Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter
Twenty-four
“I thought I had hit rock bottom, but we managed to find a new sub-basement.”
—Mindy Lahiri, The Mindy Project
Harsha woke up in Veer’s arms for the second morning in a row. Except this time, they were both naked. He was still asleep, drool on his pillow again, one hand on her bare waist and the other supporting his head.
Shit. She touched her hand to his face, her stomach clenching at the memory of his beard raking across her sensitive skin. Harsha exhaled through her teeth. The things Veer had done last night with his hands and his lips and his tongue and his—
Stop. Harsha clenched her fists to keep herself from staying on that train of thought. But then there was everything else—his sweet gestures that showed her he cared; his kind words that told her he not only understood her, he admired her.
Harsha’s parents had taught her that admiration was only given to those who were rich, successful, and had society’s stamp of approval. So, of course, she had neither expected nor received it from her parents.
But Veer knew her, inside and out, with all of her flaws, and he was still in awe of her.
So fuck the risks of making this fake relationship real, Harsha decided. How could they matter, now that she finally knew what it was like to have him, touch him, love him?
Harsha hid her face in the fluffy pillow and couldn’t help but press her thighs together as memories of last night washed over her. The way he kissed her neck and collarbone as he thrust into her. The words he whispered as his lips made their way down her body (“I’ve never loved strawberries more.”). Or how he pecked her on the nose and stroked her hair as she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Then her thoughts wandered to how it all began, with their first kiss. Hard and fast, as though there were nothing else in the world that mattered to him but them. And then his kisses had grown tender, more and more, like he was cherishing every brush of their lips. His fingers knew how to work magic, and he’d read her moans and sighs so well.
Smiling like a fool, Harsha gently rolled away from his grip and grabbed her phone from the bedside table. It was only seven a.m. , and she didn’t have to get ready to photograph the reception until the afternoon. She had plenty of time to have a mature conversation with Veer about last night and about where they would go from here.
As she was putting her phone back, it buzzed with a text message.
Papa:
Good morning. Pls meet me in the hotel lobby. Have to talk to you
What is this about? Harsha stifled a groan. Was it another opportunity for him to belittle her or poke fun at Veer? Tell her off for handing over her photography responsibilities and actually enjoying herself at her cousin’s wedding? He was impossible to please.
Harsha:
I’m still in bed. See you at breakfast in an hour or so?
Papa is typing…
Papa is typing…
“Morning.” Veer had woken up. He stifled a yawn. “Did you sleep well?”
She put her phone aside and nodded, settling back into the bed. “I did.”
“Come here.” He tugged her back into his arms and kissed her on the forehead. “I don’t know if I should say this, but…I could really get used to this.”
Harsha’s heart skipped a beat. “Get used to what?” she asked, holding back her smile.
Veer brushed his lips against hers, sparking something deep in her core. “Us, of course.”
“Me too,” she admitted. She hooked her leg on top of his and kissed him, running her hands through his hair. Three times last night didn’t feel like enough. She wanted more of him. She wanted everything he could give her.
Veer groaned against her mouth. “You’re impossible to resist. God, I…I can’t stop replaying last night in my head.”
Harsha smiled in between kisses, then rested her head on his shoulder. “Veer?”
“Yeah?”
“Should we talk about where we’re going from here? Now that we’re”—she gulped—“now that the contract is over?”
He tilted her chin up so their eyes met. His gaze was soft, sweet, kind. Full of love.
Just like him.
“There’s no question in my mind of what I want with you, no matter how hard it’ll be to figure out,” he said. “I knew it before, but last night taught me just how much I—”
Harsha’s phone buzzed thrice. She reached for it to put it on silent mode when her father’s next set of messages caught her eye.
This is urgent
Pls meet me asap
It’s about your secondary account
The phone slipped from Harsha’s hands onto the comforter. She held her breath, rereading the third message. It’s about your secondary account. What about it? Did—did Papa know? No, no, no way in hell—
“Is everything okay?” Veer asked, planting a kiss on her shoulder.
“I—um—reception emergency,” she said, standing up with her phone in her hand. She put on the first set of clothes she could find in her suitcase; her hands trembled when she shimmied into her jeans. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Harsha—” Veer sat up, but she headed out of the room before he could stop her.
She took a series of deep breaths in the elevator, promising herself that this was about something else, not the money she was paying Veer. Maybe Papa wanted her signature on some bank documents, or this was just an excuse for him to tell her off about last night’s fight with Neha.
Papa was sitting on one of the plush velvety chairs in the hotel lobby, his gaze fixed straight ahead at a potted indoor plant. He was rotating his phone around in his hand, seemingly deep in thought, with a thin folder resting on his lap. He didn’t stand when she walked in; he only gestured for her to take the chair opposite him.
“Hey.” Harsha sat down and wiped her shaky, sweaty hands on her jeans. “What did you want to talk about?”
Papa unlocked his phone screen and showed it to her. “This.”
Blood drained from Harsha’s face at the sight of the secondary account’s bank balance, depleted after the previous two payments to Veer. How did—how could Papa have access to it? “What is this?” she asked, feigning confusion.
Her father rolled his eyes. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out that you were siphoning off money from our joint secondary account?”
“Joint account?” she exclaimed. “I thought it was my —”
“You thought wrong,” he said, scrolling through his phone. “You’ve transferred large sums of money—my money—to the same person, twice. Veer Kannan.”
Panic rose in Harsha’s throat, tasting like bile. “He was having money troubles,” she lied. “He’s going to pay me back.”
Wordlessly, Papa took out a photograph from the file and gave it to her. It was a picture of Veer behind the counter at Sunstag. He stood front and center in his barista uniform, busy brewing coffee, his eyes on the cup in his hand.
Harsha looked at the photo again. “Who took this?”
“I had someone pay a discreet visit to Sunstag,” Papa said casually, as though he were talking about the weather. “It was eye-opening, to say the least.” He took the photograph back from her and sighed. “You’ve disappointed us greatly, Harsha, for months now.”
“I think you have the wrong expectations of me,” she fired back. “All you care about is how I make you look, not how I want to feel: independent and capable of making my own decisions.”
Papa nodded. “I agree. You should be living life on your own terms. Which is why I’m closing the account and blocking your access to it.”
“What?” she whisper-yelled. “Papa, I need—”
He stood up and put one hand on her shoulder. “You need space from us. Understood. We won’t bother you or Veer again.”
Before she could react, he walked out of the lobby and back to the elevator. Harsha sat on the couch, gripping the armrest with both hands as her body shook with silent sobs. Papa wasn’t serious, right? She grabbed her phone and tried logging in to the secondary bank account, but after three error messages, she gave up and let the tears win.
The final sum was due today. What now? How could she tell Veer she didn’t have enough in her own account to pay him?
What if this changed the way he felt about her?
Because she knew now that she loved him—that she wanted to be with him, no matter the odds stacked against them. She wanted to make it work. She would do anything to make it work.
But she was helpless without the money, buried in the hole she had dug for herself, and there was no longer any guarantee Veer would pull her out of it.
Veer sat at the edge of the bed, his fingers interlocked in his lap. Nearly an hour had gone by since Harsha ran out in a rush. Nothing had gone wrong last night, as far as he knew…
She hadn’t replied to Veer’s confused texts yet. He had brushed his teeth, put on some clothes, and done push-ups on the floor to pass the time. She’d been gone a while, and they only had a few hours before she had to get ready to photograph the reception this afternoon.
When his phone vibrated with a call, he jumped, scrambling to answer it. But it said Ibrahim . Veer frowned. Why was he randomly getting a call from Ibrahim? “Hey,” he said, answering the call, “it’s nice to hear from you.”
“Where are you, man? Bangalore?” Ibrahim said. Voices sounded in the background; he was probably on set for another movie. His career was going places, for sure.
Veer shuffled his feet. Now wasn’t the time for a friendly call; his attention was elsewhere. “I’m a few hours away from the city for a wedding. Can we catch up later? I’ve had a crazy night—”
“It’s going to get crazier,” Ibrahim said. Veer could hear the grin in his voice. “Did you know Kunal Jowar’s filming a queer sitcom in Bangalore? Netflix picked it up. I had to back out of one of the secondary roles last-minute because I got a better job in Mumbai.”
“Okay…?”
“So I recommended you, sent them a tape I still had from our acting school days, and they loved it.”
Veer’s knees gave way; he sat back down on the bed. “I—you what?!”
“You’ve got yourself a final audition today,” Ibrahim said smugly. “They’ll email you the script soon. You can make it, right?”
“When is it?” he said, the words soft compared to the loud thumping of his heart.
“It’s at noon today. I know it’s super short notice, but I don’t want you to miss out on this opportunity, Veer. Promise me you’ll take it.”
“I…” Veer clutched his chest with a trembling hand. This was the best news he’d heard in months. Only four hours until the possibility of resuming his acting career not with a fizzle, but with a bang. A role in Kunal fucking Jowar’s sitcom! His life had finally come full circle.
And just as soon as the joy came, it faded. His veins filled with ice-cold water. He’d screw this up. He was sure. He hadn’t ever had a successful audition since the failed sitcom. Not even a callback. He wondered why they even short-listed him. Sure, he was proud of his tapes from his acting school days, but his résumé was subpar at best. Nothing but sheer dumb luck—and Ibrahim’s enthusiasm—could have made this happen.
“I can’t,” he said, and Ibrahim audibly sucked in a breath. “I’m going to fuck it up.”
“Like hell you are,” Ibrahim said, chuckling. “And listen, I recommended you, so if you’re a no-show, that affects my standing with Kunal.”
“You’re right.” Veer smiled softly. “I have to do this.”
“Good luck, man—and let me know how it goes!” He hung up.
Veer pressed his palms into his eyes. Shit, shit, shit. This felt like a dream, but it was actually happening. He let out a giddy whoop and continued pacing around the room. Harsha, get here now, he pleaded. She was the first person he wanted to share this news with. God, she’d be ecstatic for him. She would probably kiss him. And then he would tell her he loved her. For real this time, while looking into her beautiful gray eyes.
The door opened with a soft click. “Finally!” Veer exclaimed, racing out of the bedroom toward the living area of the suite. “Harsha, you won’t believe—” His words disappeared into thin air at the sight of Harsha’s crumpled, red face. “What…what’s wrong?”
She fell into his arms, unraveling into loud sobs. “I’m sorry,” she said in between hiccups. “I’m so sorry.”
He pressed her into his chest and wound his arms around her tighter. “What happened, Pixie?” he asked.
Harsha’s cries only worsened with the nickname, drenching his shirt with her tears. He stroked her hair and whispered quiet words of reassurance until she surfaced. She wiped her nose with a trembling hand and motioned for him to sit down on the plush couch. He thought she would join him, but she took a seat across from him on a chair.
This…was not looking good to Veer.
“We have a problem,” she started, interlocking her fingers. “My dad knows.”
A roaring sounded in Veer’s ears. “What—what do you mean? What does he know?”
Harsha sniffled. “That you’re a barista. That I’ve been paying you.”
Veer jerked up from the couch onto his feet as his world came crashing down. He opened his mouth, attempting to speak, but no words escaped him. “What does this mean?” he whispered finally.
A tear splashed down her cheek as she shook her head, and that told him everything before she voiced it. “He’s revoked my access to the secondary account. I…I can’t pay you the final amount.”
“That’s not possible.” He grabbed his hair. Images swam in his mind of what would happen now. Arjun would be called to the dean’s office. He’d find out the truth about his lying, unethical brother. And his MBA degree would no longer be reality. “No. No. No. Harsha”—he stared down at her with pained eyes—“tell me you’re joking.”
She stood up too. Her knees shook, or maybe it was Veer’s vision getting more and more unsteady by the second. “I don’t know what to do, Veer.” Harsha choked out another sob. “I need you to tell me this doesn’t change anything between—”
“Oh my god.” Veer clawed at the panic swirling in his chest. No. He had to stay calm and figure this out. “What am I going to do now? Arjun’s tuition—if I don’t pay the final amount by Monday, he’ll be kicked out of school.”
Harsha stood up, reaching for him, but he pushed away from her.
“Veer—”
“If I fail at this, like I’ve failed at everything else so far, I’ll let down the most important people in my life, not just myself.” He sank to his knees, crying, as reality sank in.
She crouched down beside him, her hand on his shoulder. Her touch was cool as always, but for the first time ever, it couldn’t soothe Veer. “Give me some time,” she said. “I’ll try to figure something out.”
He licked his dry lips. He didn’t have time. Not with the college’s deadline, and not with the looming audition. If he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t have enough time to make it home and go through the script. “I’m sorry, Harsha, but I have to go.”
“W-what?”
“I got an audition for this afternoon, and I can’t miss it. I…Ineed that opportunity, now more than ever.” He grabbed his things from the bathroom and the bedroom, while Harsha trailed after him. As he shoved his toiletries and shoes into the suitcase, she said, “I know we need to talk about last night, but…”
He couldn’t think about anything except his brother’s impending expulsion. The roaring in his ears was too loud, the breaking of his heart too painful. So all he said was “I meant all of it, I swear, but I can’t think about that right now. I need to make it home on time.”
When he dragged his suitcase closer to the door, Harsha strode forward, blocking his path, her arms folded over her chest. Her eyes were red-rimmed. “Was this just about the money?”
“It was never about the money,” Veer said, pushing past her. “I’m sorry, Harsha, but I have to go fix this, for my family’s sake. I don’t have a backup plan like you—and I don’t blame you for not understanding.”
“Veer—”
“I’ll talk to you soon. I promise.” He opened the door and walked out of the hotel room, stifling his urge to look back at the only woman he’d ever loved as her sniffles echoed in the silence of the hallway.