CHAPTER 43
Maya
OUR CONFRONTATION WITH CHARLES WHITAKER WAS the domino that tipped the rest over. Once we cornered him into confessing, everything else fell into place.
He kept his end of the bargain and admitted to his wrongdoings during a highly televised press conference the following Monday.
He also resigned as CEO and fled New York, disgraced.
In the wake of his confession, Whitaker Farms’s stock nosedived so hard, they were still picking pieces of its carcass off the ground.
Unfortunately for him, their stock crash was the least of his troubles.
The journalists who’d witnessed our showdown at the steakhouse had spent the weekend sniffing around for dirt.
One of them hit the jackpot soon after the press conference and published an exposé about Whitaker Farms’s food fraud practices, which included unapproved additives, mislabeling of origins, and false claims about their products’ organic status.
Once that story took off, the other media piled on, and the truth about his other crimes unraveled like a cheap sweater. It only took a month for all this to come to light.
The Whitaker saga was the biggest scandal to hit the business world in years. It also meant that both Singh Foods and the Laurent Restaurant Group were cleared of any previous suspicions regarding food safety.
That made it easier to plan our second launch. It was a much more intimate, no-frills affair held at the Vault’s private event space. We’d scheduled it for the end of July, nearly two months after our original launch.
Everyone we’d invited to our first launch RSVP’d yes to this one as well. Sebastian and I also invited our families, who were seated at their own section near the kitchen.
This time, there were no fancy place settings or sweeping views. It was all about the food.
“I have to admit, this wasn’t how I’d imagined your story playing out,” Hollis Miller said upon arrival. He didn’t say hi or acknowledge the greeter trying to hand him a welcome drink. “Good job. Guess you deserve your reputation as a marketing genius after all.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “But in the spirit of brutal honesty—since that’s your catchphrase—I’d like to assure you that I do not care what you think of me personally.
You’re a jerk, but you’re a jerk who gets a lot of views, which is the only reason you’re here.
” I took the drink from the greeter and handed it to him. “Enjoy your dinner.”
Shock crossed his face before it dissolved into laughter. “I like you, Singh. Keep up the good work.” He took the drink and walked away.
What a dick.
At least he hadn’t taken offense at my jab. I’d couched it in a way that I knew he wouldn’t, but it had to be said.
Plus, as much as he irritated me, I appreciated that he hadn’t joined last month’s media pile-on. His video about our first launch had been surprisingly fair, though I guess it was easier to gloss over all the vomiting when you yourself hadn’t been a victim of it.
Once everyone was seated, Ezra gave me a thumbs-up from his spot near the kitchen.
The doors opened; dinner was served.
I held my breath the entire night—if it went off the rails, we wouldn’t get a third chance—but everything went flawlessly from start to finish.
Sebastian had tweaked the menu so we didn’t serve the same courses as last time, and the reception was phenomenal.
The guests enjoyed tonight’s menu even more than the first one (pre-laxatives).
Three hours later, they left, stuffed and satisfied, and I was weightless with relief.
We did it.
I didn’t know what the critics’ final reviews would say, but fuck it, we’d planned and executed this event in less than a month. That was worth celebrating, no matter what happened next.
The kitchen door swung open again, and Sebastian walked out, looking tired but hopeful. When I smiled, his face broke out into a relieved grin.
“You ready?” he asked.
I nodded, my cloud of bliss dissolving into nerves.
The night wasn’t over quite yet. We had one item left on our agenda. One more mountain to climb, and then we were home free—hopefully.
I’d asked our families to stay after the other guests left.
Everyone was here—our parents, my grandmother, my sisters, my current and future brothers-in-law.
I’d also invited Diya, who looked like an old-school film star in her all-black outfit and gold jewelry.
We paid her extremely well, and she’d accumulated a large jewelry collection over the years.
Sebastian and I walked over to where they were seated. After the requisite greetings and congratulations, they fell silent, their faces expectant as I took a deep breath.
“Thank you all for coming. Your support means a lot to us,” I said. “I realize it’s been a long night, but before you leave, Sebastian and I have something to tell you.”
Neha’s eyebrow arched, the only other visible emotion in a sea of curiosity. She hadn’t pushed me to tell our parents about Sebastian after my father and Michel made up, but her silent disapproval had telegraphed loud and clear.
I wasn’t doing this for her, though. I was doing this for us.
I cleared my throat, anxiety filling my veins. I wasn’t so nervous about my father’s reaction anymore since he and Michel were thick as thieves again, but this was my first time officially introducing a boyfriend to my family. It was a huge deal.
Sebastian let me take the lead like we’d agreed. I’d had a whole speech planned out, but I scrapped it and went for the simple truth instead.
“Sebastian and I are dating,” I said. “We’ve been dating since March.
We wanted to keep it a secret until after the launch so it wouldn’t distract from our work, but then the event turned into a disaster, and Dad and Michel were still fighting, so…
we kept it a secret for a while longer. But now that everything’s calmed down, and you’re all here, we thought it would be the right time to tell you. ”
It wasn’t my most eloquent speech, but it got the job done… I think?
My father frowned. My mother looked confused. Michel sat back and crossed his arms while my grandmother squeezed a wedge of lemon into her tea. Everyone remained silent, like they were waiting for more details.
“Um.” Sebastian and I exchanged befuddled glances. This was not how we’d imagined their reaction. Where was the shock? The crying? The happiness and/or anger? “That’s it,” I said. “That’s what we wanted to tell you.”
More silence.
I was starting to panic over whether they’d been body-snatched by pod people when Neha’s husband, of all people, spoke up first. “Cool,” he said.
“Wait.” Priya held up one hand. “You’re dating? Like dating dating?” She pointed to Sebastian with her other hand. “You and Sebastian, the boy you once made a voodoo doll of?”
Sebastian’s eyebrows winged up. He’d had no idea about the voodoo doll.
“I wish people would stop bringing that up,” I grumbled. “I was fifteen!”
Diya harrumphed. She’d never quite forgiven me for that stunt.
“It’s true that Seb and I haven’t always… seen eye to eye,” I said. “But we’re not teenagers anymore, and we got, um, closer while we were working on this launch. One thing led to another, and…” I shrugged, my skin burning hot enough to fry an egg on it.
I spared my family the details. I was sure no one wanted to know except for maybe Priya, the nosiest one in the bunch.
“Technically, I’ve liked her since we were teenagers,” Sebastian drawled.
“I always knew we were meant to be together. It took her a while to reach the same conclusion, but she got there.” He grinned at my little huff of annoyance, but I melted when he wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head.
That shook my mother out of her stupor.
“So this is real?” Her eyes darted between us. “You’ve really been dating since March?”
“Yes. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier, but like I said, there were extenuating circumstances…” I trailed off when I spotted the tears glistening in her eyes. “Um, Mom? Are you—”
“Oh, Maya!” She barreled toward us and nearly knocked me over with the force of her hug.
“I’m so thrilled! You have no idea. I was really worried you’d end up like your Meera Aunty, but my goodness, Sebastian Laurent.
You were always so adorable together, even when you were fighting.
” She pulled back, her eyes narrowing. “This is a real, exclusive relationship, right? Not one of those, what do you call it, situationships that your generation is so fond of?”
Where the hell had she learned the term “situationship”?
“It’s real,” I assured her.
“And exclusive,” Sebastian added, a tiny note of possessiveness in his voice. Warmth licked at my insides.
My mother started crying again. She hadn’t been this happy since her rose garden beat her frenemy Aisha’s for first place at the International Gardening Show.
Her unabashed display broke the tension, and everyone came up to speak with us and offer their congratulations. Sebastian’s parents were way more chill about us dating, though his mother did threaten to excommunicate him if he hurt me in any way. He laughed and promised that would never happen.
My father was the only one who remained seated. “Excuse me.” His mustache bristled with irritation. “You’ve been dating since March? So you were sneaking around while Michel and I were fighting? How—”
“Shut up, Neal,” my mother snapped in Hindi. “You are not going to ruin this moment for me. Now get over here and congratulate your daughter.”
He shut up and did as she asked.
I suspected he didn’t want my mother to ice him out again after the Laurent drama. Some battles were better left alone.