wha! Wait, I tried calling your room, and there was no answer.’

‘I decided to wait downstairs for you,’ he said. ‘Shall we go?’

They walked into the sunlight and he looked at her, pulling on his glasses. ‘Where to?’

‘I thought we could go to Centerville Island,’ she said.

‘Where’s that?’ he asked following her lead as she walked towards the corner.

‘It’s an island, on the lake,’ she swung her arm to indicate a South ward direction. They walked along in companionable silence, joining the throngs of tourists in the streets.

He looked around taking in the tall skyscrapers, interrupted by the old sprawling structure of Union Station. She’d told him to wear comfortable shoes for walking and he realized why now. It was almost a kilometer to the quay. They bought tickets for the ferry and waited in line with tourists, all dressed for a day in the hot summer sun. He himself had elected to wear dockers and a short-sleeved tee with sneakers.

She was casually dressed too, except her baggy khaki cargo shorts came to just below her knees, showing off smooth muscled calves, and instead of a tee she wore a fitted white tank top, her hair tied in a messy ponytail that was stuck through the band of the baseball hat she wore. She had no makeup on, he noticed. Nothing. A camera bag was slung on one shoulder. Shades covered her eyes.

They boarded the ferry and she led the way up to the top. He followed her to the deck, and they moved to the back of the boat, leaning on the railings, looking at the jagged picture of the skyline.

The boat moved off the wharf with a loud hoot, they felt the engines shuddering under their feet as the boat moved away from the shore.

‘Why are we at the back?’ he asked.

‘Because this is the best view,’ she grinned up at him.

He raised his eyebrows and waited for her to say more. She shook her head, her long pony now flying in the breeze off the boat’s movement. He leaned his forearms on the rails, watching the now receding skyline of Toronto.

She looked up at him, haloed by the sunlight shining on his hair behind him, picking out glints of gold in the deep brown. His green eyes were covered by the usual wrap around shades and he was looking around breathing in deeply of the fresh air.

‘This is really nice, Mitul,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you suggested this.’

She nodded her head. ‘I love this boat ride. I love the water,‘ she said. ‘There’s a sense of peace, of calm about water.’ Her voice faded off.

He nodded, content to let silence be his answer.

‘Look!’ she pointed after some time, ‘swans!’

He smiled, then, a charming, disarming smile, taking in the regal birds slowly paddling by. She caught her breath. He really was gorgeous, she thought.

‘So, what would you like to know about me?’ he asked.

She had taken out her camera and was busy focusing on the skyline as it swept wider and wider into view, the buildings lining the waterfront all tall, skinny, blue glass and chrome, reflecting the sun. The sweep of the CN tower rose above them, piercing into the blue of the sky, with the arc of snow white that was the SkyDome’s roof forming a counterpoint at its base.

She clicked a few pictures and then said, ‘your name?’

He frowned at her. ‘What about my name?’

‘Noel James. Is that your real name?’ She looked at him.

‘Noel James Figueiredo, That’s my full name,’ he said, pronouncing Figueiredo with the silent ‘g’ and the rolling ‘r’s. ‘I dropped the Figueiredo when I started modeling,’ he said, staring out at the waters and the clearly etched skyline now. He looked down at her by his side, a rueful smile playing about his lips. ‘My agent said no one would be able to pronounce it.’

‘It is kinda hard,’ she agreed, looking up at him.

‘Try it,’ he challenged.

‘Fig ... fig ... ,’ she stopped. ‘I’ll have to write this down to get it right,’ she shook her head. He chuckled.

‘So where does it come from?’ she continued.

‘Portuguese. My great-grandfather was full-blooded Portuguese, hence the green eyes,’ he explained crisply. ‘He settled in Goa, and married my great-grandmother, who was a Maharashtrian.’

‘So do you speak Portuguese?’

‘Si.’

‘How many languages do you speak?’ she was really curious about this man, about getting to know about him.

‘Six,’ he said lazily. ‘Hindi, English, Marathi, Portuguese, Konkani, and Punjabi.’

‘Wow! I feel so stupid,’ she said, ‘I know only three,’ she felt distinctly inadequate.

‘What do you speak?’

‘English, French and Hindi,’ she pouted.

He chuckled at that. ‘You speak French?’ He leaned with his back against the railing all his attention focused on her.

‘Had to learn here in Canada. It helps,’ she replied succinctly. He nodded understandingly. She turned around mimicking his action, leaning against the railing, facing the inside of the boat.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed a young Indian girl raise her phone and click a picture of them. She shoved off the rails and marched over to her.

‘Just what the hell do you think you were doing?’ she hissed at the girl.

‘Isn’t that Noel James?’ the girl asked her, instead, her eyes round with awe.

‘How dare you take my picture without my consent?’ The fury in Mitul’s voice took the girl aback. She stepped back as Mitul moved closer to her.

‘It’s a public place,’ she protested.

‘So take pictures of what’s out there. But not me and my friend, you understand?’ Mitul grabbed the phone out of the girl’s hand, and swiftly deleted the shot, before handing back the phone.

‘Wait. You can’t do that!’ the girl protested.

‘Sure I can, missy. And if I see one picture of his or mine on Facebook or Twitter or whatever, I will haul your pretty little ass into court so fast for invasion of privacy, you won't have an ass left,’ Mitul was grinding out her words now. Her entire body was tensed, leaning forward, intimidating the person in front of her.

‘Hey! You can’t speak to my daughter like that,’ the girl’s mother stepped into the fray.

People were starting to turn and stare at the scene.

‘In that case, Ma’am,’ Mitul stressed sarcastically, ‘you better teach little miss Muffet here, some manners. She’s taking pictures of me and my friend without our consent.’

‘Mitul,’ the low voice came to the left of her. ‘Come on, it’s not worth it.’ His hand held hers, his thumb drawing little circles on the back of her hand, calming her down. He was drawing her away from the girl and her mother. ‘Come on,’ he urged, once more. ‘Let’s go.’

She snorted angrily, before turning and allowing herself to be led away by him. He led her down to the lower deck area, finding a slightly isolated spot. Seating her, he stood in front of her, effectively blocking her from anyone else’s line of vision.

‘What was that for, Mitul?’ he asked.

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes, her visor shielding her face from his.

‘Look, I’m used to it, people do it all the time,’ he said.

‘In India. Not here. Here, its just plain bad manners not to mention, invasion of privacy,’ she sulked.

‘It’s okay. There’s no harm done,’ he crouched before her, taking off her shades forcing her to look into his eyes. ‘It’s a beautiful day. And we’re almost at the island,’ over her shoulder, he could see that the boat was nearing the tiny pier on the island. ‘Let’s find a place to sit and talk, okay?’

She nodded reluctantly, unwilling to let the anger go. One part of her mind was already questioning her. Why did she react such volatility when that girl clicked the picture? He was, after all, a public figure, and as he’d said, he was used to people doing this all the time.

But not with me, something inside her whispered.

****

The very tall trees on the island, turned it into a verdant haven. The breeze wafting across the lake cooled down the mid-day heat. The noise and hum of the city was non-existent, although you could still see the cars zipping along on the elevated Gardiner Expressway. But it was all very far away. Here, the atmosphere was somnolent, drowsy, lazy, the quiet broken by the swishing sound of the waves on the shore, the chirping birds on the trees and the distant laughter of children at play somewhere on the island.

They sat across from each other at a trestle table, sipping from the icy cold beer bottles in front of them. The camera sat between them, and Noel pulled it out to take a look at the pictures she’d taken. He clicked through them and said, ‘these are good!’

‘Thanks,’ she replied. ‘I took photography for extra credit,’ she explained.

He smiled and said, ‘you haven’t taken any of me.’ It was almost a question and she looked at him searchingly before answering.

‘We’ll use stock photos, I think, and some from your body of work. I haven’t decided on candid shots yet. Besides, if I took one of you right now, it’d look like you’d been modeling.’

He chuckled and dipped his head, and she realized with a start that he was actually embarrassed! How cute was that?

‘So, Noel, shall we go back to talking about you?’ she dug in.

‘What else do you want to know?’ he leaned his elbows on his table, folded across.

‘Date of birth.’

‘Twelfth of November.’

‘A Scorpio! Do you sting?’

He nodded.

She looked questioningly at him.

He shook his head. ‘I’m not allowed to tell you the year.’

‘Why not?’

‘In my contract. I don’t speak about my age.’

One eyebrow was raised and a smirk replaced the smile. Really? ‘I thought only women did that - not speak about their age, I mean,’ she teased him a little.

‘What’s yours?’

‘What’s my what?’

‘Date of birth.’

‘Eighth of January.’

‘Ah, a Capricorn!’

‘Yep. And I butt,' she laughed.

‘Year?’

‘Can’t tell. It’s in my contract.’

‘Which one?’

‘The one that makes me a woman.’

‘Touche, madame,’ he doffed an imaginary cap. They smiled in companionable silence for a while, then he reached out his hand and removed her hat.

‘What’d you do that for?’ she asked, reaching up to fix her ponytail, totally unaware that the action pulled his eyes to her breasts straining against the tight vest.

He swallowed and looked away, across the lake. Taking her camera, he picked his way down to the softly lapping waves at the shoreline. He clicked a few pictures and turned around.

She had lifted her head up to look at the trees above them, making a green canopy over their heads. The sunlight dappled her skin and she closed her eyes as she tilted her head back, the long lines of her neck forming a delectable arch. He zoomed in on her face and pressed the shutter.

Sitting down, he said, ‘I clicked a few pics, send me the copy of those, please.’

‘Sure,’ she said.

She sipped her beer and said, ‘So how did you get into films?’

‘Isn’t that what this whole book is about? How Noel James Figueiredo, great-grandson of Miguel Figueiredo became Noel James, actor?’

She nodded.

‘So how do you want me to tell my story?’

‘Start at the beginning,’ she said.

****

By the time they got back to the mainland, the sun was already dipping in the West. They walked to the hotel and she stopped him in the lobby.

‘I should go home, Noel,’ she said.

‘What about dinner? Won’t you join me?’ he asked, as if it was the most natural thing to have dinner together.

‘Can I get a raincheck? I have a headache,’ she explained, squinting her eyes a little at the pain in her temples. ‘I just want to shower, take a Tylenol and go to bed,’ her voice had turned a little hoarse with the pain in her head.

He looked at her closely before saying, ‘come on up to my room.’

‘What?’ she stared at him scandalized.

He shook his head. ‘You can’t drive like this. I can’t allow it.’

‘Noel James Figueiredo, you can’t tell me what to do,’ she protested, although it was a weak one.

‘No I can’t, but I just can’t let you go like this either,’ he added grimly, genuine concern clouding his eyes, not even noticing that she’d just pronounced his last name perfectly.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she whispered. ‘It’s just the sun.’

He looked at her exasperatedly. ‘Wait here,’ he said, before turning around and walking away.

She sat down on a couch, and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. She didn’t know how long she sat there, when she felt a touch on her shoulder. She opened her eyes, to see him standing in front of her, a gym bag in his hand.

‘Come,’ he said, holding out his hand.

She placed her hand in his trustingly. Her head was pounding now, with a million hammers slamming into her skull. He led her to the elevators and asked, ‘which level?’

‘Two,’ she responded as he pressed the ‘Down’ button.

They walked to her car, and he held out his hand. ‘Keys,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘I’m taking you home, Mitul, no questions about it. Okay?’

***

Five-Thirty AM - II

Mitul stared at herself in the mirror examining the face that stared back at her. Pixie-shaped face, with large, light brown eyes, thick, long-ish lashes. Neatly shaped brows. Bow-shaped lips. Small nose. Smooth cheeks. A mole stared back at her from just to the left of her lower lip. She hated it. Maybe she’d do something about it soon. Get it removed perhaps. She wasn’t bad looking but, she wasn’t going to win a Miss World crown, either. Being just five-foot-two also ruled out any beauty pageants, for that matter! 

She checked the rest of herself out. Tight blue jeans clung to her shapely legs, finishing in a pair of well-worn cowgirl boots in rust colored ostrich leather. A black tank-top clung to her curves, visible under the brown leather jacket, that hung open. A black leather wristlet sat snugly on her right hand, and a wristwatch with a leather band adorned her left. Her only jewelry was the gold chain that hung around her neck, with a delicate gold Mexican cross pendant. The one thing she loved about herself was her hair. Layered in soft waves, it framed her face like a black halo, thick and shining and almost alive as it moved with even the tiniest shake of her head.

The phone rang disturbing her self-contemplation. She walked out of the closet and picked up the phone by the bedside table.

‘Hello?’

‘Mitul, it’s us,’ she heard her cousin Piya’s voice.

‘Okay,’ she said, holding down a button on the phone to open the secured door downstairs. She left the main door open and walked back to the bedroom, looking for her bag. Two minutes later, Piya walked into the apartment, followed by Rajan and Jiya.

Piya and Jiya were identical twins and her cousins, and the closest in age to her. Rajan was Jiya’s fiance, although how he told the two apart, one could never tell. Yet he never mistook Piya for Jiya! Probably because they were so different in character - on the outside, at least. In true filmy style, Piya and Jiya embodied the Seeta-Geeta type of attitude to life. Jiya was the quiet one. Piya the bubbly one. Rajan was a sweetheart and doted on his fiancee.

‘Hey, guys,’ Mitul smiled broadly, her teeth flashing through her pale bronze lipstick, revealing the slight unevenness of her upper canine teeth, which somehow added to her charm. They hugged each other all around, and she offered them drinks as they waited for Anuj, Piya’s boyfriend.

‘So, Mitul, what’s your latest project?’ asked Rajan, his arm resting along the back of the sofa behind Jiya.

‘A biography. I’ve been wanting to write this for a long time,’ she grinned. ‘But we just got the go-ahead this morning.’

‘Whose?’ Piya was curious.

‘Noel James,’ she grinned.

‘No way!’ Piya sat up. ‘Oh my God! Are you gonna interview him?’

Mitul nodded.

‘You have to introduce me to him,’ exclaimed Piya, fanning herself with her hand. ‘He’s HAWT!!’

‘You better not let Anuj see you hyperventilating over another man like that,’ admonished Rajan, through their laughter at her dramatics.

The phone rang to inform them that Anuj was downstairs waiting for them. Mitul checked her bag for phone, wallet, keys, breath freshener, yup, she had everything she needed for the night - before leading the way out of the apartment. Friday night in downtown Toronto with her best friends. It was a party and she was prepared for it!

****

She woke up lazily to find the sun shining high in the sky. The clock on the bedside said ten-thirty. She stretched. Ten-thirty on a Saturday without much to do except laundry was perfect! The twins were sleeping in the guest room as they often crashed in her apartment after a night in town. Rajan and Anuj had returned home in the wee hours of the morning. This arrangement had been approved by Piya and Jiya’s parents. In fact, they used the apartment even when she was not in town.

She stretched again. It had been a great night, especially since she’d run into some old friends of hers from UofT. It had ended up with a big group of about ten people, lots of dancing, and lots of drinking.

Having brushed her teeth, set up the percolator for coffee and peeped in to check on the twins, she took out her phone and turned it on. Ten missed calls from a number she didn’t recognize and one voicemail. She picked up the coffee pot and played the voicemail on speakerphone, almost dropping the pot, when she heard the voice!

‘Much as I liked listening to your voicemail, Miss Imani, I’d really like you to call me back at this number. I’m here in Toronto and was trying to get in touch with you.’ The husky voice was unmistakable! Noel.

She blinked a couple of times, before replaying the message. Okay. He was here, already? She decided to call him a little later to give him time to wake up.

The twins wandered in just then, yawning in their pyjamas, looking mussed and sleepy.

‘Hey, guys!’ she greeted them.

‘God, Mitul! how can you looks so fresh after a late night, that too after all that drinking?’ moaned Piya.

‘Genes, darling,’ she replied smiling. ‘Coffee?’

‘Sure,’ Piya pulled two mugs from the cupboard while Jiya made herself comfortable on a bar stool in front of the counter separating the kitchen from the living room.

‘So, what’s the plan for today?’ Jiya asked, taking a sip of the hot, fragrant brew.

Mitul pursed her lips and then said, ‘I gotta work.’

‘Work?’ Piya was scandalized. ‘Work on a Saturday? Mitul Imani, are you nuts?’

She grinned. ‘Okay, let me make a call and then we’ll see.’ Picking up her phone, she walked back to her bedroom, before calling the number.

Two rings later, a distinctly Canadian accent answered her call, ‘Hotel Fairmount. How can I help you?’

She raised her eyebrows and said ‘Mr. James’ room, please. First name, Noel.’

‘One moment, please,’ the sing song voice answered, before she was put on hold. She listened to the phone ringing and on the third ring, someone picked it up.

The same frisson ran down her back as he said, ‘Hello.’

‘Hi. Noel?’

There was silence at the other end for all of fifteen seconds before he breathed, ‘Mitul.’ A pause. ‘Hi. I tried calling you last night.’

‘I’m sorry, I was out and just picked up your voice mail,’ she didn’t know why she was explaining herself to him.

‘It’s okay. Ah .. Can you do brunch today?’ he asked.

‘Actually, I have company,’ she answered awkwardly. ‘How about tomorrow? A late breakfast at Diana’s?’ she asked.

She didn’t see him shut his eyes at the first sentence. She wasn’t aware of the frustration that hit him with the words, ‘company’. Of course, she’d have company. She was out on Friday night and probably ... he stopped himself. He had no business trying to figure out her personal life.

‘Sure,’ he took a deep breath. ‘I just thought you’d want to get started as soon as possible.’

‘I do!’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s just that ... ‘

‘I understand.’

‘I do have to drop my cousins off,’ she explained, wondering once again why she was intent on clearing any misconception he might have about her.

Cousins! He smiled to himself. ‘Cousins?’

‘Yeah. Twins. Sisters.’

The relief he felt on hearing that was a little abnormal, but he decided to go with the flow. ‘Tell you what. Why don’t you bring them along and we can do a late breakfast or lunch today?’

She stared open-mouthed at the phone. Jiya-Piya would have heart attacks at this! ‘Are you sure?’ she wanted to question his sanity. ‘Piya is a huge fan, you know,’ she warned him.

‘It’s okay,’ his voice dropped an octave lower, if possible. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Okay,’ she nodded.

‘So, let’s say twelve o’clock? You name the place,’ he said.

‘Diana’s on Front,’ she replied, a sudden craving for pancakes hitting her. ‘They do all day breakfast.’

‘Sounds good,’ he smiled, she heard it in his voice. ‘I’ll see you there,’ and hung up.

She stood there, clutching the phone in her hand for a second thinking back on the call. Such a normal call. They’d talked easily and comfortably. Then she grinned. Piya and Jiya were in for such a surprise!

‘Guys!’ she walked back into the living area. ‘Get dressed, soon. We’re going out for brunch, at Diana’s,’ she informed them.

‘Cool,’ said Jiya, sliding off the stool and heading to the guest bathroom.

*****

It was five after twelve, and Noel stood on the sidewalk outside Diana’s, hands in the pockets of his blue jeans. The white long-sleeved shirt he’d paired with it, was pulled across his sinewy arms and chest, and was rolled up to reveal his forearms. The gentle breeze off Lake Ontario felt nice, lifting the silky strands of his hair. A pair of wrap around sunglasses hid his well-known green eyes.

He garnered quite a few looks and some Indian girls were staring at him, wondering if they were seeing right. But he kept his face straight and determinedly pretended that he didn’t notice their attention. They passed him by, whispering and giggling to themselves. But his attention suddenly focused on a trio of women in the car park across the street. Twins - two of them, and a third one.

‘She’s short!’ was the first thought in his head and he smiled to himself. He didn’t know how he knew for certain that it was her, but he just knew.

Mitul spotted him standing on the sidewalk, and nervousness clutched at her throat, but she covered it up and waved to attract his attention.

He raised a hand in acknowledgement.

Piya and Jiya had their mouths open.

‘Mitul?’ he husked when they were close enough, holding out his hand to her.

‘Hi, Noel,’ she said, putting her small hand in his, feeling him envelop it. A warmth coursed through her at the touch, and she raised her eyes in shock to his.

She couldn’t see the widening of his eyes, as he felt that touch and something inside him fluttered. Her voice was really like that, velvety and smooth. His stomach tightened.

He turned to her cousins and said, ‘Hi!’ to them, waiting for introductions.

Piya recovered first and said, ‘Wow!! you really do say hi like that!’ she sounded mesmerized. ‘I’m Piya, by the way,’ she held out her hand. ‘And this is Jiya,’ she introduced her sister.

He shook hands with both of them, and stepped forward to hold the door for them to enter.

Piya chattered nineteen to the dozen, asking him all sorts of questions, and he answered all of them pleasantly enough. Jiya, he realized was the quiet one, though she did smile shyly every once in a while. Whereas Mitul. He couldn’t quite figure her out. She seemed relaxed, having breakfast, drinking coffee, interrupting Piya if the question bordered on being intrusive, but never really having a direct conversation with him. And for some reason, that annoyed him. He wanted to talk to her and by God, he was going to do it, before they left this place.

‘So, Mitul, tell me,’ he addressed her directly, his voice dropping unknowingly, sounding huskier.

Piya narrowed her eyes.

‘How do you want to go about doing this, writing this book?’ he asked.

She took a sip of her espresso and licked the foam off her lip, not noticing the green eyes darken just a little a that. ‘I thought we could get together, set aside some time each day - at least a couple of hours. I’d like this to be collaborative, you know,’ she added. ‘And we’ll have to figure out just how you want this story told, so that I can do justice to it.’

He nodded his head, his hair flopping a little on his forehead. ‘I’m due to begin shooting next week for the new film, you know. Location stuff.’

‘Let’s work around our schedules, then,’ she said.

‘Sounds good to me,‘ he replied with a shrug. ‘Have you finished your coffee?’

The swift change of topic unbalanced her for a bit, before she looked down at her cup and said, ‘yes.’

He insisted on paying for breakfast before they headed out. Piya received a call and excused herself. They stood around, watching the flow of traffic, vehicular and human around them as they waited for her.

‘What’s that store?’ he asked pointing to a rather minimalistic sign that said, ‘Sen5es’.

‘That’s a pastry store,’ replied Jiya, for once speaking up. ‘They do really good pastry.’ She smiled shyly at him.

He decided he liked Jiya. She was a sweetheart, eclipsed by the brilliant personality of her sister and the dynamic one of her cousin, but there was a center to her, a core of quietness and calm that was soothing.

He nodded his head, as Piya walked over. ‘Mitul,’ she said. ‘That was Mom. She wants to know when we plan to go home,’ she gave a rueful shrug. ‘She’s expecting you for dinner. I told her we’d be home in an hour or so. I hope that’s okay with you.’

‘Sure, no problem,‘said Mitul, but feeling awkward about dumping Noel in the middle of the street.

‘By the way, Noel, Mom would like you to come over for dinner as well,’ said Piya.

Mitul stared at her surprised. Noel just lifted an eyebrow and surprised the heck out of everybody, including himself by saying, ‘thanks, I’d like that.’

They drove to Brampton on the outskirts of Toronto in Mitul’s car. She was a competent driver and drove swiftly, weaving through the afternoon traffic smoothly, yet casually.

He sat in the passenger seat and wondered what the hell he was doing, accepting invitations to people’s homes without even knowing who they were.

Brampton in Ontario, Canada has a large, very large population of Indians. Most of them watched Indian soaps and films on a regular basis. Piya-Jiya’s parents, Mr .and Mrs. Puri were no exception. They’d known about Mitul’s profession for a long time and understood that sometimes she would be hob-nobbing with celebrities. It is to their credit that they also understood that inviting anyone else over for dinner while a celebrity was in their house would be the utmost bad taste. So dinner would be just their family, Mitul and now Noel.

As Mitul parked on the driveway of their detached home, a Labrador ran out, barking in glee, rushing in and out of the house.

‘Tinker Bell!’ laughed Mitul in glee, bending down to pat the dog.

‘Excuse me?’ He spun around, and then smiled to see her unrestricted joy with the dog. She was kneeling down, her arms around the dog, nuzzling him, and scratching him behind his ears. The free unfettered way in which she hugged the dog, made him wish, a little irrationally that he’d be able to do something to make her be that way with him.

Surprised at this sudden thought, he turned away, his face resuming its usual blank mask.

The door opened and Mr. Puri came out, holding out his hand. They shook hands, and they all went inside the cosy comfort of the Puri home.

****

Mitul drove him back to his hotel after dinner.

He sat quietly, looking out at the drab scenery, listening to the soft strains of music from the car’s music system. It had been a relaxing evening, sitting with a family, having an ordinary dinner, and discussing ordinary things. No media, no fans, no nothing. Even Jiya had opened up and talked. Piya had lost her star-struck air and was comfortable enough to make a few jokes at his expense. Mitul had kept mostly quiet, but once in a while she’d thrown her head back and laughed out loud at the jokes, and each time it had surprised him, and he’d chuckled with her only to find her staring at him, with a look on her face that probably mirrored his own.

‘So, tomorrow, when do you want to meet up?’ she asked, her attention fully on the traffic ahead.

He thought for a while and asked instead, ‘have you lived in Toronto long?’

She flicked a quick glance at him and said, ‘studied here, at the UofT.’ At his questioning look, she expanded, ‘University of Toronto. Spent a lot of time in downtown,’ her eyes crinkled up at the corners, thinking of the fun times during her student days.

‘Why don’t you show me around then?’ he asked. ‘Tomorrow?’

She raised an eyebrow and said, ‘What?’

‘You heard me. Show me around, and we can talk at the same time,’ he said.

She smiled then. The first genuine smile she’d thrown his way. ‘Okay.’

They’d arrived at Front Street and her attention was occupied weaving her way in between vehicles, pedestrians and the perennial construction zones. She stopped in front of the doors and said, ‘I’ll pick you up around eleven, then.’

He looked at her, his gaze doing a quick scan of her face and said, ‘I’ll be waiting.’ He opened the door and turned around.‘Thanks for today,’ before shutting the door and walking into the hotel.

She put the car into gear and swung into the traffic heading home with her confused thoughts.

*****

Five-Thirty AM - I

The tones of Verdi’s Spring chimed through the layers of sleep. She came awake in a hurry, gasping for breath, groping for her phone, thankfully visible because of the lighted screen in the dark room. 

‘Hello?’ she slid the lock open and breathed into the mouthpiece.

Her heart was slamming against her ribs, trying to gather her thoughts as she still fought the deep veils of sleep.

‘Good morning, Mitul,’ the deep, husky voice sent frissons down her spine.

‘Good morning,’ she gasped.

‘It’s Noel,’ she could hear the smile in his voice.

‘Noel. Good morning. I’m so sorry. It’s really early in the morning here, and I’m barely awake,’ she said, her voice still hoarse from sleep, still breathing deeply from her sudden wake-up, raking her hair back from her face.

He chuckled. ‘It’s late afternoon here. Joyce wanted me to call you. I didn’t realize you were in America,’ he sounded apologetic.

‘I’m in Canada,’ she said, ‘Toronto.’

‘Oh! Well. Here, talk to Joyce,’ he said.

She could hear the phone changing hands, and the slightly nasal tones of Jyotsana Rashi, her editor.

‘Mitul, I wanted to introduce you to Noel,’ she said.

‘Thanks, Joyce,’ she replied, using the diminutive that her editor preferred to be addressed as. ‘It’s five-thirty in the morning, here!’ she whined.

‘Tell you what, why don’t you call me when you’re awake? I’m at his office now. I should be back in mine in about an hour.’

‘Sure,’ she said.

‘Okay, bye,’ Joyce hung up the phone.

Mitul hung up and looked at the clock. Five-thirty a.m. She sighed. What was Joyce thinking? Her breathing and her heart slowed down. So. Had Noel agreed to the book? She’d find out soon enough, she thought, shoving the comforter aside and padding over to the bathroom. She squeezed toothpaste onto her brush and was just putting it into her mouth when she remembered that ‘Good morning, Mitul.’ She smiled. She wouldn’t mind having that voice as her alarm setting waking her up every morning. No wonder teenagers were agog over him. Her heart did a little skip as she remembered his voice again. Noel James. Thirty-two. Actor. With the deepest, huskiest, sexiest voice she’d ever heard.

And the day was just beginning.

****

Joyce had watched Noel swing his chair around, after the first words, so his back was to her, as he spoke to Mitul. When he turned around, his face was still a pleasant mask. He handed the phone over to her and waited till she’d finished talking.

‘She’s in Canada,’ he said, raising an eyebrow.

‘Yes. She goes there this time of the year, I didn’t know she’d already left. She’d been waiting for you to make up your mind,’ Joyce replied. ‘I guess she decided to leave while you ah.. deliberated,’ she finished delicately.

‘I was thinking,’ he said, thoughtfully, playing with a paperweight lazily, his attention focused on it. ‘I’m due to be in Canada next week. Why don’t I just catch up with her there?’

Joyce looked at him, wondering what he was thinking behind those opaque green eyes. But then, he was an actor, his face was the tool of his trade. He didn’t express anything on it that he didn’t want to.

‘I’ll let her know. And I’ll send you her contact information, so you can get in touch with her,’ she said.

He nodded.

Joyce stood up, knowing the conversation was over. He stood up politely from behind his desk as well, and opened the door for her.

‘See you, Noel,’ she said, and stepped out.

‘Bye, Joyce.’

He shut the door and moved over to the window. Thirty stories above Mumbai he watched the mid-afternoon traffic crawl along. Up here, none of that disturbed him and he liked it that way.

His mind went back to the conversation a few minutes earlier. Mitul, he thought. A beautiful name, and an incredible voice to go with it. Deep and sensual, with that slight raspy edge, so unlike most women. He realized that she’d barely had her wits about her, having woken up from deep sleep. Five-thirty a.m. He grinned wolfishly. Is that how she sounds like first thing in the morning? Every morning? He was curious to know what a woman who sounded like that, would look like first thing in the morning. He was curious to see the face behind the voice. He was curious. Extremely curious. 

*****

Mitul finished eating breakfast before she dialed Joyce again.

‘Hello?’ Joyce sounded more nasal than ever.

‘Hi, Joyce, it’s Mitul. So. Did he agree?’ she got straight to the point.

‘Yes, that’s why we were calling you. He wants you to write the book,’ she smiled into the phone.

‘Oh! Wow!!’ Mitul was more than excited. But then, ‘how are we going to do this? Do I come back to India? I just got here, Joyce.’

‘Well, here’s the thing, hun. Noel is due to go to Canada next week. So, you could just meet him there. He suggested it himself.’

Mitul frowned. That was strange. She didn’t think that he would be that eager to meet with her. He’d given them the run around for months, and all of a sudden he was ready to meet with her and talk?

‘What changed his mind, Joyce? He’d been so unwilling to meet with us before. Why the sudden change of heart?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know, Mitul. Today’s was supposed to be an approval meeting only. Then he offered to meet up with you.’ Joyce shrugged.

She wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. For the past five months, she had been following Noel with a proposal to write his biography. His meteoric rise in the world of television and then movies was the stuff of fairy tales. So far he’d proved elusive, evasive and just plain non-cooperative. Then all of a sudden, today, he’d done a complete one-eighty and decided he wanted to work on it. It was puzzling to say the least, but then, as I said, Joyce wasn’t about to look for reasons. The end result was what mattered. Noel James, actor was ready to talk about himself. Joyce didn’t care why or how.

****

Noel had surprised himself. He’d been a very private person, despite the persistent presence of news channels, media, stalkers and fans. He’d managed to keep a lid on his story - releasing only the bare bones needed to the public. But the constant intrusions were wearing him down. His manager had assented, too, that this was a good move, otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to this. Hence the meeting with Joyce.

And then, he’d heard her voice.

He stretched out his six-feet-two, lean frame in the business class seat, a small self-deprecating smile on his face. He plugged in his iPhone and closed his eyes, his mind going back to that extremely brief and totally unsatisfying conversation a week ago.

He didn’t know why, but now he was consumed with this need, no compulsive need, to see the face behind the voice. Which is why he was headed to Toronto a whole week before he was supposed to be there.

****