Just then, Priya turned her smile upon him, proffering the dish of prawn curry. When he refused, she enthusiastically ladled some curry onto her own plate, watched with pleasure by his mother. The enjoyment of the food that was reflected on Priya’s face was quite genuine. His mother was a good cook. But still, there was that indefinable something about Priya that made it difficult for Abhi to like her. He believed in first impressions.
It was about six o’clock when Priya shut her book and said, “I should go home now. It’s getting late.”
“Okay.” Zahi hoped she hadn’t sounded too eager, as she accompanied Priya to the landing. But as Priya stepped into the elevator cage, Zahi caught sight of her woebegone expression. Before she could stop herself, she called out, “See you tomorrow?”
Priya
