Short Story: No Inconsistencies

I wrote one romantic short story earlier: Whisper on a Zephyr. This is my second attempt at this genre. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


Spotting the gang drinking cocktails and laughing a little too loudly at some joke, I rushed to the bar to get a glass for myself and join them. It wouldn't do for me to be the only guy standing there without a glass in his hand, would it?

My boss was there. He's a really friendly guy at these social occasions, even if he can be quite a dinosaur at work.
"Hey Sid, meet your new co-worker. This is Ananya, you've already spoken with her on the phone right? We need the two of you to save us on the Warren project."
I shook hands with the woman whose voice I'd been hearing a little too often the past two days. It was a nice voice, mind you, but she was even more demanding when it came to work than I was. I liked her body language. She was relaxed and friendly without losing an inch of the confident air I'd come to recognize in her voice.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief when she pointed to her handbag.
"You know what I have in here?"
Sigh.
"The file. You want me to be well prepped for tomorrow's meeting. Even if the only people meeting are the two of us. Very altruistic of you!"
I was trying to be funny, not sarcastic. I hoped my smile indicated the former. She laughed, so I relaxed. I hate getting off on the wrong foot with co-workers.

Since she was laughing, I thought I'd push my luck.
"Your glass is almost empty. You should try this, it's really good. Here, try a sip."
She didn't hesitate. She took the glass and sipped.

I waited for the reaction. See, I'm a teetotaller. The glass contained water.
She said nothing. She folded her hands and rocked back on one leg and gave me a not-quite-serious angry schoolteacher look.
"Wait, wait..."
I took both the glasses off her hands to let her fold her hands more easily. I pretended to look over her critically and pronounced, "Better."

She laughed again and I beckoned her towards the bar.
"Let me order for you," I said and gave rapid instructions to the bartender. It included mint, lemon, vodka, ginger and a couple of other things. I prayed it tasted as good as it sounded because I certainly had no idea how it would taste. I was ordering based on third-hand knowledge.

"And let me, for you..."
I grabbed her hand as she started to call the bartender over and pulled it down.
"I don't drink alcohol." I pointed at the glass in my hand. "I have my water."
She raised an eyebrow. "And yet you ordered... ooookaaay lets try this."
And so she tried it. And smiled.

I heaved an internal sigh of relief as she pronounced it as tasting wonderful. Then her eyes narrowed on the person on stage.
"That's funny. I thought I saw her getting that award last year."
"Yeah, she wins it every year. She's one of our top employees. We call her Miss Felicity."
She looked puzzled. "Why, is she that good at spreading cheer?"
"Well, yes, she makes everyone in our department happy simply by virtue of being there and being good looking. But it's supposed to be a joke. She gets felicitated every year, you see. Inevitably."
Then I leaned over conspiratively.
"I heard she went through a break up recently, which means she's single and available."
I leaned back.
"I've got that from every single guy at work over the past week or two. Unbelievable."

"Well, considering how pretty she is, it's pretty believable I would say. Have you asked her out yet?"
I'm not easily surprised, but that one took me by surprise. Espying the mischievous look on her face again, I thought I'd surprise her back. With the truth.
"Nope. I'm quite a coward when it comes to asking women out. Tongue gets mysteriously tied up. Weird considering I have absolutely no difficulty talking in any other situation."
She laughed mellifluously again. "That I can believe. Especially since I am much the same myself."
"You get tongue-tied everytime you want to ask a woman out?"
She punched me on the shoulder. Ow. She's a strong one.

The speech finished and there was a big round of applause. Someone then raised a cheer for the company and there was an even bigger round of applause, including some whistling. Ananya once again surprised me by whistling with the others. She didn't strike me as the rowdy type. Guess I must be bringing out the best in her. Catching me glaring at her, she said "What?"
"Unfair. I can't whistle."
"Well, it's simple, really, you just..."
I held my hand up. "Please, I've had lessons from everyone on Earth possible. I just can't do it. I wasn't blessed with the ability."
I pointed. "See that guy over there? He's too nice to ever whistle at a girl, even too nice to whistle in applause like just now. And yet he's brilliant at whistling. What do you infer from that?"
"Nothing. You can't expect everything in life to be logical and consistent."
"Ah, but I hate inconsistencies. I've always believed that if you see something inconsistent, then you're missing a fact that resolves the inconsistency, and often you can deduce that missing fact directly."
"Okay Einstein, so what are we missing here?"
"He's a genius at music. He plays the flute, and he can whistle the most complicated flute tune."
"How can you hate inconsistencies when you're saying there is no such thing as an inconsistency?"
"Are you expecting an answer for that?"
"Nope. Totally rhetorical. I just need to have the last word, you see."
"I have that need too. Generally I do end up having the last word but I can see I'm going to have a hard time doing that while working with you."
She smiled and clinked our glasses together.

The room was getting really loud, so I suggested we walk to the balcony and get some fresh air. She agreed. We walked up to the door side by side, where she paused. I looked at her and asked, "What?"
"You're supposed to open the door for me."
"Oh, please. You can't have both equality of the sexes and chivalry at the same time. Pick one."
"How rude." She made a very loud and very fake sniff and opened the door. And pointedly held it open for me to walk through. I grinned. Touche. Point taken.
"But seriously, do you really expect men to open car doors and pay for your restaurant bills and etcetera etcetera?"
"No, but opening a door, or holding it open is common courtesy. You would do it for anyone."
"Come on. If I'd reached the door ahead of you, perhaps. But you were closer to the door than I was. Naturally I expect you to open the door."
She waved her hand. "Don't worry, I just did that to see how you'd react. We're going to be working together, I don't want you to agree with me on things just because I'm a woman. A lot of people do that and place blame on me later. I hate that. If they agree with me, no matter how half-heartedly, they should take the responsibility for that."
"So I pass?"

I'm beginning to love that smile of hers.

The evening wound down and we found ourselves at the door saying our goodbyes. "Here, let me help you with that," I said as I helped her put on her jacket. She pulled the file out of her handbag.
"Wait, let me check it once," she said and went to a table to flip through the file once. Then she handed it to me and we left.

I wondered how long it would take her to discover the note I'd left in her jacket pocket. Knowing how smart she was, not long. For, having already established that I'm not chivalrous, why did I help her on with the jacket when she didn't look like she needed any help? There are no inconsistencies, she'd said. Oh, she'll spot it, in less than a day I bet. The note said "Friday night?". That gave her three days. Enough of a buffer. At times like these, I really wished I knew how to whistle as I walked down the street.

I stopped in my tracks. That woman was way too systematic in her work to need to check anything in the file at the last minute. No inconsistencies?

I opened the file. A note slipped on top said, "Friday night is good."

Darn it. She had the last word again.

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