27. Gifts
27
Gifts
Vera
“ H ere you go, Ma’am. Please sign here.”
Vera accepted the bouquet, silently signing the receipt for the delivery person. She nodded when the young man wished her a good day before leaving her there, struggling to ignore the stares of all her office mates.
She barely held back a sigh when she turned towards her table. Except for the space allotted for her computer, her notebook and keyboard, every possible inch of her desk was covered with bouquets. Lavenders and roses, calla lilies, carnations, daisies—you name it and the flower was there. At one point, she’d had to look up names of some of the blooms she’d received. She cast a glance at the peonies in her arms, their sweet scent filling her nostrils. Where the hell was she going to put them? The only remaining place was on her head or up the ass of the person she knew was responsible for turning her workstation into a greenhouse.
“More flowers?” someone asked .
Her team members were staring from above their respective desks. Who wouldn’t? She’d gotten a bouquet every day this week and they kept getting bigger and more ostentatious.
“New boyfriend trying to impress you?” her script writer asked, wiggling her brows in excitement, hoping for a new piece of gossip straight from the source.
“No, no. I don’t. . . I. . . uh. . .”
“Ms. Talwar?”
She spun around, quietly groaning when a new delivery boy came up to her, one she recognized.
“Your coffee and breakfast order is here,” he cheerfully told her, handing her a brown paper bag and a large cup with the swirly logo of the cafe next door.
The scent of coffee, cinnamon, and croissants competed with the flowers in her hand.
She dared a look at her team, noting even more people in the farthest corners of the office watching her. Some were standing, others craning their necks past the corner of their cubicles to catch a glimpse of the breakfast she’d received today.
“Looks like someone really wants people to know that you have a boyfriend,” Jay muttered from his spot where he was previously running lines with the script writer. When Vera glared at him, he smiled innocently, as if he hadn’t thrown a spotlight on her again.
“So you do have a boyfriend?” her junior asked.
“It’s not like th—Oh look! I have a meeting with the boss,” Vera squeaked, tapping her screen for emphasis. No one needed to know that she was pointing at a wallpaper of a sloth eating a strawberry. Without bothering to put the flowers or her coffee down, she stalked down the hallway, right past Laila’s desk. She was in no mood to speak with Vihaan’s PA. Only Vihaan. And if he knew what was good for him, he’d listen.
To her surprise, and relief, Laila didn’t call after her, meaning that Vihaan wasn’t in a meeting. Still, she knocked on his door for good measure, waiting until she heard his baritone rumble. She stepped in just as he raised his head from the files he was marking.
“Lock the door.”
Vera stopped mid-step, confused by the order. “Why?”
Placing his pen down, Vihaan shot her a grin. “Because I can tell from the stubborn set of your lower lip that you are itching to fight with me about something. Since I do enjoy arguing with you, I’d rather that we not get interrupted. So, lock the door.”
She rolled her eyes to try to cover up the little tremble in her belly at his ability to read her so well.
“I assume this isn’t about the ad campaign meeting we have with Mr. Gill in an hour?” Vihaan asked.
“It’s not.” She reached behind her and turned the lock, just as she complained, “You sent me flowers.”
“I wanted to thank you for driving me home last weekend when I was unwell.”
“You’ve sent me flowers all week,” she said, pointedly raising the peonies before placing them on the edge of his desk. Vihaan’s eyes travelled from the flowers to her, a tiny frown creasing his forehead.
“Well, yes. After you stopped glaring at the first bouquet like I might have hidden a snake in it, it seemed like you liked it. Didn’t you?”
“They were nice.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Vera chewed the inside of her lip, trying to not let irritation rise. Was he deliberately pretending to not know? She took a swig of the coffee she still held, needing the caffeine for fortitude before thumping the cup atop his desk. “My problem,” she bit out through clenched teeth, “is that you are continuing to send me flowers. My desk is overrun with them.”
His expression cleared, as if her issue suddenly became understandable. “Why didn’t you say so before? I’ll have your desk replaced with a bigger one. Today. Or maybe we should get you your own office.”
“No!” Vera exclaimed, her mouth parting in surprise. “That—that’s not the point! People are asking questions about who they’re from.”
“Say it’s from your boyfriend.”
Vera sucked in a quick breath, taken aback by how easily he’d said those words. Boyfriend? Is that what he wanted to be? He looked as shocked as she felt.
“You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Fuck-buddy, then,” he shrugged, recovering from his faux-pas.
“Don’t be ugly,” she snapped.
The teasing smile that curled his lips was one that drove her mad.
“Saw myself in the mirror this morning,” he murmured, leaning back in a deceptively lazy pose. “I’m downright handsome. Sexy, some would say.”
“Your ego is taking up so much air in this room, it’s making me choke.”
“I’d rather you choke on a different part of me.”
“Keep dreaming.”
“What makes you think I don’t?” he asked, his voice so full of longing that her breath caught in her chest. The slow, simmering look he shot her left Vera feeling like he’d physically caressed her. A gentle wave of heat spread across her body, collecting at the tips of her breasts. She shook her head, holding on determinedly to the ire she’d entered his room with. At this rate, she’d be left blushing.
“What makes you think I care?” she grumbled, trying her damndest to sound angry and failing. “Stop giving me flowers. Stop having coffee sent to my desk. Stop trying to pick me up for work. We’re not in a relationship. Get Laila to cancel everything,” she added, pointing to the landline on his desk. “I emailed her about it, but she keeps pretending that she has no idea what I’m talking about. ”
To her surprise, Vihaan pressed a button on his receiver, the pinging noises of a number being dialled filtering through the speakers. The idea that he was listening to her so instantly was as alien as it was disconcerting.
“Hello, you’ve reached Bloom Boutique. This is Tanya speaking.”
Vera’s brows knit, her frown lines deepening when Vihaan thanked Tanya for the peonies and confirmed a continuation of deliveries for the next month.
“Vihaan!” she gasped, eyes widening in horror.
“Hold on.” He raised a finger to silence her, pressing yet another number. She couldn’t hide her surprise when it was the next-door cafe, greeting Vihaan like he was their favourite customer. “Yes, the usual 8 a.m.? Change that to a flat white, medium roast, steamed milk, extra hot, sprinkling of cinnamon. Add an afternoon delivery at two p.m. Decaf.”
Needing to stop his madness, Vera stepped around the desk, trying to interrupt his conversation. She reached out to press a button to end his call, frustrated when his hand shot out to grip her wrist like a manacle. “Change the breakfast next week to fresh bagels. Toasted with butter,” Vihaan said, pulling her away from the phone and closer to him. “Include the croissant,” he added, his expression making it clear that this was punishment for her audacious attempt to disconnect his call. “Change it every other day with the jalapeno and sundried tomato sandwiches. She likes it spicy.”
The click of the call ending brought Vera back to her senses. She twisted her wrist out of his grasp. “You’re insane if you think I can eat that much.”
“If you don’t eat it, I’ll be forced to come feed you. I won’t really care who is around to see it either. You can’t subsist on just coffee, and I can’t allow one of my best employees to faint on the job.”
“I—I—” she stammered, unable to comprehend what was happening anymore. “ You put in the orders? Not Laila? ”
He shot her a chiding look. “My PA is for professional work. This is personal.”
“It’s too much,” she argued, trying to tamp down that ridiculous bubble of pleasure that seemed determined to rise up every time Vihaan did something unexpectedly sweet.
“I disagree.”
“Do you know how much a bagel and a croissant costs?! I could eat vada pav off the street for an entire week for the price of one!” She glared at the unbothered lump of a human who continued to smile at her like she was an entertaining clown putting on a private show for him. “Cancel that order!”
“No.”
“The coffee! And bagel? I’ll be ostracised as an Indian,” she groaned dramatically, almost talking to herself now. “I’m a Punjabi kudi. I should be eating aloo ke parathe for breakfast and—”
“I can order that for you, too.”
“Quit being obtuse!” She stomped her foot, heartily tired of being the only one with sense. “People in my position cannot afford this kind of luxury everyday.”
“I guess I need to review your salary,” came his immediate offer, one that had her biting back a frustrated growl.
“Don’t you dare! And, how did you know about my coffee with cinnamon?”
“We’ve been in enough meetings together,” he explained, as if it was obvious. “I notice things.”
“Stop noticing things about me!”
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he replied quietly, his gaze locked on her.
As quickly as her temper had risen, the fight drained out of her at his response. Being around him was too confusing. She recognized his thoughtfulness, but she hated that she liked it. All week long, she’d reminded herself that he was used to giving lavish gifts to all the lovers he was pictured with. But the mere knowledge that he’d spent time calling in these gifts put a dent in her armour. He was slipping through the cracks in the shield safeguarding her heart, and she didn’t want to find out what would happen if he succeeded.
“Why are you doing this?” she tiredly asked, unable to resist him when he reached out to pull her closer till she was standing between his knees, both hands on his shoulders.
“Get one thing clear,” he said, his thumb rubbing soothingly along her hip bone, right above where his hands rested. “I will not be asking permission to buy you something. For as long as we are together—”
“Shhhh!” she panicked, checking around her to confirm that all the blinds were drawn. “People could hear.”
“Am I your dirty little secret?” he asked, looking offended.
“Yes!”
“Calm down. I soundproofed my office after that incident with Olivia overhearing our argument. Happy?”
She growled grumpily in acknowledgment.
“Now, like I was saying, when we are toge—”
“We are not together,” Vera exasperatedly interrupted him, slapping her head with one hand when he stared impassively at her. “We fucked each other. That’s it.”
“You’d have done it again if my annoying friends hadn’t crashed into my apartment.”
“Do you think I owe you a round because the last one got interrupted?” She stepped away, unprepared when he stood up to follow her.
“Now who’s being ugly?” he tsked, closing the distance between them till her back was up against a wall. His arms came to cage her on either side while he bent low, bringing his lips to her ear. “You don’t owe me sex, Princess. But if you expect me to turn you away when you all but climb me, you’ll be disappointed. I’m a selfish man who takes what I want, and I want you.”
Goosebumps erupted across her skin at his declaration .
“I’m not sleeping with other women right now,” he murmured, raising his head to see her once more. His gaze traced every curve of her face, noting every minute reaction to his statement. “I plan to keep you too busy to pay attention to anyone except me. I’m not ready to end whatever this is. So, while it lasts, I will be buying you flowers, food, coffee, and whatever the hell else suits my fancy. You don’t like it? Throw it out. But be warned, there will be something bigger and flashier to replace it.”
“Just because you have money doesn’t mean you should be irresponsible with it.”
His gaze bored into her. The subtle tension in his shoulders would have gone unnoticed if she hadn’t been so keenly aware of him.
“It’s my money, Vera. Not my father’s. I could burn it if I wanted to—I’ve earned the right. You don’t get to judge me for how I choose to spend what’s mine.”
“But—”
“You think you’re getting curious looks now?” he cut her off. “You have no idea what I can buy to make those whispers louder.”
Bristling at his plan, she shook her head. “You’re threatening my career. This power imbalance between us is unfair.”
Vihaan scoffed, a lopsided smirk replacing his previously tense features.
“You’re right. It is unfair. Are you going to quit work?”
“No!” Her palms came up to rest against his chest, ready to push him away. Instead, her fingers curled into his suit. “You told me you didn’t want me to quit!”
“I don’t. That leaves you with one option—report me to HR.”