5 hours ago
Chapter 9 - Stories & Scores
The next night they sat on the bed again, both lists open between them, a notebook ready for scores.
Tara spoke first.
“I’ve decided. I’m removing the last two names from my list — Arun and Nikhil.
Arun is still messy from his separation. Too emotional. Nikhil is funny but harmless. In six months he might not even hold my hand.
So you have to filter and choose from the remaining three: Sam Arya, Karthik, and Vivek.”
Jeeva nodded slowly and looked at his own list.
“I’m removing two as well.
Sneha — divorced. I’ve heard enough office stories. She’s a troublemaker. Once she gets close, she creates drama.
Anjali — newly married. I don’t trust that combination. Too cheerful, laughs too easily. Feels risky in the wrong way.”
Tara raised an eyebrow.
“And Priya? Why is she still there?”
Jeeva gave a small smile.
“She’s… too beautiful to ignore.”
He expected her to smile back.
She didn’t.
The absence of her usual smile hit him harder than he expected. Something cold settled in his chest. He suddenly remembered how she had described Sam Arya the previous night — he undresses me with his eyes. The way she said it had been too calm, too precise. He decided he would try to reject Sam in this round.
Tara opened her notebook.
“Tell me properly. One by one. Why would each of them want to sleep with you, if they had the chance?”
Jeeva started with the easier ones, giving weak, almost lousy reasons.
“Divya likes attention. She flirts with everyone. If I show interest, she might take it further just for fun.
Priya’s husband is in another city. She’s lonely. Maybe she wants company more than sex.
Sneha… I already removed her.
Anjali is naïve. She might confuse kindness with something else.”
Then he came to Ramya.
“Ramya is unhappy in her marriage. From what she’s said in passing, her husband is abusive. She stays late at office to escape home. We’ve worked together on deadlines many times. She’s naturally become comfortable with me.”
Tara interrupted.
“So you’re saying Ramya is an easy target?”
Jeeva hesitated, then nodded.
“Easier than the others. Yes.”
Tara wrote something down without speaking.
Now it was her turn.
She started with the ones she knew Jeeva would reject.
“Vivek is married, quiet, intense eyes. But he’s also… unattractive in a cold way. Hard face, no softness. I don’t think I could ever feel comfortable enough with him.
Karthik is dangerous for a different reason. He’s a singer in a weekend band, charming, talks too much, immature. He would expect things fast. Drama will come early. Not good for a controlled experiment.”
Then she came to Sam Arya.
Jeeva was already waiting.
“Sam is different,” Tara said quietly. “He’s tempting. His body, the way he carries himself, the way he speaks. Controlled. Not loud.
Two months ago we got stuck in a crowded lift during the evening rush. People pushed from behind. For almost twenty seconds his chest was pressed against mine. Hard. Masculine. I could feel everything.
I still don’t know if he did it deliberately or if it was just the crowd. After that day I stopped speaking to him unnecessarily.”
She looked at Jeeva.
“If you select him, I will go with it. I’m not hiding that he’s the strongest option. With him the test will start quickly. Friendship will form fast. The real pressure will come early. With the others we might waste months and still not know anything.”
Jeeva tried.
“He’s married. He’s senior. He’s already shown that kind of interest. It’s too risky.”
Tara didn’t argue. She only said,
“The highest score goes to the person with the strongest intent and ability to seduce. That’s the rule we both agreed on.
Sam scores highest on my list.
Ramya scores highest on yours.”
They sat in silence for a while, the notebook open between them.
Finally Tara wrote the shortlist clearly:
Tara’s final three:
“Highest marks,” she said softly. “For easy reach and real challenge.”
Jeeva stared at the stars.
He had tried to push Sam out.
He had failed.
The experiment now had faces.
And both of them knew exactly which two faces were most likely to be chosen.
Jeeva stared at the stars.
“So… is this final?”
Tara shook her head.
“No. One more test.
We need to voice-record a casual talk with each of them and play it here. From the way they speak, we’ll know their real intention.
Whoever scores lowest — shows the least interest or the most hesitation — gets rejected.
Then you will select the best one among the remaining for me, and I will select the best one among the remaining for you.”
Jeeva frowned.
“Recording is risky.”
“Just begin a normal conversation and record with your phone when no one notices,” she said. “If you can talk in a private place, even better.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
Tara thought for a moment, then spoke calmly.
“Call them to a secluded place. Tell them you’re in trouble and need help from a woman.
Say you and I are separated. A distant relative is coming with some will money, but he will give it only if he sees you still living a married life.
Ask them to come with you somewhere outside office for a short time so the relative believes it.
The one who shows even the slightest dilemma or eagerness will reveal their real mind.”
Jeeva looked at her, half stunned, half curious.
“And what will you do?”
Tara smiled.
“I’ll tell each of the men that I need to meet a financier and I’m scared to go alone.
I’ll also say I’m hiding it from my husband because I’m arranging some cash for my own family without his knowledge.
I’ll ask if they can come with me.
Their answers will tell us everything.”
Jeeva sat back against the headboard, staring at her.
The level of planning, the quiet cunningness in her voice — it left him speechless for a few seconds.
“At this rate,” he said slowly, “I feel like I’m losing trust in humans.”
Tara met his eyes directly.
“The world is like that, Jeeva.
No one can be trusted.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, the two shortlists still lying open between them, the next step of the experiment already waiting for Monday morning.
The next night they sat on the bed again, both lists open between them, a notebook ready for scores.
Tara spoke first.
“I’ve decided. I’m removing the last two names from my list — Arun and Nikhil.
Arun is still messy from his separation. Too emotional. Nikhil is funny but harmless. In six months he might not even hold my hand.
So you have to filter and choose from the remaining three: Sam Arya, Karthik, and Vivek.”
Jeeva nodded slowly and looked at his own list.
“I’m removing two as well.
Sneha — divorced. I’ve heard enough office stories. She’s a troublemaker. Once she gets close, she creates drama.
Anjali — newly married. I don’t trust that combination. Too cheerful, laughs too easily. Feels risky in the wrong way.”
Tara raised an eyebrow.
“And Priya? Why is she still there?”
Jeeva gave a small smile.
“She’s… too beautiful to ignore.”
He expected her to smile back.
She didn’t.
The absence of her usual smile hit him harder than he expected. Something cold settled in his chest. He suddenly remembered how she had described Sam Arya the previous night — he undresses me with his eyes. The way she said it had been too calm, too precise. He decided he would try to reject Sam in this round.
Tara opened her notebook.
“Tell me properly. One by one. Why would each of them want to sleep with you, if they had the chance?”
Jeeva started with the easier ones, giving weak, almost lousy reasons.
“Divya likes attention. She flirts with everyone. If I show interest, she might take it further just for fun.
Priya’s husband is in another city. She’s lonely. Maybe she wants company more than sex.
Sneha… I already removed her.
Anjali is naïve. She might confuse kindness with something else.”
Then he came to Ramya.
“Ramya is unhappy in her marriage. From what she’s said in passing, her husband is abusive. She stays late at office to escape home. We’ve worked together on deadlines many times. She’s naturally become comfortable with me.”
Tara interrupted.
“So you’re saying Ramya is an easy target?”
Jeeva hesitated, then nodded.
“Easier than the others. Yes.”
Tara wrote something down without speaking.
Now it was her turn.
She started with the ones she knew Jeeva would reject.
“Vivek is married, quiet, intense eyes. But he’s also… unattractive in a cold way. Hard face, no softness. I don’t think I could ever feel comfortable enough with him.
Karthik is dangerous for a different reason. He’s a singer in a weekend band, charming, talks too much, immature. He would expect things fast. Drama will come early. Not good for a controlled experiment.”
Then she came to Sam Arya.
Jeeva was already waiting.
“Sam is different,” Tara said quietly. “He’s tempting. His body, the way he carries himself, the way he speaks. Controlled. Not loud.
Two months ago we got stuck in a crowded lift during the evening rush. People pushed from behind. For almost twenty seconds his chest was pressed against mine. Hard. Masculine. I could feel everything.
I still don’t know if he did it deliberately or if it was just the crowd. After that day I stopped speaking to him unnecessarily.”
She looked at Jeeva.
“If you select him, I will go with it. I’m not hiding that he’s the strongest option. With him the test will start quickly. Friendship will form fast. The real pressure will come early. With the others we might waste months and still not know anything.”
Jeeva tried.
“He’s married. He’s senior. He’s already shown that kind of interest. It’s too risky.”
Tara didn’t argue. She only said,
“The highest score goes to the person with the strongest intent and ability to seduce. That’s the rule we both agreed on.
Sam scores highest on my list.
Ramya scores highest on yours.”
They sat in silence for a while, the notebook open between them.
Finally Tara wrote the shortlist clearly:
Tara’s final three:
- Sam Arya
- Karthik
- Vivek
- Ramya
- Divya
- Priya
“Highest marks,” she said softly. “For easy reach and real challenge.”
Jeeva stared at the stars.
He had tried to push Sam out.
He had failed.
The experiment now had faces.
And both of them knew exactly which two faces were most likely to be chosen.
Jeeva stared at the stars.
“So… is this final?”
Tara shook her head.
“No. One more test.
We need to voice-record a casual talk with each of them and play it here. From the way they speak, we’ll know their real intention.
Whoever scores lowest — shows the least interest or the most hesitation — gets rejected.
Then you will select the best one among the remaining for me, and I will select the best one among the remaining for you.”
Jeeva frowned.
“Recording is risky.”
“Just begin a normal conversation and record with your phone when no one notices,” she said. “If you can talk in a private place, even better.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
Tara thought for a moment, then spoke calmly.
“Call them to a secluded place. Tell them you’re in trouble and need help from a woman.
Say you and I are separated. A distant relative is coming with some will money, but he will give it only if he sees you still living a married life.
Ask them to come with you somewhere outside office for a short time so the relative believes it.
The one who shows even the slightest dilemma or eagerness will reveal their real mind.”
Jeeva looked at her, half stunned, half curious.
“And what will you do?”
Tara smiled.
“I’ll tell each of the men that I need to meet a financier and I’m scared to go alone.
I’ll also say I’m hiding it from my husband because I’m arranging some cash for my own family without his knowledge.
I’ll ask if they can come with me.
Their answers will tell us everything.”
Jeeva sat back against the headboard, staring at her.
The level of planning, the quiet cunningness in her voice — it left him speechless for a few seconds.
“At this rate,” he said slowly, “I feel like I’m losing trust in humans.”
Tara met his eyes directly.
“The world is like that, Jeeva.
No one can be trusted.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, the two shortlists still lying open between them, the next step of the experiment already waiting for Monday morning.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)