The interviewer and cameraman returned along the corridor for the next auditionee, but Jas stayed in her place for a few more minutes, searching in vain for her lost composure.
She had another hour to wait before they would announce those who had made it to the next round. She ought to find Krishnan and maybe get a cup of tea and something to eat. But there was no way she could eat. Not now.
She looked up to see the technician who had sorted out the backing tape standing in front of her. Was she going to get her tape back?
“Message for you,” said the technician abruptly, shoving a piece of folded paper into her hand before turning away again.
“For me?” Jas asked the empty space wonderingly. She unwrapped the piece of jotter paper to find a couple of lines in an elegant hand.
“Jasmeena,
You are a knockout and I want to take you out tonight. Please meet me at eight o’clock by the back exit of the studio.
Ajay Amir.”
Chapter Two
Jas couldn’t have read that right. She tried again, forcing herself to linger over each word, making sure it said exactly what it seemed to say.
Yes. It did. Ajay Amir wanted to take her out on a date. And he hadn’t waited for a reply. She could just not turn up…but this was Ajay Amir. It would take a woman with a cast-iron case around her heart and her libido to turn him down, and she didn’t have that.
“Oh my God,” she muttered to herself. “Oh my God, Jas. This has to be a delusion. Or a trick. He’s tricking me! But why would he…and isn’t it wrong for a judge to date a contestant? Perhaps this means I haven’t made the cut…oh, what does it mean?”
“First sign of madness,” Krishnan drawled.
That brought her to herself. She looked up, shocked, and stuffed the piece of crumpled paper into the waistband of her skirt.
“I’m just…” She shook her head.
“How did it go?”
“It seemed…all right.”
“You’re shaking, Jas.” Krish put a hand on her upper arm, just above the silver snake bracelet that wound around it.
“Nerves. I got a bit nervous.”
“You need a cup of tea. Come on. I’ll take you to the canteen.”
Over tea and a biscuit Jas couldn’t face, Krish chatted lightly about all the sights and sounds he’d absorbed whilst watching people ebb and flow from the auditions.
“I’ve never seen so many vain people all in one place,” he said, stirring sugar into his mug.
“Thanks for calling me vain,” said Jas, only half-listening, her brain taken up with her dating dilemma.
“I don’t blame you for it,” he said. “You’ve got the looks and the talent. I bet half of these don’t have either.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Jas looked up, touched. Krishnan usually teased her or put her down.
He pouted flirtatiously, weakening her knees.
“Nah. Look at that face. Too much makeup. You’re like one of those TV models—an Asian version of Jordan.”
“I’m not Asian. But thanks for that.”
“I keep forgetting. So they didn’t bust you then?”
“No. Nobody mentioned it. I think I’ve got away with it so far.”