Dually Devoted ✓

Chapter 8

After the waitress showed them their table and left them with a menu each, Arpita's eyes started to wander around, her fingers not leaving her hair, as she nervously played with them. She observed the dim lighting and glamorous decor of the place. The textured walls weren't of dull colors, but were carefully chosen to not be blinding. The wooden flooring suited the grandeur and added a warmth. Slight aroma of different cuisines hit her nostrils. There were also outdoor tables available, for moonlit dinner experience. Though there weren't many customers at the moment, the place was far from empty.

She was mutely thankfully that the restaurant had pretty good Indian choices on their menu. Having had less chances of tasting different cuisines, she often didn't back down from trying something new. But. For dinner, she preferred Indian food, if not homemade. To her, who hadn't had the privilege of tasting her mother's cooking, her country's food was home food.

When the waitress arrived, they both ordered Indian cuisine and that made her a little comfortable.

"Well, isn't it just sad that because of the promotion, you can't be nominated for the best employee this year?" He lifted his brow. He had heard a group of people speaking about it this morning.

She smiled widely, something that could take his breath away, "It doesn't matter, Sir. Plus, there are so many who work just as hard. I was just fortunate to be recognized." She shrugged it off, her voice sincere.

He was surprised at her reply. "That's just you being humble, Arpita," he said with a serious tone. "Luck can bring success once. Twice. Thrice?! Not really." He shook his head a little.

"And yet, I had to prove myself, Sir, to get the promotion," she teased him, not really in an accusing tone.

His eyebrows arched at her statement, the tiredness in him long gone. "...The award doesn't define anyone's worth. It's the other way around, isn't it?" He pressed.

She grinned. "Of course, Sir," she nodded.

Soon, the waitress arrived with the dishes and served them.

He rolled his sleeves up to his elbow and started to eat. She had to tear her eyes away from him. He looked different, she noted, Good different. With his sleeves rolled up, he seemed more relaxed and somehow the aura that screamed 'I'm the boss here' left him. He looked more ogle-worthy. She bit the inside of her mouth, her eyes widening slightly at her thoughts. She silently decided to focus on the food on her plate instead. The aroma pulled her in instantly and she began eating.

"How's the food?" He asked, not really liking the silence compared to the conversation they were having before.

What am I doing? He wasn't really a person who would choose to speak first constantly. Girls liked to talk and he mostly listened. That's how it had always been. Not that this is a date or anything, he told himself, as he put a piece of roti, and keema- minced meat cooked with Indian spices- into his mouth.

"... It's good, Sir." Personally, I prefer more spice.

"Then why don't you add some black pepper?"

I said that out loud! I'm definitely sleepy. "I don't usually do that. It tastes pretty fine, anyway..." she trailed off, shrugging, not knowing how to explain that she simply didn't like adding spice to food while eating.

"That's a- weird reason."

She simply chuckled at his comment, getting back to her food. He noticed, it wasn't a soft or shy chuckle. Nor was it the egoistic, or the melodies one. However, it was genuine. A sincere expression of amusement. And to him, that was sexy. A sudden gush of desire overwhelmed him, as his eyes lingered on her luscious lips longer than it probably should, a tender longing filling his gaze. He wanted to kiss her that very moment.