Secrets Hidden In Time (Time #1)

72 | A Hug, Some Comfort, A Few Signatures & A Whetted Hairpin

Sighting no other escape route, she briskly turned around avoiding his gaze, her footfall subconsciously advancing towards the door, "Whatever."

He chuckled shaking his head, as he followed her out of the closet into their bedroom. "Joseph called me yesterday evening. Suzanne and him are organizing a get-together for the buddy squad at their home tomorrow, from eleven a.m. She tried to call you yesterday but maybe you were busy."

Hearing this, she volt-faced, stopping in her tracks next to the canopy bed, "She did?" Her brows furrowed, "Guess, I have missed it. My phone was on silent mode for the whole day yesterday."

"Not an issue. I just wanted to ask you if you would be able to take out a little time from your schedule tomorrow for this?" He smiled softly, "Even if it's packed and you are unable to come, it will be fine. They'll understand."

She bit the insides of her mouth, looking at him apologetically, "I can't assure you if I'll be able to come with you or not, but I'll try to take out some time. Don't wait for me tomorrow. Leave with Ani. If I do get time, I'll come on my own."

"Alright." He replied, gentle, calm and collected.

She nodded, smiling ever so slightly.

"By the way," he rubbed the back of his head, a bit shyly, "So, about that dress you wore at the club with those three clowns that evening—are you thinking of rocking something like that again? You know, for me?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, smiling teasingly. "Not a chance." With that, she spun around and sauntered out of the bedroom. "That's not my style."

"Oh, come on!" He huffed almost as if throwing a tantrum, stomping his left foot on the carpeted floor. "Fuck Katoch! Fuck my luck!" 

"Language!" She barked, as he followed her out of the bedroom into the vestibule.

"Sorry." He muttered, "But, come on, tell me, won't you wear something like that ever again? I don't think you have a conservative mindset to avoid Western dresses."

She sighed, "Dogra Sahib, I have nothing against western dresses. We all are free to wear whatever we want as long as that piece of clothing sheathing our body doesn't cross a certain limit of indecency. Just that my profession and rank entitles me to dress more modestly. How do you think it would look if a lady officer enters into a room full of men and women in uniforms and formals, wearing an off-shoulder short-dress or bodycon and high heels, with her face full of makeup?" She paused, "Odd, right?"

"We must dress according to the occasion or situation we enter and from a logical perspective, almost twelve to fourteen of the twenty-four hours of a day, I am either at the SIT headquarters or the SDM office. Linen or cotton Sarees, Kurtas and formals, during these twelve to fourteen hours not only provide me with a sense of comfort, but also I don't have to constantly be worried if my back or any other part of my body is visible to others eyes or not. It's kind of certain for me that all parts of my body are respectfully covered. I even get most of my blouses stitched according to my full torsal length, to avoid my waist getting exposed." She explained. "That evening at the club, was an exception since I was operating undercover."

"Most importantly, Sarees, Kurtas and formals are spacious and loose enough for me to stitch pockets in them and even hide a knife, a pistol or a revolver perchance." She smirked, lifting her left eyebrow. "But we can't say the same about a bodycon, can we?"

He chuckled, shaking his head in surrender, "Alright, I give up."

She took two steps back as they reached the edge of the staircase. He descended the stairs with her following two steps behind him.