Uncharted (Jersey Girls Book 3) Read online

  “Of course I was. What would I do without my little sister around here? Who'd sneak out for prosecco at lunchtime with me? Who would brush my hair when I was feeling down? Who else would allow me to take them clothes shopping and listen to my advice? Claire and Maureen are such wardrobe prudes. I need you here, Nan. I don’t want you to leave.” Nandita put her coffee on the floor to give Sally a big hug. “Hey, watch my coffee! If I spill it on this silk blouse, believe me, you’re outta here! I’ll put you on the plane, myself—United Airlines style.”

  “I never imagined I wouldn’t get into Princeton, Sal. I don’t mean to harp on it, but I’m struggling to get over it. What did I do wrong?”

  “Listen, those dudes are nuts if they don’t want you. If you ask me, you should sic Satish on them. Doesn’t he know people? Surely he could straighten them out.”

  “I don’t want to do it that way, Sal—I want to do it by myself. The only thing I have ever asked of Satish is to sponsor me for a visa and look how that went.”

  “Yeah, well, I have my own opinion on that debacle, but I also know my opinion’s not welcome, so I will keep my mouth shut.” Sally picked up Nandita’s coffee and handed it to her. “So, I have a plan.”

  She had heard a lot about Sally’s plans in the past: they tended not to turn out so well. Claire would have a heart attack if she knew Sally was discussing this with her, but Nandita was desperate and needed all the help she could get. “And?”

  “After all my research last night, I found out there are only two viable ways for you to stay here, right?” Nandita nodded, surprised Sally had gotten that far. “First, you could get a work visa, but your chances of that are close to nil. No company is going to sponsor a recent college grad.” Nandita’s face turned white, and Sally jumped in immediately, “Well, maybe it could happen. Just not likely, right? I mean, you're really smart—you could…”

  Nandita put her hand up to ward off Sally’s embarrassed backtracking. “Stop, Sal; it’s fine. It’s just that it’s the only plan I’ve been working on. I thought it was a good one, too. Tell me the rest.”

  “You need to find a husband.”

  Nandita laughed. “Yeah, I saw that, Sal—a green card husband. I have a major problem with that, though: I don’t know any men. You know what I’ve been like these past few years. I don’t date, I study.”

  There was a loud knock on the door and they both looked up to see Claire peering through the window. She had a huge bag slung over her shoulders and her hands were full with a large box—hopefully donuts. She smiled and gestured toward her boutique with her head.

  Sally waved to Claire and then turned to whisper to Nandita, “Trust me I have a great plan. I know how to get you a husband. I’ll call you later. Don’t tell Claire!”

  Sally got up and hustled out of the shop to head next door. Nandita sighed and got up to follow. Sally was certifiably nuts if she thought she'd be able to find a man, fall in love with him, and get him to fall in love with her within the next sixty days. Sally's comments on her job possibilities had made her feel a little panicky, as well. There had to be a company that would hire her and give her a visa. She was just going to have to step up her efforts.

  8

  Claire – The Dress

  Claire adjusted the sleeve on the gown and gazed at herself in the mirror in her dressing room. She could hear the girls on the other side of the velvet curtain calling for her to hurry, but she wanted these few moments to herself. She looked like a bride. Who would have imagined that Satish’s gift of this sumptuous fabric from so many years before would be the first thing to make her upcoming marriage feel like reality?

  She smiled at the thought of Satish’s expression as she walked down the aisle toward him. She never questioned his feelings for her, and she could just look into his dark eyes and see his adoration. He would love this gown.

  Claire had transformed the abundant bolts of antique, ivory fabric into an homage to the merging of their two cultures. A traditional wedding sari was red and made of two pieces, along with a pallu, a flowing bolt of fabric taken from the rear of the skirt and draped and twisted across the shoulders. Claire had wanted to pay tribute to the beauty of the embroidery alone, so she had created a simple ball gown skirt without the pallu. The intricate top was her favorite, though. She had cut it in the shape of a sari top, similar to a scoop neck t-shirt, tailored to the body and cut just above the navel, and had then used her beading skills to sew on thousands of cultured pearls. The top was weighty, and she wondered how she would survive the July heat, but it would be worth it with her voluminous, ivory veil on a matching pearl headband.

  She prepared herself for the reaction of her best friends. Would they like it? Their approval was vital. Sally had been her rock most of her life; she couldn’t imagine going through this experience without her. She had initially bonded with Maureen over a shared traumatic experience, but their friendship had continued to blossom over the past five years. Of course, she was thrilled that her little sister, Nandita, could be with them all before she had to return to India. It was going to be a special day.

  Claire stepped from behind the curtain.

  “Oh my God,” Sally gasped with a sob. Maureen and Nandita were silent, but the size of their eyes made Claire giggle and get a little teary-eyed.

  “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful,” Maureen said before promptly bursting into tears. Sally pulled an extra Kleenex out of the box she was holding and scooted closer to Maureen, who threw her arm around the woman’s shoulder as they shared a look and laughed at each other.

  Nandita, mesmerized, moved toward Claire like a robot. “Oh my goodness, Claire,” she said as she gently picked up the edge of the flowing ball gown and lifted it, exposing more of the delicate embroidery. “You’re like an angel. My brother is such a lucky man.” Now she was crying, too.

  Sally had made an effort to mop up her tears, but her face was streaked with makeup. “Group hug!” she yelled, and all three moved toward Claire and the gown.

  Claire stumbled over the hem as she stepped back in a rush to avoid runny mascara. “No!” she squealed, laughing now. “Get away from me with those mascara tears! You’re going to ruin the dress before the wedding even starts!”

  “Oh my God,” Maureen said, holding her hands out to stop the progress of her friends, “do not get anything on that gown! Take it off!”

  Claire hustled back into the dressing room and gently wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She had purposefully not worn any makeup today, knowing this bunch would get her started.

  “Do you need me to do the buttons again?” Nandita called. Claire had her come into the dressing room with her eyes closed to button the top earlier. Now she needed Nandita to help with the unbuttoning, or she would be stuck in this gown all night.

  “Yes please, but wash your hands first!”

  With the gown hanging carefully in a garment bag in the back of the store where Satish was unlikely to go, they could dig into the donuts. Claire had made sure the selection included a few blackberry jam-filled options for Sally, who now had an extended smile from the jam creeping up both corners of her mouth. She'd already eaten two.

  “You know, you still eat donuts the same way you ate them when we were eleven years old,” Claire laughed and handed Sally another tissue from the quickly depleting stash.

  “I freaking love donuts,” Sally said. “They are the only living things that truly understand me.”

  “They aren’t living,” Maureen chimed in, “and we understand you. So does Tod.”

  Sally rolled her eyes and Nandita gave Claire a sharp look she took as a cue to speak up. “Is everything okay with you guys?” she asked, putting her half-eaten donut back in the box. She had never been one for sweets.

  “Me and Tod? Of course! It’s just that… I don’t know, he’s getting weird lately. Something seems off.”

  “Off? What do you mean?” Maureen asked.

  “You know,” Sally said. �
�Don’t you and Stephen have off days?”

  Maureen laughed and reached into the box for Claire’s leftover donut. “Do we have off days? Only every other day! We work together, remember?” A few years ago, Stephen had sold his half of his very successful company, promptly moved into Maureen’s tiny, studio apartment in Hoboken, and started another company. He had persuaded her to quit her job at Telco and work with him as a systems developer. The company had some early success with a few productivity apps for the iPhone and now they were moving into custom app development for large corporations.

  Stephen was about the most laid back, everyday guy you could ever meet, but he was loaded. The Hoboken gang had enjoyed more than their fair share of decadent vacations at Water’s Edge, his oceanfront home in the Bahamas.

  “Well, if you and Stephen are an example of off days, then those days must be good for a relationship,” Claire said. “Maybe I should get Satish to piss me off more often.”

  Nandita scoffed and powdered sugar exploded from her mouth. “You can be me for a few days, if you’d like,” she said. “He’d piss you off, then.” Claire laughed and fondly bumped her shoulder against the young woman’s.

  “I mean, it’s not like we haven’t had an amazing marriage so far,” Sally said. “It’s just that I feel like he’s mad at me about something and I’m too dumb to know what it is.”

  “You can be a bit bossy, Sal,” Nandita chimed in, the only one would who could get away with saying such a thing to Sally. “Maybe let him have his way once in a way.”

  Sally looked scandalized. “I have always let him have his way,” she said. The group burst into laughter and Maureen almost fell backward off her stool. Sally looked at them in surprise. “What? I have!”

  Claire nodded. “Mmhmm. Like the wedding.”

  Tod had been, and continued to be, completely smitten with Sally. He was a scream-it-from-the-rooftops, jump-on-Oprah’s-couch kind of guy and had wanted a huge, elaborate wedding to show off Sally and his mad, passionate love to at least four hundred family and friends. Sally had booked the city hall, though, insisting that a big wedding would take too much time and attention when his gallery had just started taking off. Tod had caved and the city hall wedding had been lovely, intimate, and blissful, but Claire still saw Tod look at her wistfully when she talked about her wedding plans.

  “He loved the wedding!” Sally said defensively. “You all loved the wedding! I threw a great wedding.” She was pouting now as she reached for another donut.

  Claire cocked an eyebrow—Sally’s natural sweet tooth had become insatiable lately and she always had candy in her mouth. She must have been stressed. Claire felt guilty for not noticing before. She had been so overwhelmed with the wedding and the Nandita crisis that she hadn’t even noticed her friend’s struggle.

  She climbed off her stool and gave Sally a hug. “Of course it was a magnificent wedding,” she said, “and I’m sure everything is fine with Tod. You both seem a little stressed lately with everything going on. Maybe slow down on work for a while?”

  Sally grunted and stuffed the rest of the third donut into her mouth. She gestured toward Nandita and, through her full mouth, mumbled, “We should be fixing Nandita anyway, not me.”

  The young woman shot Sally a dirty look; Claire made a mental note to corner Sally later and find out what she knew. In some ways, her best friend was closer to Nandita than she was. Throughout the girl’s difficult first year or two, they had often tag-teamed to help keep her on the straight and narrow. Sally had often played the good cop in their routine.

  “I'm fine. Nothing to fix here.” Nandita sat up straight on her stool and managed to look like royalty, instead of a lost, post-graduate millennial. Not for the first time, Claire marveled at her beauty. “I have a plan.”

  “What’s your plan, hon?” Maureen slapped her hands together and powdered sugar puffed up from the contact. Claire glanced nervously at the racks of clothes. She was going to have to clean thoroughly after this morning.

  “Easy. I’ll get a job that will give me a visa.” The room went silent.

  “Nan, you know it’s not that easy. I mean, the whole reason I didn’t leave Telco earlier than I did was because of how stagnant the job market is,” Maureen said. “I have a ton of experience, too, and I couldn’t even score an interview—and I didn’t need a visa.”

  Nandita reached over to the tissue box, snagged one, and wiped her hands. Claire could have sworn they were shaking. “Well, I’ll just have to apply to a lot of jobs, then. I’ve already started.”

  Maureen didn’t look convinced. “Well, there is a job fair next week at the Jacob Javits center in New York. My niece was talking about it. I’ll get you the details.”

  “Here’s the thing, though, sweetie,” Claire tried to be gentle, as Nandita looked fragile. “What happens if you don’t get a job? What will you do then?”

  Sally cleared her throat and lifted her eyebrows in Nandita’s direction. What was going on with those two?

  “I’ll have to go back to India for a while, I guess,” the young woman said. “That’s what Satish wants anyway, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, Nan, you know he only wants the best for you. He’s not trying to boss you around. He only thinks you should have a relationship with your parents—especially your mother—and so do I.” Claire felt irritation creep into her voice, so she stood to clear away the donuts. Getting angry with Nandita wouldn’t help matters; she just wished she wasn’t so narrow-minded about her options. Claire knew how much Mrs. Bhatt would love to have her home.

  “That option doesn’t sound like you, Nan.” Maureen had stood from her stool and now helped Claire collect their sugary napkins. “You sound so relaxed and considerate.”

  “I’m always relaxed and considerate,” she said.

  Claire shared a quick glance with Sally, sending her a “stay quiet” message with her eyes, but Maureen spoke up anyway. “You’re relaxed and considerate about as often as Tod gets his way.”

  Nandita flushed red and turned to Claire, “So, you’re saying that, if I don’t go to India, I’m not considerate? That I shouldn’t care about what I want out of life?”

  Claire wasn’t sure why Nandita was targeting her, but she tried to be soothing. “I just don’t think you should count on a job, Nan. I can tell you aren’t serious about going back to India, but I believe you need to strongly consider it as an option. It might be your only choice.” She looked over at Sally, willing her to back her up on this one, but Sally just shrugged. Claire sensed her hope for a quiet, non-stressful few months leading up to the wedding was a pipe dream. This problem wasn’t going away.

  9

  Sally – The Fight

  Sally checked the fridge for the third time in three minutes. Yes, the white wine was still chilling in the cooler drawer. Where did she think it was going to go? She smoothed her short, black, silk skirt—Tod’s favorite dress-up skirt—and walked over to inspect her table setting. Everything was perfect. Tod had texted that he was five minutes away and Sally swung into action. Her specialty rotisserie chicken sat in the center of her carefully laid table surrounded by all of Tod’s favorite foods: Brussels sprouts, creamy mashed potatoes, and sweet carrots.

  In the nearly five years they had been together, Tod had never once mentioned the undeniable fact that everything she “cooked” came pre-made from the gourmet shop around the corner. She loved him for that—for a lot of things. It worried her that they seemed off, somehow, and she was determined to make his one day home between work trips the best day he’d had in a long time.

  She thought back to her conversation with the girls yesterday and specifically to Maureen’s question. Why did she think something was off? She couldn’t put her finger on it. Tod was as loving and attentive as he’d always been and he hadn’t said anything to her about a problem. Okay, so he didn’t like to travel, but she had made it clear to him how important it was to the expansion of his brand. She had huge goals for their g
allery and Tod’s future as an artist; when she finished with him, he would be an international, best-selling artist. Everyone would know his name and the world would recognize his genius.

  There was the faintest sound of a key scraping on a lock, but Sally was on high alert—no way was he going to surprise her! As the door burst open, she rushed forward and threw herself onto him, wrapping her long legs around his waist.

  Tod laughed loudly and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Well, hello! I missed you, too, but you’re crushing your flowers.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Sally said into the warm, sweet neck of the man she adored. “They hurt!”

  Tod kicked the door closed behind him with his heel and moved them into the living room. She could feel him trying to extract his arm with the bouquet, but she wasn’t giving him the space to maneuver.

  He lowered his head and whispered into her ear, “If they hurt, why don’t you get down so I can give them to you? They’re really pretty.”

  “I don’t want them. I want you.” Sally’s muffled voice was barely audible.

  “Well, you’ve got me—forever and ever.”

  “Promise?”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  Sally loosened her grip on his neck and allowed herself to slide slowly down his body until she reached the floor. When her butt hit the hardwood, she lay back, throwing her arms behind her head. “I’m all yours. Give me flowers and worship me.”

  The slide down Tod’s body had lifted her skirt to truly indecent places. She looked up into his crooked grin as he nudged her naked thigh with his toe. ”If you’re not careful, I’ll start worshipping you before dinner, and you know how hangry you get. Get off the floor and feed me, woman.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet and into an embrace. She wiggled her hips and pulled down her silk skirt as the crinkly paper of the bouquet scratched the back of her neck.