Chapter 4
Four
RAASHI
“I brought Raashi with me!” Akka told Satan. “We’re here to support you.”
Raashi rolled her eyes at her sister’s determined obliviousness. Vedakka had decided that if she kept forcing Raashi and Harsh to spend time together, they would eventually get along. A plan that was doomed to failure.
As if responding to her mental musings, Satan gave her a look of deepest loathing. She dug deep into her reserves and returned the look in equal, if not greater, measure. If he thought she wanted to be here in the middle of this fake, brainless crowd, he could go soak his head.
“We’re so happy for you Harsh.” Akka was looking around the room now, her eyes brightening at the sight of the gazillion celebrities wandering around.
Raashi rolled her eyes again. Her sister was married to a man who made these vapid, self-obsessed twits look like babies playing at stardom. And still, she looked star struck.
Harsh’s languid gaze looked over Veda’s head and at Raashi. He took in the outfit she’d dug out from the black hole in the back of her cupboard for tonight. Raashi didn’t do dresses. She did jeans and cargo pants or best of all, track pants with sweatshirts and oversized t-shirts. But tonight was important to her sister. So, tonight she dressed up.
A hot flush crept up her cheeks as he continued to scan her like a freaking x-ray machine. She fidgeted with the pink chiffon of her dress, self-consciously rearranging it.
“What?” she muttered.
“What the heck are you wearing?” he murmured, his voice low enough for Veda not to hear.
She shrugged irritably. “Akka said it needed to be fancy.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean fancy dress,” he snorted, muffling his snicker with a sip of his drink.
Rage and embarrassment coursed through her at the amusement in his voice. Fuck him. She didn’t belong in this world and she sure as hell didn’t want to belong in it. Raashi knew exactly what kind of snakes slithered through high society. She’d learned her lesson a long time ago and didn’t need a revision class in it. She was about to think up a scathing retort to his taunt, but her sister turned towards them cutting off the building argument.
“Is that Venugopal Iyer?” Veda asked now, her voice filled with awe at the sight of the legendary choreographer.
“Yes.” Harsh’s expression softened as he looked at Veda’s excited face. “Want to meet him?”
Veda bobbed her head, words seeming to fail her. But before they could make their way over, Mr. Iyer disappeared into the theatre. The show was about to start.
“Never mind,” Veda said, disappointment written all over her face. Then, she brightened again like a glow stick. “I’m so excited to watch your movie, Harsh. I’m sure it’s brilliant.”
Raashi snorted. Harsh’s back stiffened at the sound. Brilliant, her arse. Same archaic formula, same misogynistic bullshit. It would be a super hit, but it wouldn’t be brilliant. That was for sure.
“We’re so happy for you. Aren’t we Raashi?” Veda glanced at her, warning darkening her big eyes. Where was that warning when Satan was being nasty about her dress? Her sister was a total Kodela sell-out.
“Thrilled,” Raashi grunted. “Congratulations.”
Harsh made some weird gargling noise back at her, clearly choking on her insincere wishes.
Raashi followed the two of them into the darkened theatre. Harsh led them to the front and seated them in plush recliners in the second row before going to sit in the front row with the curvy bombshell who’d been clinging to him like a tick on a dog earlier.
The movie began with Harsh beating up what looked like twenty men single handed. Miraculously, his shirt shredded itself right off his body to reveal those ridiculous abs of his. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen those abs before. The stupid man kept whipping his shirt off at the drop of a hat. But a self-shredding shirt…that was new. She wondered how science explained this phenomenon.
Curvy ditz squealed in excitement in the front row and clung to Harsh like she was having an orgasm watching the scene. Raashi groaned, sinking into her recliner and shutting her eyes. If she kept watching, she was going to eye roll herself into a migraine before this night ended. Better to keep her eyes shut till the movie ended. The damn recliner was ridiculously comfortable and with her eyes closed, Raashi could imagine she was anywhere but here. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Raashi!”
She mumbled, rolling over in her bed. Someone shook her. Hard. Teeth rattling, Raashi opened her eyes to Veda’s furious eyes and Harsh’s annoyed but strangely amused ones. Oh! She wasn’t in her bed!
“You fell asleep,” Veda hissed.
“No, I didn’t,” Rashi muttered defensively, knowing she damn well had.
“You were snoring!”
“I was not!” Had she been? She patted her cheek to see if she’d also been drooling. It was something she’d been known to do.
“It’s the intermission,” Harsh interjected. “Can I get you both something to eat or drink? There’s champagne.”
“No, thank you,” Veda said just as Raashi yelped, “Yes.”
The two of them looked at her, one furious and puzzled, the other smirking like he was enjoying himself a little too much.
“Yes to champagne,” she muttered, feeling like a five year old as she struggled to get out of the stupid recliner. Being vertically challenged meant her feet didn’t touch the floor when she got into one of these high-above-the-ground chairs. It also meant that she currently looked like an overturned beetle in front of the one man she detested above all others.
And the dick just stood there, with his hands in his pants pocket, watching her struggle. At no point did he offer to help her to her feet. Veda reached for her, but she batted her sister’s hands away, refusing to let him watch her accept help to do something as simple as stand.
She gained her feet in an ungainly rush just as the server arrived with three champagne flutes. She grabbed one and drained it before any of the others could even manage a sip of their own.
“Easy,” Veda murmured, her anger giving way to worry. “Are you okay, Raash?”
“Yes.” She looked around for somewhere to place her empty glass but couldn’t find anything. So, she held on to it, her nails tapping against the glass restlessly.
“Are you ever okay Rash?” Satan sneered, mangling her nickname like he always did.
“It’s Raashi to you,” she told him coldly. A waiter walked past with a tray full of glasses of champagne and she swiped another one, took a large sip. Okay, it was more of a gulp but there was no need to nitpick.
“Okay Rash.” He said again as he tipped his glass at her. He hadn’t taken a sip yet, she noted.
Raashi growled, her frustration with this man’s very existence rising to the fore.
“Don’t you have anyone else to talk to?” She took another gulp.
“Nope.” He drew the word out making a loud sound with the ‘p’, grinning at her. “Nowhere I’d rather be than here.”
“I see Iyer Sir!” Veda exclaimed suddenly, wandering off to introduce herself to the choreographer before either of them could react. Clearly, she couldn’t handle another second of the two of them together.
“Why are you here?” Harsh asked abruptly, the minute Veda was out of earshot.
“Akka.” Raashi shrugged, knowing that was self-explanatory. She chugged her glass to keep from saying more. People were glancing over at the two of them, judgy side eyes that had her back going up. She hated this world that her family and Harsh’s reveled in. She especially hated the people in it. Case in point, the fool standing in front of her.
“I mean why are you here in India? America threw you out?”
“Yes,” she said blandly. “They did.” She drained her glass, her bitterness making even the excellent champagne taste like rat’s piss.
“Some more?” Satan asked, holding out his still full glass.
She grabbed for his glass, feeling like a fish out of water in this ridiculously glamorous setting. One more glass would help with that. She could already feel the first two going to her head. One more and she might even be able to tolerate the Great Harsh Kodela.
“Easy Raash,” Veda said, worriedly, suddenly reappearing beside her. “You know you’re not good with alcohol.”
Satan laughed. “Cheap drunk, are you? Should have known.”
So much for tolerating him. Raashi flushed, temper sparking. “Atleast, I’m only a cheap drunk. You, on the other hand, are just cheap.”
Harsh’s gaze flattened, his mouth going tight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means,” Raashi sniped, stepping forward to go toe-to-toe with him. “You’re a cheap ass.”
“Listen Viper, no one needs your brand of poison here.” Harsh kept his voice low, his hard gaze on her.
“Listen Manwhore, no one needs your relentless sexing up either. Just because that’s the only thing you’re capable of, doesn’t mean it’s the only thing you need to do.” She smiled, tauntingly, the champagne fizzing through her bloodstream and egging her on. “Not all women want a walking, talking dick. Some of us like the guy to possess more than a single, functioning brain cell.”
He stilled, his entire body locking down.
A breathy gasp brought her to her senses. All around them conversation ceased as people turned to look at them. Raashi hadn’t bothered keeping her voice down like Harsh had. Curvy ditz was staring at her with her hands over her mouth. Veda seemed to be channeling her husband and looked murderous. And Harsh…Harsh’s blank, impassive expression told her nothing and yet, she read every unsaid word and thought in it.
“I, I, I –“ she stammered. She didn’t get a word out past that before Veda’s hand curled around her upper arm and started dragging her out of there. Low murmurs picked up behind them as they walked through the crowded room, people parting for them in silence.
Raashi glanced back to where Harsh still stood. He was looking at her, that same formidably impassive expression on his face, his entire body motionless. A pang of shame rushed through her and she opened her mouth to call out an apology, but before she could do so, Harsh turned away, deliberately giving her his back.
Veda led her out of the theatre, her guards falling into line around them so they could get into their car without getting mobbed. The door shut on them ensconcing them into the quiet of the plush, still car.
“Akka, I-“
“No.” For once, her calm, sweet sister sounded furious. Quietly, dignifiedly furious but furious, nonetheless. “You crossed a line, Raashi. There is no excuse for it.”
Raashi sank back into her seat, feeling small and ashamed. “I know. I’ll apologise,” she said quietly.
“You will,” Veda confirmed, her pretty face set in hard lines. “First thing in the morning.”
Fuck her life, Raashi thought gloomily. She was never drinking champagne again.