My sunny mood didn’t last long, though, as the events of the previous evening unfolded in my mind in a rush and then insisted on doing a replay in excruciatingly painful slow motion. There were no two ways about it—last evening I had demonstrated myself to be a total sucker, incapable of surviving in the corporate rat race. First, I had fought with my boss, then I had failed to handle what was, in hindsight, an easily resolvable crisis and finally, I had turned into a complete wreck in front of Yudi. None of these, of course, beat the fact that I was also seriously infatuated with the guy, thereby signing myself up for another tryst with heartbreak.

I had a long and painful history of developing crushes on guys who were totally out of my league and then simmering in misery as I watched them from afar, too cowardly to own up to my feelings. Most of them, oblivious to my existence, had happily gallivanted into the sunset with other, more glamorous creatures of my sex and the few that I had got the chance to get to know better had turned out to be total losers. It just proved conclusively, as Sammy often told me, that I was a sucker for self-inflicted torture with zero taste in men. And here I was all set to waltz down that path again. Of all the men in the blessed world, I had gone and fallen for Yudi! Yudi of the drop-dead gorgeous looks who left a trail of drooling women in his wake with a mere glance in their direction. Yudi with his wild mood swings and tempestuous nature that left me feeling like I’d gotten off a roller coaster in free fall. Not to mention, Yudi who was probably dating Priyanka and didn’t give a hoot about me, apart from the fact that I was probably being a pain in the neck by interfering in his area of work.

I sighed and forced myself out of bed. It had been a long night. Yudi hadn’t called like he had said he would but he had messaged around 4.30 a.m. to say that the parcel was with Neil and the research was back on track. I’d been on tenterhooks until then, drifting in and out of sleep, waiting for his call, wondering anxiously if the research would get delayed after all. But strangely enough, instead of being relieved when I’d got his message I’d just felt slightly depressed that he hadn’t called me. I’d finally fallen asleep around 6 a.m. only to be woken up again at 8 a.m. by a highly excited Neil who’d called to inform me that he was headed for the first focus group and would keep me posted about the day’s progress.

He was probably through with the first group by now, I thought, drifting to the kitchen where a strong aroma of filter coffee and sambar greeted my nostrils. Saturday mornings were languid affairs in the Sameera—Rishi household with the more traditional breakfast and lunch being done away with, in favour of a long and lazy brunch accompanied by endless cups of Sammy’s favourite filter coffee.