Chapter 10 #2
Mina stepped aside and motioned for Virat and his parents to go first. She held Sanjeev back, and when everyone was out of earshot, she whirled to face him.
“What the hell is this?” she hissed.
Sanjeev crossed his arms over his chest. “This is a business meal.”
“They still think I’m going to agree to marry Virat, Sanjeev. What games are you playing?”
“None at all,” he said. His skin looked oily in the dim light, and she hated that he always reminded her of a snake.
“You said that this wasn’t an option any longer if I’m working on Bharat.”
“But you haven’t delivered on Bharat yet,” Sanjeev said. “I don’t know what’s taking so long.”
“It’s due diligence, not a game of tic- tac- toe. I have to go through all the steps for the board.”
Sanjeev stepped around her and started toward the dining room. “Fine. But until I get the answer I want from Bharat, you’re going to be an eligible match for Virat. I’m going to get my worth out of working with you, Mina. Otherwise, what good are you?”
His words were delivered in a way to inflict maximum pain. She’d worked her ass off her whole life, and for Sanjeev to minimize her like that was a kick to the gut.
Instead of engaging, she squared her shoulders and followed him into the dining room. Virat and his family were already seated at the polished mahogany table. It was obvious that the empty seat next to him was where she was expected to sit.
He smiled when she lowered onto the satin cushion chair and picked up a bowl in front of her plate. Mina served herself some of the potatoes and held the dish out for Virat to take. He looked at her with a puzzled expression.
“Don’t you want some?” Mina asked.
“Uh, sure.” He took the dish and began scooping the food onto his plate. He passed it on to his mother, who shot daggers at Mina before she served her husband first and then herself.
Ah. Well, that explains it, Mina thought.
Like hell she was going to serve a man before she served herself.
She dug into the potato curry with relish. Ignoring the evil side- eye she was receiving from everyone. She’d almost managed to zone out when she heard a phone buzzing from the other room. Everyone paused and checked their pockets and devices.
“It’s mine,” she said quietly. “Feel free to ignore it.”
“No, it’s okay,” Virat said. “I wouldn’t be able to concentrate for the rest of dinner if I didn’t see who called.”
Desperately taking the opportunity for a few moments away, she mumbled an excuse and went back into the empty living room. Pulling her phone from the front pocket of her bag, she saw the missed call. Without thinking twice, she redialed.
“Hiriye,” Hem said smoothly. “Hem,” she replied, with almost desperate relief.
There was a long pause. “Mina? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m— I’m fine. Dinner at my father’s house with some guests.”
“In Edison?”
“How did you know that?” she asked.
“Background check. It’s required for all consultants who are working on premises for extended periods of time.”
Mina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Hem, is there a reason why you’re calling? I thought we were meeting tomorrow.”
“First tell me what’s wrong.”
Mina sat on the arm of the chair. “Nothing, I . . . It’s this dinner party. My father and my uncles are too much sometimes. I’m here for another hour unfortunately. Then I have to take the train back to Manhattan. It’s going to be a long night.”
Mina heard the sound of a car door slam, then an engine come to life. “Sit tight. I’ll pick you up.”
“What? Hem, you can’t come here.”
“I can. I’m in Alpine visiting my folks. It’ll take me an hour with traffic this time of night, but that’s when you wanted to leave anyway, right?”
“No, I’m fine. Please don’t?— ”
“Too late,” he said. “Mai tuhade lai a ri aahn.”
I’m coming for you.
He hung up the phone with the type of finality that had Mina wanting and wishing their relationship wasn’t so complicated.
“Mina?” She jerked and almost fell off the arm of the couch.
Virat stood behind her, hands in his pockets. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was . . . arranging someone to come and take me back to the city tonight. They were, uh, calling to confirm.”
He nodded. Silence stretched between them for an awkward beat.
“We should get back?—”
Virat nodded, but he didn’t step out of her way. “I know we’re in the middle of dinner, but I wanted to ask you if you’d be interested in going out sometime. We don’t have to think about mergers and our family pressuring us into an arrangement. It’ll be just you and me.”
She knew then that there was no way she could even entertain the thought of an arranged marriage, especially with someone who was a wet rag attached to heinous parents.
But unfortunately, it wasn’t the right time to tell him that information.
“Virat, I’m working on a really demanding case right now, and I really don’t have time to even think about dating.
I’m sorry. And I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to .
. . You know what? How about we talk about this some other time? ”
Virat nodded, then crooked his elbow for Mina. She accepted his arm and walked with him back to the dining room. “I have to say, I like you better without the heels. I feel more comfortable when you’re closer to my height,” he said.
“That’s too bad. I always wear heels.”
“Oh.” Virat frowned.
She ignored his disappointment and slipped back in her seat after they reentered the dining room. “I apologize for the interruption, everyone.”
“No apologies needed,” Virat’s father replied.
The conversation continued around Mina as she picked through her food, no longer hungry.
She didn’t know if it was because of Virat’s comments on her heels, or because she knew she was about to see Hem again.
She could barely pretend civility. She had to ignore the concerned expression on her father’s face, and the evil glare from Sanjeev Uncle the whole time, but she didn’t have it in her to correct her behavior.
Forty- five minutes later, dessert was served and Mina helped pass around the bowls filled with sweet gulab jamun soaking in sugar syrup. She loved gulab jamun, but tonight, all she could do was push her dessert around in her bowl.
“Mina, do you cook?” Virat’s mother asked, interrupting her thought process like a wrecking ball. The woman leaned forward and frowned at Mina’s plate.
“I can cook, yes, though I don’t have much time for it.”
“Mina is an amazing cook,” her father said. “Just like her mother used to be.”
The praise would’ve meant something to Mina if it had been genuine.
The truth was that her father hadn’t tasted anything she’d made since she was a teenager.
More importantly, she’d only learned how to keep her mother’s recipes alive because she missed them so much and her father was never home to grieve with her.
“Mina, are you a lawyer because of your father and uncles or because of your mother?” Virat’s father asked.
“My mother. She began Kohli & Associates.”
“Yes,” Sanjeev said with a sigh. “My sister was the oldest, and although she didn’t have a good head on her shoulders, she managed to make a living.”
Mina’s fork dropped to her plate. The clatter was loud enough for the room to grow silent.
“Mom was brilliant,” she said. “She made sure her two younger brothers finished college and law school. She had a win rate better than her peers at a time when South Asian women were hardly allowed in the courtroom. She made a fortune before I turned ten. If it wasn’t for her, none of us would be here. ”
Nakul snorted. “And if it wasn’t for her, we’d already be a top ten firm. Her drinking got so bad that we were hemorrhaging clients. We almost had to sink the firm at one point.”
“Not to mention, her late- night parties gave us such a bad reputation,” Sanjeev added with a laugh.
“If my mother had a drinking problem, it was because she didn’t have a support system from the family that she’d helped raise,” Mina said, gripping the edge of the table.
She’d heard this vitriol before, and knew it wasn’t true, but how dare they bring it up in front of strangers?
How dare they continue to sully her mother’s reputation?
Her heart pounded at the looks of pity from around the table. She expected her father to say something, to say anything, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Mina doesn’t see her mother the same way we do,” Sanjeev said, his expression smug. “Nakhul, I’m surprised you haven’t talked to your daughter about how bad it had gotten before her death!”
Nakul laughed. “Probably because he had to deal with Mina on a regular basis. Who wants to put up with our little Mina’s fury?”
That was it. She’d had it. “The only thing I remember Mom saying was how much of a disgrace her brothers were,” she said, pointing to her uncles.
Mina put her napkin on the table next to her plate and shoved her chair back.
“And seriously, Dad? You’re not going to say one thing to defend your wife?
You’re a mediocre attorney at best, and you’d be chasing ambulances if it wasn’t for mom. ”
Sanjeev roared as he got to his feet. Mina’s father turned pale. The Aulakh’s looked horrified.
Virat’s mother was the first to speak. “You’d speak to your uncles and father like that?”
“Yes. And my mother did, too.” Mina stood from the table for the second time during the meal, her hands shaking. “I just wish she learned earlier not to trust any of them. Excuse me, my ride should be here. It was a . . . pleasure.”
She left the room, her strides stiff, her pulse fast. It took her three tries before she was able to pick up her purse.
She’d wait outside or at the corner of the block if she had to, but there was no way she could sit in that room with her family any longer.
How dare they try to stain her mother’s legacy?
She had to find out what Sanjeev was doing with Bharat and hold him accountable. Then maybe she could kick him out of the firm, and she’d have a fighting chance of taking it over. Of saving what her mother had once built.
Her phone buzzed in her bag just as she reached the front entrance.
She heard Virat call after her, but she bolted outside and was already jogging down the walkway.
Thank god for small miracles, she thought.
The Bentley hadn’t even come to a full stop when she yanked open the door and slid in the passenger seat.
“Mina? What?— ”
“Drive,” she said.
Thankfully, Hem didn’t argue.
She saw Virat through the side mirror just as the car peeled onto the street. Hem’s warm hand touched her fist and stroked the tightness in her knuckles. The pressure was so soft, so comforting that she began shaking.
Minutes passed, until finally Mina’s grip loosened and she linked her fingers with Hem’s.