The Last Storyteller (First Edition) | Page 36

Ahmad was lost in thought when Reshma stopped and called him over. “This is my neighborhood,” she said. “I’ll not be fined here. No one will say anything. We pay money for silence. Give me your hand and let me show you my world.” Clasping Reshma's soft hand, Ahmad slipped into the crowded streets of the darkly exotic Heera Mandi, the city’s oldest red light district. The night pulsed with color, odors and sounds-- the secrets of the flesh offered like low-hanging fruit among endless bartering. The drone of conversation and shrill laughter pierced his ears. Reshma navigated the crowded streets, throwing mocking smiles at girls who still waited to find customers. At last, she turned into a narrow side street and stopped at a modest house near the end. “This is my home,” she said, leading Ahmad inside, into a tiny, sparsely furnished sitting room. “Please wait here.” Ahmad settled onto a tattered sofa covered with an embroidered cloth. A few moments later, an elderly woman silently brought him a steaming cup of mint tea. Ahmad accepted the tea with some embarrassment. He had managed to get through his day without having the dreaded tea with Devan. No one in that place expected him to fake a story, but he still didn’t feel like himself. It had never occurred to him to come to such a place. Yet the depression and loneliness suffocating him began to lift, and despite himself, he felt aroused at the thought of sleeping with Reshma. He took off his jacket, suddenly remembering he hadn’t opened Neelum’s email. What would she think if she knew...? Was she really going to break it off with him? Maybe he was going about things in the wrong way. Maybe he should stand up to Devan for a change, borrow some of Reshma’s confidence. Neelum would approve. But why did I need her approval? And why did money matter to her so much? Why couldn’t she see him through a different lens? He was so embroiled in disturbing thoughts; he almost didn't notice Reshma reappear. He glanced up, and was stunned. She was now wearing a snug, silky red one-strap top and tight black leggings. “You are beautiful, Reshma,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her. “Thank you," she said, reaching out to caress his hair. “I’m yours for two hours.” Ahmad glanced at her ruby red lips and dropped his gaze, mumbling, “I haven’t done anything like this before.” Reshma sat down and embrassed him. Ahmad inhaled her spicy fragrance, savoring the sensation of her body next to his, when a sharp knock on the door leading to the other room interrupted. Without saying a word, Reshma sprang up and darted from the room, closing the door behind her. Page | 36