One Indian Girl by Chetan Bhagat

‘What are you thinking?’ Debu said. He snapped his fingers, as I didn’t respond.
‘Huh? Oh, nothing. Just nervous about my new assignment, I guess.’
How can a girl admit she is thinking about kissing? Isn’t that what super-sluts do?
‘Relax. You can crack anything. You are really smart. One of the smartest people I’ve met.’ I
looked at him.
Wow, a man who acknowledges a woman’s smartness. Now I want to kiss him even more. Are
you going to make a move, Debu? Or will you keep eating that shrimp cocktail in the martini
glass?
I brought my legs close and enjoyed their smoothness against each other. Debu, make the right
moves, and you could be a really happy man tonight.
‘Distressed debt. Sounds scary, though,’ Debu said.
How do I change the topic from distressed debt to my amazingly waxed legs? I couldn’t. I
drained my champagne glass.
‘It is,’ I said. ‘You have to negotiate with hard-nosed business owners. They sometimes refuse
to pay the bank. You have to seize properties. Squeeze out value.’
‘Wow,’ Debu said. ‘Doesn’t sound like a regular banker on a desk job.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Also, there are hardly any women in the team. It’s a man’s job.’
‘What nonsense,’ Debu said. ‘Why can’t a woman do it? They are better negotiators.’
I like this man. A lot. Go on, Debu.
He continued, ‘It’s all this bullshit men spread. To scare women out of a role or position. Fact
is, men are shit-scared of talented women like you.’
‘Thanks, Debu.’
Okay, I had a challenge bigger than distressed debt tonight. I had to ensure Debu made a move,
so some naughtiness could happen. Of course, because I am a woman, I somehow also had to pretend
to be innocent, as if I had no role to play in making anything happen. I had to steer him without him
realizing he had been steered.
The waiter brought us our final course of codfish served with miso sauce.
‘Wow,’ Debu said as he took a bite, ‘best fish I have ever tasted. In fact, maybe the best thing I
have ever tasted.’
‘Yeah. Well, there’s still dessert, save the best for the last,’ I said.
Was that double meaning? Fuck, don’t slutify yourself.
He laughed. Did he get the reference?
‘You know Bongs and mishti,’ he said. No, he didn’t. Be careful. Always give out a chaste
good-Indian-girl vibe.
‘How’s work?’ I said.
‘It’s great. Under Armor account is almost in,’ he said and crossed his fingers.
‘I am sure it will come in,’ I said.
‘It will be my first big win. My boss said if I get it I get promoted to senior creative
associate.’
‘That sounds a lot cooler than distressed debt associate.’
He laughed.
‘You get the bucks. That’s cool enough,’ he said.
Somehow I never wanted to discuss the money I made with Debu. I had to shift the topic back
to him.
‘Under Armor is a cutting-edge brand. I saw their store yesterday. Great stuff,’ I said.