3~ Amon
He thought waiting for the final exams and graduation day were the longest and most cruel days of his life. But counting the days being away from her was pure torture. The long hours were so dragging and if he should wait for one more day to see his girlfriend, he would go crazy.
Girlfriend. Wow. A big word for Amon Kahn. He never really gave his love life a serious thought although, as any normal guy, he also had his share of fantasies and desires towards the gentler sex brought about by puberty. But he never set his ideal type or certain desirable traits for a girlfriend.
It was when he saw her that he realized he was into petite and cute faces. He had always been surrounded by tall, stunning and elegant women his whole life but he never thought of them as attractive as he thought Kara was. It was even wonderful that they connected so much intellectually which for him was more important than the physical attraction he felt. It fueled the simple admiration he initially had but it was her energy that got him. She was a different world and she was so colorful he couldn't resist the pull to fall.
He couldn't stand still while he waited for her in the airport. He was oblivious to the stares from the people waiting with him: some for mere curiosity for his anxiousness, others for being intrigued by his looks.
And finally, there she was. He had to take a deep breath when she emerged from the gate. Her long dark and wavy mane were sexily rumpled while she dragged her luggage behind her. Her searching eyes were covered by oversized aviators, while her unzipped hoodie reached her thighs and fell from her right shoulder. Beneath it, she wore black tank top and leggings. She loved those clothes that bury her small frame and made her look smaller. Thankfully her bright sneakers were of the right size but nonetheless completed the whole ensemble. And then she found him.
I was looking for a tall guy with dark brown hair that curls on his nape in a polo shirt wearing eyeglasses. I didn't see him. Instead, I saw a broad shouldered man in a plain white shirt with a very sexy short hair wearing the same glasses I was looking for.
"You cut your hair!" He beamed at me when I came running towards him but his smile turned into a frown when he heard it and self-consciously touched his new cut.
"Is it bad?" He told me later that he went to his barber on impulse the day after I confirmed my flight to Mumbai. He hadn't change his hair cut for quite a while and he thought it was time to make the change since it was actually changing drastically anyway.
"Bad? I don't see anything bad on how you look! And here I am, looking like a trash bin. I hate you!" As I was still wearing my aviators and drooping sweater, I pouted at him like a 5 year old would.
I should have looked so adorable to him (most probably, translated as "I wish") he forgot he promised himself no more PDA's when I arrive and draw me close by my wrist and removed my sun glasses. Sliding his hand behind my neck, he dipped down to put a slow, welcome back kiss on my pout.
We both had little experience on that department. Our kisses were our proper ones (well, at least for me) and I'd like to think we were getting better and better at it. However, Amon was one step ahead of me.
The girls he had brief flings with were always the first one to initiate and all those lack the ardor and enthusiasm on his part--- according to him to which I wasn't so inclined to agree--- but nonetheless taught him. With us, he was always the one to start. I wasn't complaining though! ^^
The kiss went down nicely from my fluttering stomach, warming me all the way down to my toes. Infinitely enchanted, I put my arms around his neck as his snaked to my back, forgetting the world around us again. We both looked dazed when we finally pulled away.
Amon touched his forehead to mine, not letting go.
"I've missed this beautiful trash bin more than anyone else could."
"I don't think so. I missed you more." He didn't protest but only fixed his gaze on me.
I loved the color of his eyes from the first time I'd seen it. But they were the most beautiful when it darkens like how he looked at me now. It changed the impression he gave; from shy and intellectual to sensual and smoldering. And I'd be seeing a lot of it now that I had come back. However, I wanted it all for myself. I had no idea how I managed to notice the funny looks the other girls were giving MY BOYFRIEND in the lobby.
"But you have to stop being sweet before I lose a boyfriend or I lose my temper." I pulled his hand and my luggage to the exit away from his audience.
Amon was still not aware of the turning heads even as we reached his car. I couldn't decide if I should be annoyed with him or be happy that he was so ignorant of his own effect. But something else caught my attention.
"New car?" I asked him.
He nodded nonchalantly and opened the door for me after putting my bag on the compartment. "My graduation gift."
"Cool! But don't you know any other color?" The interior was superb, though. They wouldn't know how to do things half way.
"Dad bought it. You saw the cars at his house." I remembered it and I smiled. All of them were black, even the motorcycle.
He felt ridiculous when he sat at the driver's seat of his luxury car. He drove his dad's cars since he learned how to and could relish the opportunity of finally going out without a driver but that was different from owning one. When he looked at himself on the mirror that morning, he also felt ridiculous. In fact, he had been feeling absurd lately. He was not the same unassuming, unsure old Amon he used to be. He started looking at himself, finally discovering what people have been telling him for years. He knew he looked like his dad but he couldn't project what his dad could easily show to people and what made him the superstar in Bollywood; the easy, self-contained charm. He was feeling ridiculous but he also felt smug on how things turned out.
I adjusted the lever for the front seat as I always did and stretched languidly before curling my legs, facing him.
He was watching me. I knew he had a thought on his mind from the way his face became pensive. He had always been a thinker. He had changed though but not a lot. I thought and feared he would be a different person from who I thought he was when I would come back. But the only change I noticed was the way he carry himself. It seemed that he had developed the confidence that eluded him for a long time. He still looked serious but there was no more slouching and he didn't avert anyone's stare anymore but casually breezed by them much to my amazement.
I raised my eyebrow at him instead of asking what was on his mind.
She certainly didn't have an idea how she brought changes into his life. “You should tell me now how you told your parents about us.”
“I didn’t tell them. Honey did. She tried to make it easy for me.”
“And?”
“It didn’t work." I snorted. "They had a lot of questions! It was the very reason why I have to tell them in person. I’ll never get away with a telephone call. My Dad doesn’t usually pry on this things but he did boil me like one of his suspects.”
My Dad was a government investigator and every inch of a typical Dad. Erase that. He was much more protective and probing because of the nature of his work. My Mum was a journalist, on the other hand, so you could just imagine the rest. They asked me questions I never even thought of asking but only made me more aware that I didn’t know Amon as much as I wanted myself to believe.
“What sorts of questions did they ask?” Amon wanted to know. I told him I’d tell him all about my parent’s reaction when I get back to India as he kept on bugging me about it on his every call. It just showed me how he cared about my family’s feelings. His family values were never so cleared to me since then.
“My Dad asked about your criminal records.”
I was thrown forward when he suddenly stepped on the brakes. It didn’t occur to me that I forgot to put on my seatbelt again. Thankfully, I put my arm out on time.
“What???” He looked both appalled and frightened when he turned to me.
“What was that for???” He was a careful driver. I had total confidence in him, except that day.
“Sorry…” he mumbled.
We were in the middle of the road but he unbuckled his seatbelt to fasten mine. He took his time to make sure I was properly bundled up before stepping on the gas, promptly ignoring the wild honks from the car line behind us.
“He asked about my criminal records?” he sounded bewildered. We were well on our way again like nothing happened and no drivers passing us making rude gestures.
“Yeah. How should I know, right?” I said.
“And you even considered I have one! I can’t believe this!” He raised his hands into the air and slapped it down on the steering wheel.
Of course I didn’t but he was too occupied to notice that I was just jesting until I laughed.
He gave me a pointed look and said, “I’m serious, you know.”
“You always are. Anyway, I told him you’re as pure as holy water and you couldn’t possibly hurt a fly.” This time, he shook his head and tried not to be amused.
“What did your Mum ask?”
“Mum asks all sorts of things, it was like filling in a bio data. Name, Nationality, Status, Religion, Occupation, Names of Parents and their occupations and such. In the end, I said I’ll make you fill in one.”
He chuckled and glanced at me adoringly, bobbing his head.
I may have made it sound so easy but truth be told, it was an interrogation. My Mum panicked when she took grasp that I was dating a celebrity’s son. Due to her work, she knew a lot about celebrity schemes and I told her it was Bollywood so probably it would be different. She said Hollywood or Bollywood, show business is all the same. Whether one is an actor, a singer or a relation, it doesn’t make a difference. My Dad, being as astute as he was picked out one aspect from my Mum’s bio data questions and made his own point: religion.
Amon and I talked a lot but we never touched that subject. Maybe we both had the understanding that we shouldn’t talk about something we would never agree on. But that concern, along with a few more flew out the window when we decided to change our status, so abruptly and so carelessly. For once in our lives we stopped being cerebral and listened to what our hearts told us. I never regretted it and I know he never did too but some things were not meant to be ignored especially when it involved the people we love and love us.
I learned in the internet that his dad was a Muslim by religion but was not a religious person and didn’t practice what people call a devoted Muslim life. His mum was Hindu and it was suspected to be one of the reasons why they divorced. Mr Zuma said that he and his wives (ex and current) never tackled their religious differences but made clear that his children would only follow the Muslim customs.
Yes, Amon was Muslim and I was Christian. I couldn’t see how that has to do with being in love but our society was dictated by dissimilarity and divisions and my parents’ viewpoint was not uncommon. To shut them up, I just told them that we’re just dating and not getting married. We were not in this relationship just to have fun, I knew that but I couldn’t argue about that with them. As I’d hope they would, they rested their case…for the time being.
All the same, I had a hard time convincing them to let me go back to India. I was genuinely thankful they didn’t know about the news for it will surely diminish the tiniest chance of changing their minds. Still, it took me 3 months to persuade them and a whole deal of scheming. It was about just enough time, though, to bury the blasted airport pictures and acquire a much longer visa.
I stopped myself from thinking about it. It wouldn’t do me any good to be a worry wart. I was there already and those issues wouldn’t have to bother us. Amon appeared not to notice that I got distracted for a while, though.
“Is it safe to say I’m past the hardest phase?” he inquired.
“You wish! You’re just in the beginning, babe.” I notified him.
He shook his head. “It’s so unfair that I have to go under everyone’s inspection and you haven’t been under a single one.”
Leaning closer, I squinted and crossed my arms. “How could it be unfair when I faced all the inquisitions for you? And it isn’t my fault I met your family first before you realized you like me.”
“But you have to meet mama soon. I already told her stuffs about you so don’t be surprised if she seemed to know things.”
We were entering a hotel driveway but I totally didn’t notice. I was already busy with racing thoughts about I and his mum’s meeting. Somehow, it felt dreadful to finally meet her. I had no background whatsoever of how she was but Amon’s own words and I couldn’t help thinking of the boyfriend’s mothers in the dramas and movies. It made me feel unsettled.
Amon stopped the car. We were in front of a hotel. He got out of the car as a valet took his car keys and another one opened my door.
“What are we doing here?” I thought for a second that we would eat inside. But the concierge didn’t have to take out my luggage for us to do that. I told Amon to arrange where I would be staying since I hadn’t got the time to look for available flats. It seemed that we had a misunderstanding when I said ‘unit’. He thought of a suite while I meant a flat.
“This is where you’re going to stay.” He confirmed my thoughts.
“I meant an apartment unit.”
“I know. But I thought it would be better for you to stay in a hotel. It would be a lot safer and the staffs here are really great so you wouldn’t have to worry.”
We reached the front desk and the receptionist stood up to greet us. I held Amon’s arm to stop him.
“I’m sure they are the best but I prepared for a flat. I didn’t think of a hotel accommodation for my stay.” I gave the waiting receptionist who could hear us a brief smile and a nod so she wouldn’t think that I would prefer another hotel.
“If you’re worried of the expenses I’m going to cover it.”
“No.” I firmly told him. He realized that I was getting more displeased by the moment. After gesturing to the receptionist, he drew me away. “Babe…”
“I’m not your kept woman, Amon.”
Rubbing my arms to soothe me, he gently explained, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s really for your safety. I won’t feel at ease if I’m not sure that you’re in somewhere protected. I don’t know anywhere else that’s safe and discreet unless you'll stay with us. But judging from your reaction, that's not a very good idea. But whatever may happen, I know that in here, paparazzi’s can’t get pass the door easily. We have a suite here and it’s one of dad’s get away from the media. I spend some days in here too and I can fairly say they do their jobs well. I didn’t mean to offend you when I said that.”
I had to admit it was reasonable and I couldn’t insist on what I was used to. I subsequently agreed that I would be a subject to any of what he had been enduring his whole life when I became his girlfriend. But I had my pride too.
“Fine, but I will choose my own accommodation and I will pay.” I jutted my chin defiantly.
He tried to smother a grin in respect for my vanity but he still asked, “Are you sure?”
“Sure. I can make adjustments.” I certainly hoped I could.
Amon drew me closer and planted a kiss on my temple. He whispered, “I’m sorry…”
I knew he wasn’t only sorry for our misunderstanding but for him being who he was. I put my arms around his middle and hugged him tight. “I know its different now but I can cope well.”
The receptionist modestly observed Zuma Kahn’s son and who she knew now as the girl in the news with him three months ago. The girl seemed to be upset about something and she’d been trying to guess what it was. She looked like an indulged kid when they entered the entrance but she didn’t feel the impatient tolerance the socialite brats commonly gave the working class when she smiled to her and gave her a courteous nod. She also looked so cute standing in front of Amon Kahn who she just noticed was a very handsome young man. She was used to seeing his gangly frame but he was mostly looking at his feet. There shouldn't be a surprise there though, since he was the son of one of the most handsome faces in Bollywood. His girlfriend's small built and his lean physique matched well and if they ever thought of gracing one of his dad’s productions, they would surely make a sensational hit. On second thought, they wouldn't have to be in a movie to draw attention. They did it very well just standing in the middle of the hotel lobby. And they seemed to resolve whatever disagreement they had. The girl was grinning, pulling Amon behind her.
“Hello,” the girl said and her pretty smile was there again. “I believe that Mr. Kahn made some arrangements for a suite. I’m sorry to be an inconvenience but I would like to make some changes on the accommodation and the payment. I would like it to be transferred to my account and I badly need your help on choosing a good room. Would that be okay?”
Understanding now what the argument was about and liking how the girl decided for herself, the receptionist gave her an equally bright smile and said, “I’m glad to be of service.”
Girlfriend. Wow. A big word for Amon Kahn. He never really gave his love life a serious thought although, as any normal guy, he also had his share of fantasies and desires towards the gentler sex brought about by puberty. But he never set his ideal type or certain desirable traits for a girlfriend.
It was when he saw her that he realized he was into petite and cute faces. He had always been surrounded by tall, stunning and elegant women his whole life but he never thought of them as attractive as he thought Kara was. It was even wonderful that they connected so much intellectually which for him was more important than the physical attraction he felt. It fueled the simple admiration he initially had but it was her energy that got him. She was a different world and she was so colorful he couldn't resist the pull to fall.
He couldn't stand still while he waited for her in the airport. He was oblivious to the stares from the people waiting with him: some for mere curiosity for his anxiousness, others for being intrigued by his looks.
And finally, there she was. He had to take a deep breath when she emerged from the gate. Her long dark and wavy mane were sexily rumpled while she dragged her luggage behind her. Her searching eyes were covered by oversized aviators, while her unzipped hoodie reached her thighs and fell from her right shoulder. Beneath it, she wore black tank top and leggings. She loved those clothes that bury her small frame and made her look smaller. Thankfully her bright sneakers were of the right size but nonetheless completed the whole ensemble. And then she found him.
I was looking for a tall guy with dark brown hair that curls on his nape in a polo shirt wearing eyeglasses. I didn't see him. Instead, I saw a broad shouldered man in a plain white shirt with a very sexy short hair wearing the same glasses I was looking for.
"You cut your hair!" He beamed at me when I came running towards him but his smile turned into a frown when he heard it and self-consciously touched his new cut.
"Is it bad?" He told me later that he went to his barber on impulse the day after I confirmed my flight to Mumbai. He hadn't change his hair cut for quite a while and he thought it was time to make the change since it was actually changing drastically anyway.
"Bad? I don't see anything bad on how you look! And here I am, looking like a trash bin. I hate you!" As I was still wearing my aviators and drooping sweater, I pouted at him like a 5 year old would.
I should have looked so adorable to him (most probably, translated as "I wish") he forgot he promised himself no more PDA's when I arrive and draw me close by my wrist and removed my sun glasses. Sliding his hand behind my neck, he dipped down to put a slow, welcome back kiss on my pout.
We both had little experience on that department. Our kisses were our proper ones (well, at least for me) and I'd like to think we were getting better and better at it. However, Amon was one step ahead of me.
The girls he had brief flings with were always the first one to initiate and all those lack the ardor and enthusiasm on his part--- according to him to which I wasn't so inclined to agree--- but nonetheless taught him. With us, he was always the one to start. I wasn't complaining though! ^^
The kiss went down nicely from my fluttering stomach, warming me all the way down to my toes. Infinitely enchanted, I put my arms around his neck as his snaked to my back, forgetting the world around us again. We both looked dazed when we finally pulled away.
Amon touched his forehead to mine, not letting go.
"I've missed this beautiful trash bin more than anyone else could."
"I don't think so. I missed you more." He didn't protest but only fixed his gaze on me.
I loved the color of his eyes from the first time I'd seen it. But they were the most beautiful when it darkens like how he looked at me now. It changed the impression he gave; from shy and intellectual to sensual and smoldering. And I'd be seeing a lot of it now that I had come back. However, I wanted it all for myself. I had no idea how I managed to notice the funny looks the other girls were giving MY BOYFRIEND in the lobby.
"But you have to stop being sweet before I lose a boyfriend or I lose my temper." I pulled his hand and my luggage to the exit away from his audience.
Amon was still not aware of the turning heads even as we reached his car. I couldn't decide if I should be annoyed with him or be happy that he was so ignorant of his own effect. But something else caught my attention.
"New car?" I asked him.
He nodded nonchalantly and opened the door for me after putting my bag on the compartment. "My graduation gift."
"Cool! But don't you know any other color?" The interior was superb, though. They wouldn't know how to do things half way.
"Dad bought it. You saw the cars at his house." I remembered it and I smiled. All of them were black, even the motorcycle.
He felt ridiculous when he sat at the driver's seat of his luxury car. He drove his dad's cars since he learned how to and could relish the opportunity of finally going out without a driver but that was different from owning one. When he looked at himself on the mirror that morning, he also felt ridiculous. In fact, he had been feeling absurd lately. He was not the same unassuming, unsure old Amon he used to be. He started looking at himself, finally discovering what people have been telling him for years. He knew he looked like his dad but he couldn't project what his dad could easily show to people and what made him the superstar in Bollywood; the easy, self-contained charm. He was feeling ridiculous but he also felt smug on how things turned out.
I adjusted the lever for the front seat as I always did and stretched languidly before curling my legs, facing him.
He was watching me. I knew he had a thought on his mind from the way his face became pensive. He had always been a thinker. He had changed though but not a lot. I thought and feared he would be a different person from who I thought he was when I would come back. But the only change I noticed was the way he carry himself. It seemed that he had developed the confidence that eluded him for a long time. He still looked serious but there was no more slouching and he didn't avert anyone's stare anymore but casually breezed by them much to my amazement.
I raised my eyebrow at him instead of asking what was on his mind.
She certainly didn't have an idea how she brought changes into his life. “You should tell me now how you told your parents about us.”
“I didn’t tell them. Honey did. She tried to make it easy for me.”
“And?”
“It didn’t work." I snorted. "They had a lot of questions! It was the very reason why I have to tell them in person. I’ll never get away with a telephone call. My Dad doesn’t usually pry on this things but he did boil me like one of his suspects.”
My Dad was a government investigator and every inch of a typical Dad. Erase that. He was much more protective and probing because of the nature of his work. My Mum was a journalist, on the other hand, so you could just imagine the rest. They asked me questions I never even thought of asking but only made me more aware that I didn’t know Amon as much as I wanted myself to believe.
“What sorts of questions did they ask?” Amon wanted to know. I told him I’d tell him all about my parent’s reaction when I get back to India as he kept on bugging me about it on his every call. It just showed me how he cared about my family’s feelings. His family values were never so cleared to me since then.
“My Dad asked about your criminal records.”
I was thrown forward when he suddenly stepped on the brakes. It didn’t occur to me that I forgot to put on my seatbelt again. Thankfully, I put my arm out on time.
“What???” He looked both appalled and frightened when he turned to me.
“What was that for???” He was a careful driver. I had total confidence in him, except that day.
“Sorry…” he mumbled.
We were in the middle of the road but he unbuckled his seatbelt to fasten mine. He took his time to make sure I was properly bundled up before stepping on the gas, promptly ignoring the wild honks from the car line behind us.
“He asked about my criminal records?” he sounded bewildered. We were well on our way again like nothing happened and no drivers passing us making rude gestures.
“Yeah. How should I know, right?” I said.
“And you even considered I have one! I can’t believe this!” He raised his hands into the air and slapped it down on the steering wheel.
Of course I didn’t but he was too occupied to notice that I was just jesting until I laughed.
He gave me a pointed look and said, “I’m serious, you know.”
“You always are. Anyway, I told him you’re as pure as holy water and you couldn’t possibly hurt a fly.” This time, he shook his head and tried not to be amused.
“What did your Mum ask?”
“Mum asks all sorts of things, it was like filling in a bio data. Name, Nationality, Status, Religion, Occupation, Names of Parents and their occupations and such. In the end, I said I’ll make you fill in one.”
He chuckled and glanced at me adoringly, bobbing his head.
I may have made it sound so easy but truth be told, it was an interrogation. My Mum panicked when she took grasp that I was dating a celebrity’s son. Due to her work, she knew a lot about celebrity schemes and I told her it was Bollywood so probably it would be different. She said Hollywood or Bollywood, show business is all the same. Whether one is an actor, a singer or a relation, it doesn’t make a difference. My Dad, being as astute as he was picked out one aspect from my Mum’s bio data questions and made his own point: religion.
Amon and I talked a lot but we never touched that subject. Maybe we both had the understanding that we shouldn’t talk about something we would never agree on. But that concern, along with a few more flew out the window when we decided to change our status, so abruptly and so carelessly. For once in our lives we stopped being cerebral and listened to what our hearts told us. I never regretted it and I know he never did too but some things were not meant to be ignored especially when it involved the people we love and love us.
I learned in the internet that his dad was a Muslim by religion but was not a religious person and didn’t practice what people call a devoted Muslim life. His mum was Hindu and it was suspected to be one of the reasons why they divorced. Mr Zuma said that he and his wives (ex and current) never tackled their religious differences but made clear that his children would only follow the Muslim customs.
Yes, Amon was Muslim and I was Christian. I couldn’t see how that has to do with being in love but our society was dictated by dissimilarity and divisions and my parents’ viewpoint was not uncommon. To shut them up, I just told them that we’re just dating and not getting married. We were not in this relationship just to have fun, I knew that but I couldn’t argue about that with them. As I’d hope they would, they rested their case…for the time being.
All the same, I had a hard time convincing them to let me go back to India. I was genuinely thankful they didn’t know about the news for it will surely diminish the tiniest chance of changing their minds. Still, it took me 3 months to persuade them and a whole deal of scheming. It was about just enough time, though, to bury the blasted airport pictures and acquire a much longer visa.
I stopped myself from thinking about it. It wouldn’t do me any good to be a worry wart. I was there already and those issues wouldn’t have to bother us. Amon appeared not to notice that I got distracted for a while, though.
“Is it safe to say I’m past the hardest phase?” he inquired.
“You wish! You’re just in the beginning, babe.” I notified him.
He shook his head. “It’s so unfair that I have to go under everyone’s inspection and you haven’t been under a single one.”
Leaning closer, I squinted and crossed my arms. “How could it be unfair when I faced all the inquisitions for you? And it isn’t my fault I met your family first before you realized you like me.”
“But you have to meet mama soon. I already told her stuffs about you so don’t be surprised if she seemed to know things.”
We were entering a hotel driveway but I totally didn’t notice. I was already busy with racing thoughts about I and his mum’s meeting. Somehow, it felt dreadful to finally meet her. I had no background whatsoever of how she was but Amon’s own words and I couldn’t help thinking of the boyfriend’s mothers in the dramas and movies. It made me feel unsettled.
Amon stopped the car. We were in front of a hotel. He got out of the car as a valet took his car keys and another one opened my door.
“What are we doing here?” I thought for a second that we would eat inside. But the concierge didn’t have to take out my luggage for us to do that. I told Amon to arrange where I would be staying since I hadn’t got the time to look for available flats. It seemed that we had a misunderstanding when I said ‘unit’. He thought of a suite while I meant a flat.
“This is where you’re going to stay.” He confirmed my thoughts.
“I meant an apartment unit.”
“I know. But I thought it would be better for you to stay in a hotel. It would be a lot safer and the staffs here are really great so you wouldn’t have to worry.”
We reached the front desk and the receptionist stood up to greet us. I held Amon’s arm to stop him.
“I’m sure they are the best but I prepared for a flat. I didn’t think of a hotel accommodation for my stay.” I gave the waiting receptionist who could hear us a brief smile and a nod so she wouldn’t think that I would prefer another hotel.
“If you’re worried of the expenses I’m going to cover it.”
“No.” I firmly told him. He realized that I was getting more displeased by the moment. After gesturing to the receptionist, he drew me away. “Babe…”
“I’m not your kept woman, Amon.”
Rubbing my arms to soothe me, he gently explained, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s really for your safety. I won’t feel at ease if I’m not sure that you’re in somewhere protected. I don’t know anywhere else that’s safe and discreet unless you'll stay with us. But judging from your reaction, that's not a very good idea. But whatever may happen, I know that in here, paparazzi’s can’t get pass the door easily. We have a suite here and it’s one of dad’s get away from the media. I spend some days in here too and I can fairly say they do their jobs well. I didn’t mean to offend you when I said that.”
I had to admit it was reasonable and I couldn’t insist on what I was used to. I subsequently agreed that I would be a subject to any of what he had been enduring his whole life when I became his girlfriend. But I had my pride too.
“Fine, but I will choose my own accommodation and I will pay.” I jutted my chin defiantly.
He tried to smother a grin in respect for my vanity but he still asked, “Are you sure?”
“Sure. I can make adjustments.” I certainly hoped I could.
Amon drew me closer and planted a kiss on my temple. He whispered, “I’m sorry…”
I knew he wasn’t only sorry for our misunderstanding but for him being who he was. I put my arms around his middle and hugged him tight. “I know its different now but I can cope well.”
The receptionist modestly observed Zuma Kahn’s son and who she knew now as the girl in the news with him three months ago. The girl seemed to be upset about something and she’d been trying to guess what it was. She looked like an indulged kid when they entered the entrance but she didn’t feel the impatient tolerance the socialite brats commonly gave the working class when she smiled to her and gave her a courteous nod. She also looked so cute standing in front of Amon Kahn who she just noticed was a very handsome young man. She was used to seeing his gangly frame but he was mostly looking at his feet. There shouldn't be a surprise there though, since he was the son of one of the most handsome faces in Bollywood. His girlfriend's small built and his lean physique matched well and if they ever thought of gracing one of his dad’s productions, they would surely make a sensational hit. On second thought, they wouldn't have to be in a movie to draw attention. They did it very well just standing in the middle of the hotel lobby. And they seemed to resolve whatever disagreement they had. The girl was grinning, pulling Amon behind her.
“Hello,” the girl said and her pretty smile was there again. “I believe that Mr. Kahn made some arrangements for a suite. I’m sorry to be an inconvenience but I would like to make some changes on the accommodation and the payment. I would like it to be transferred to my account and I badly need your help on choosing a good room. Would that be okay?”
Understanding now what the argument was about and liking how the girl decided for herself, the receptionist gave her an equally bright smile and said, “I’m glad to be of service.”