Chapter 17
Seventeen
HARSH
She was a pocket size version of dynamite. You needed to handle her right or she’d blow, shattering you to smithereens with the impact. But when you got it right, man the thrill was something else. Was that her attraction, he mused? The challenge?
He watched her swallow the last bite of her pork bao, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lower lip. Lust slammed through him, making him bobble his cigarette and almost set fire to himself. He put it out before he could do any more damage.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, reaching for the biryani and heaping a little mound of it on to her plate.
His stomach grumbled as he looked from his quinoa salad to her buffet like spread. The woman had the appetite of a truck driver and was completely unashamed of it. He fucking loved it. He was sick and tired of people picking at a lettuce leaf in front of him. He looked at his quinoa salad again. No lettuce but pretty much the same principle.
“Share?” he asked, pointing at the biryani bowl.
Raashi grinned, shoving the entire bowl across at him. “Wondered how long it would take for you to cave. I figured you’d last longer than this.”
“You are the devil,” he said, pointing a fork at her. “I’m going to need an extra hour at the gym to work this off.”
She made a pfft noise, not seeming very bothered by his travails. Why would she be anyway? This woman was his biggest travail.
He pffted back at her, even as he served himself a little biryani. It was nothing compared to the mountain on her plate, but still it was something. His tastebuds came alive as the fragrance of the rice wafted up to him.
“What’s your deal?” she asked, scraping up more biryani to shovel into the bottomless pit that was her stomach.
“My deal?” Harsh took a smaller bite of his, moaning as the flavours exploded in his mouth.
“Your deal,” she repeated. “Why are you-“
But whatever she’d been about to say died a premature death as her gaze locked on something behind him. Harsh frowned, turning to see what had gotten her attention.
Not something. Someone.
As he watched, the spoon in Raashi’s hand started to tremble, grains of rice falling off and raining down on to her plate. Her face was bone white, her eyes wide, pupils blown as she stared at the man seated in the far end of the room.
He turned back to the man in time to see him raise his glass in a toast to Raashi. He looked vaguely familiar. Harsh riffled through his mental memories but couldn’t pin down exactly where he knew him from. But clearly, Raashi knew him and knew him well.
“Rash?” he asked.
Her spoon clattered to her plate, food spilling everywhere. “I need to go,” she whispered, the words broken and guttural. “I need to go now.”
“Of course.” He stood along with her, not bothering to look back again. He knew what fear looked like. He’d stared it down often enough to recognise it without even having to feel it. And he also knew that Raashi owed him no explanations. If she wanted to go, she wanted to go.
He tossed enough money on the table to cover their bill, signaled to Murthy to collect it and followed Raashi’s frantic stride from the room. They almost made it to the front door. Almost. Harsh even had his hand on the doorknob when he heard the click of the dining hall door open.
“Raashi? What a pleasant surprise!”
Smooth words, a deceptively polished voice, and an overwhelming whiff of cologne formed Harsh’s initial impression of the man who approached them. He had the kind of dark, brooding good looks that women world over adored. He was vaguely familiar but Harsh couldn’t quite place him.
Beside him, Raashi stayed silent, her eyes on the approaching man, looking for all the world like Lucifer himself, strolling up to them. Instinctively, Harsh reached for her hand, twining his fingers with her trembling ones. Her hand was ice cold.
“How long have you been in town? I didn’t even know you were back.” His tone was chiding, like an avuncular uncle to a disobedient child. “You’ve been coming to Hyderabad and leaving without even telling me every time.”
Raashi still said nothing.
“What are you even doing here? This is the last place I expected to see you.”
Still nothing. The silence was deafening now. Harsh looked from Raashi’s frozen, white face to the other man’s genial one. Instinct prickled as he glanced between the two. Something was wrong here. Very wrong.
“How long are you here for? We must catch up. Just you and me.”
“No.”
Her reply was the barest breath of sound but Harsh heard it. His hand tightened around hers, a silent show of support.
“We can go to that restaurant you love, the one with the tandoori chicken. Remember? You said it was better than Bade Miyan kababs. Do you remember how I fed you every bite?”
Harsh stepped forward, blocking Raashi from the other man’s line of sight without relinquishing his hold on her hand.
“Hello.” He smiled, the wide smile people always underestimated. “We haven’t met. I’m-“
“Harsh Kodela I know.” The man flashed a dismissive smile at him. “I know your family.”
“Ahh that’s an easy one,” Harsh replied. “But the real question is, does my family know you?”
He saw the comment strike, right on the mark. The man’s face tightened, his expression going from genial to vicious in a heartbeat.
“Careful little boy. I’m not one of your father’s minions to toy with.”
“That’s true.” Harsh pretended to be chastened. “At least I know the names of the minions. You on the other hand…”
“Really Raashi.” He attempted to look over Harsh’s shoulder at Raashi. “This man child is whom you’re choosing to spend time with.”
She stiffened. A second’s pause and then she stepped out from behind the protective cover of Harsh’s body. He noticed she still had a death grip on his hand through.
“Yes,” she answered, this time the word coming out with strength. “Harsh is whom I choose to spend my time with.”
She was trying to protect him, he realised, from the other man’s insults. Surely, she knew Harsh had a thicker skin than that? He’d survived years of her insults, hadn’t he?
“Ridiculous.” The other man snorted. “I saw the news in the gossip columns but put it down to speculative nonsense. Why would you date him ?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Raashi tossed the question back, leaning into Harsh’s side as if to offer comfort. “I doubt I could do better than Harsh Kodela in this lifetime.”
She didn’t even choke on the words, he marveled. But before he could say anything the other man sneered.
“Really Raashi? This is what you got your Phd for? To fuck a man who didn’t even clear his twelfth-grade board exams? Whose father had to pay for him to get his certificates so they could maintain their reputation in society? To be seen with a man whose own father refers to him as his biggest mistake.”
He glanced at Harsh’s frozen face. “Oh yes, Jr. Kodela. You may not know me, but I know you. I know everyone.”
Everything around Harsh went silent as the man’s words tumbled and spun in the air around them. He didn’t dare look at Raashi, shame coursing through him. What could he even say? Every word spoken had been the truth. His truth.
“No,” she answered, this time her voice ringing through the tiny corridor. “I didn’t get a Phd so I could fuck him. If we needed academic degrees to sleep with people, you’d be a born-again virgin, wouldn’t you? After all, your degrees are accumulating dust while you spend time earning money from people’s misfortunes.”
“Why?” The man stepped closer to her. “Why are you with him?”
“Because I choose to be,” she answered coolly, tipping her chin up to meet the other man’s cold gaze. “Harsh is my choice and I owe no one any explanations about that. Especially not you. He is my –“
“Fiancé.” The word left him on an explosive rush. Raashi didn’t look at him, her entire body stilling and seeming to be locked in place. “The wedding is in less than a month. We’ll be sure to send you an invite.”
“Wedding?” The other man’s eyes narrowed, fury sparking in his eyes. “I didn’t see anything about that in the news.”
“Surprise.” Raashi smiled, a coldly vicious smile even as her fingers trembled in Harsh’s grip. “I guess your spies don’t quite have their fingers in every pie worth knowing.”
Harsh lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her palm. Her hand shook so hard it almost fell out of his grasp.
“I think this is going to be the biggest mistake of your life.”
“Anant,” Raashi drawled. “When are you going to realise that nobody gives a fuck what you think.”
Anant… Anant…Oh Fuck! Anant Madhavan. CEO and Founder of TV Plus, Chaitanya Gadde’s one time partner and now biggest competitor. No wonder the dickhead was familiar.
And he’d just told him that Raashi and he were getting married in less than a month.
Oh fuckity fuck…they were in trouble.