Hide-and-Seek #2
‘Did you check with Delhi?’ he asked.
Meera shook her head. ‘They’re already swamped with the festive line.’
‘Jaipur?’
‘They can’t handle this kind of bridal-level micro work.’ She looked deflated. ‘Neither can Lucknow. This was supposed to be the main piece of our line. If we don’t find a replacement, I’ll have to change it or scrap it altogether.’
That would be a shame. This was the best one of them all.
‘Why not hire new people?’ I suggested.
‘It’s not that simple,’ Jai replied. ‘There’s a selection process, training and other checks to be done. It would take months.’
So we needed a quick alternative.
A memory surfaced. ‘There is an independent workshop in Bhuj,’ I said. ‘They specialise in beadwork that is a lot like the one on this peacock. I saw it in their pop-up store at last year’s Mumbai expo.’
He didn’t even look at me. ‘No.’
‘But if you just ask for a sample or—’
‘I am not outsourcing bridal couture to some workshop you stumbled upon,’ he said sharply. ‘It would be best if you just do what you’re hired to do instead of my job. Now please, let me think.’
I’d spent an hour at their stall. Studied their technique. The precision of their beadwork, the way they layered colours, the durability of their finishes –
I remembered it being exceptional work. Work that could solve Meera’s problem.
But Jai had already decided I had nothing valuable to contribute. That I wasn’t serious. That I didn’t know what I was talking about. Heat rushed to my face.
‘We should consider it,’ Meera interjected, surprising both of us.
‘My team and I have spent countless hours perfecting these outfits. This lehenga is everyone’s favourite.
I don’t want to delay the line or modify my design.
If there’s even a ten per cent chance that she’s right, and that company is a good fit, it’s worth
a shot.’
The muscle in his jaw ticked. Once. Twice. ‘Ask them to send a sample,’ he said stiffly. ‘I want it here in forty-eight hours.’
I wanted to call him out for snapping at me without giving my idea a single thought. To gloat. Instead, I did something that would get under his skin. I gave him a sugar-dipped smile. ‘Of course.’
Jai turned sharply to Meera. ‘Was that all?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied, giving me a grateful nod.
Reassurance spread through me, lifting my spirits.
Outside, as we walked past a few glass doors, I realised that one of them would lead to Suraina ma’am’s studio.
If I ran into her, would I get a chance to stop and greet her?
Maybe I shouldn’t. If Jai decided to take a jab at me in front of her …
I shuddered at the thought. I’d want the ground to crack open and swallow me whole.
I snuck a peek at him.
We were nearing the end of the day, but he didn’t have a strand of hair out of place, a trace of exhaustion on his face or a crease in his suit. It was unfair that he looked like he had stepped out of a Vogue cover while the rest of us resembled overworked interns at a fashion show.
His eyes found mine.
I looked away, my face warming, but not before I caught a faint, grim smile.
He’d caught me staring. Of course, he had.
On my first day, I’d already learned four things: Jai was demanding, detail-oriented, valued time and was dismissive of input from people he didn’t yet respect.
If he was as reckless as Rekha said, why did everyone here seem to trust him?
I glanced at Jai’s back as he walked ahead, phone pressed to his ear.
Eight months. I had eight months to figure out who he really was. And to make sure he never figured out why I was really here.
The rest of the day passed without hiccups. By the time I got home, all I wanted was to crawl into my bed and stay there until I was made Suraina ma’am’s assistant.
Rhea took one look at me and handed me the takeout menu from our favourite Chinese restaurant. We curled up on the couch, and I told her about my eventful day and my dictator-of-a-boss while we waited for the food to be delivered.
‘But look at the bright side,’ she said, opening the door when the bell rang. She grabbed a familiar white plastic bag and handed the delivery guy some cash. ‘You’re not fired.’
‘Yet,’ I mumbled, helping her unpack the food on the dining table. I inhaled the smell of the most delicious Schezwan rice, Manchurian gravy and spring rolls in the world. Just what I needed.
‘Stop being so negative,’ she scolded. ‘At least you’ll have money. And freedom. Isn’t that what you wanted at the end of the day?’
‘I also wanted to be Suraina Mukherjee’s assistant.’
‘And you will be. You’re just …’ She waved the forks and spoons in her hand before setting them down. ‘Taking a little detour first.’
Maybe she was right. Three days ago, I was ready to do any job I could, and now I was complaining about the one I had. I should be grateful for what I had.
‘You’re also protecting House of Advani from potential sabotage,’ she said. ‘You’re basically a hero.’
A small laugh escaped my lips. Just like that, I felt the tension slip away. ‘Have I mentioned how much I love you?’
‘You can start by doing these dishes.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘Now let’s eat. I’m starving.’
‘Go ahead,’ I said. ‘I’ve got one last thing to do.’
I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
‘What is it?’
‘Updating Rekha,’ I replied as I opened her chat. My fingers hovered over the keypad.
I thought about Kavita’s words. Kind. Generous. Strong values. I thought about how Meera looked at him – with respect, not fear. How the studio employees seemed comfortable around him.
‘You okay?’
‘What if Rekha’s wrong?’
‘Then you tell her there’s nothing to worry about and collect your pay cheque for eight months.’ Rhea shrugged. ‘But you don’t know that yet. So, for now ... report what you saw. Facts only.’
I nodded and typed out the day’s events: meetings, the packaging vendor incident, bridal line updates and the workshop drama.
I read it again. Then hit send.
It was all going to work out. Probably. Hopefully.