even discuss it in the morning meeting.’
‘Oh, okay,’ I said.
‘I need an associate on the deal. Would you like to be on it?’
The prospect of more work in my current exhausted state made me feel even more tired.
However, to be in a confidential deal and work with a partner meant a lot.
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘What’s the timing?’
‘You finish the bid. Then I will brief you. We’ll also need to meet the company people.’
‘Sure. What sector is it?’
‘I’ll tell you. Real soon. Bye now. And get out of here fast,’ he said.
What the hell, I said to myself. Debu had unfriended me on Facebook. For the first time in Hong Kong
I had finished work early and come back to my hotel at 5 p.m. The team had liked my final
presentation on the portfolio. We had submitted a bid for fourteen cents on the dollar for the loans.
Exhausted, I had been looking forward to a calm evening in the hotel and a good long sleep.
However, I made the mistake of opening my laptop and logging on to Facebook. Like an idiot, I
searched for Debashish Sen’s profile. I couldn’t find him on my friends’ list.
Damn. I typed his name for the third time. Yes, he had unfriended me. I could understand why.
Actually, I could not understand why. I wasn’t some stalking witch who would cast an evil eye on his
posts and pictures. Sure, we had broken up. People break up. They don’t have to vanish like this.
I didn’t have his phone number anymore. I had deleted all his previous emails. I felt like
calling Avinash to ask for Debu’s contacts again. I stopped myself and turned on the TV instead. Most
of the channels were in Chinese. One channel showed a soap opera. I couldn’t understand one word.
However, I saw a girl on the screen cry, probably for her lost love. I don’t know what it triggered in
me, but I joined her. I clutched my pillow tight and cried. I had resisted this so perfectly for weeks.
Ever since I came to Hong Kong I had buried myself in work. I thought I had made great progress with
my break-up. Now I was back to square one.
Why did he unfriend me? I cried even more. I switched off the hotel room lights, opened the
minibar and found little whisky and vodka bottles. I drank four of them, bottoms up, and lay down in
bed. My head hurt as it sifted through images of Debu. Will I ever get over him?
I closed my eyes. I slept, or passed out, as weeks of sleep deprivation caught up with me.
I woke up as my phone rang. I had a bad headache. I opened one eye and saw the caller. It was
Neel.
Damn. Damn. Damn. I switched on the light, ran into the bathroom and splashed water on my
face. Only then did I pick up the call.
‘Hello?’ I said, my voice unclear.
‘Sorry, were you sleeping? Is it too late?’ Neel said.
I checked the time. It was only 8.30 p.m.
‘No, no. Just took a nap. I am sorry. I left office early today.’
‘You deserve the rest. Sorry to wake you up.’
‘It’s fine. I needed to anyway.’
Focus, Radhika. It’s a partner on the line.