6. The Green-Eyed Monster
The Green-Eyed Monster
Jai
‘We’re talking about twenty lehengas with each running nearly sixty thousand over material cost. That’s a twelve lakh overspend. Where do you want me to cut that from?’ Mohit, the CFO, demanded.
‘These are bridal lehengas; they need to be perfect. We’re not substituting these materials for cheaper options,’ Meera exhaled and crossed her arms.
I rubbed my head. We had been going in circles for the past hour with no solution in sight.
Ananya, who had been silent this entire time, looked up. ‘The overspend is primarily coming from the satin linings,’ she said, pushing her iPad forward. ‘Sixty thousand per piece, and it’s all internal. Can we use something cheaper?’
‘That lining is to maintain structure,’ Meera said. ‘I’m not compromising it for budget issues.’
Ananya remained silent, thinking.
‘I can have a look at the archive. See if we can find something that fits all our needs,’ Meera’s assistant suggested.
‘What about the bamboo silk blends we used in the 2022 festive line?’ Ananya exclaimed. ‘It will give the same structure and finish,’ she said, typing the numbers into the calculator, ‘at a forty per cent lower cost.’
Impressive. Over the past month of working with her, I’d come to realise she was smart and had an instinctive understanding of fashion. If she thought it would work, it would most likely work.
Meera didn’t look convinced. ‘The fall of bridal lehengas is much heavier.’
‘We can use the original lining for the three heaviest pieces. The rest will hold,’ her assistant chimed in.
‘It’ll cut costs by nearly five lakh without affecting the silhouette,’ Ananya said.
Rohan glanced at me. ‘If it checks out, it might be the best compromise.’
‘I’ll need to approve the fabric swatch,’ Meera said.
‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘Ananya, get the updated costing to Rohan, and the samples to Meera by five.’
The meeting wrapped up. People were still discussing timelines and numbers when Ananya and I walked out.
‘Good work in there,’ I said.
‘You were rubbing your forehead so much, I thought you’d start a fire any moment,’ she said with a cheeky grin. ‘I was just being a responsible employee. If my boss goes up in flames, who’s going to pay my salary?’
‘I’ll try to contain my combustion until your eight months here are over,’ I said dryly, a corner of my mouth lifting.
‘Appreciate it.’ She smiled, unbothered, and scrolled on her iPad. ‘Mr Harish Goenka called.’
‘Thanks.’
Once I was back in my office, I called Harish uncle. ‘Hi, uncle, how are you?’
‘I’m great, as always. Congratulations, beta. You must be over the moon after Harrods,’ he said. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
A smile formed. ‘Thank you.’
‘I just finished reading your proposal. It obviously needs work before you officially pitch it to the board, but you have a solid draft here. The Mahalas will be a great fit.’
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘Judging by their sales for the past three years, they need this. It’ll be a good opportunity for both of us.’
‘I wish Amar were here to see this. There was nothing he wanted more than to see you succeed,’ he said, his voice growing soft.
Dadaji’s name carried an ache that settled within me. ‘Me too,’ I murmured.
The rest of the day went smoothly. I replied to emails over a cup of chai, sat through a few online meetings and worked on my new line.
A knock, then the door swung open.
‘Arjun can’t make it. It’s you, Yuv and me,’ Ayaan said, walking in. ‘We’re going to celebrate by getting drunk and getting laid. Let’s go.’
I didn’t even look up from my screen. ‘I’ve got work to do.’
He groaned dramatically. ‘Bhai, you just closed Harrods. Harrods! And you’re sitting here like an eighty-year-old accountant.’
‘I need to finish this report, Ayaan.’
‘Not tonight,’ he said. ‘Closing Harrods is a big achievement. We need to go out and celebrate.’
‘Work isn’t going to get done by itself.’
‘Neither is your social life,’ he shot back. ‘Come on. You’ve earned one night out. You can go back to being a workaholic tomorrow.’
I leaned back, resigned. ‘You’re not going to stop, are you?’
He grinned, already knowing he’d won. ‘Not a chance.’
I sighed. ‘Fine.’
‘Yes!’ He punched the air. ‘That’s the spirit. We’ll toast to HoA, Harrods and your eventual downfall at the hands of tequila.’
I shook my head, unable to stop the smile tugging at my lips. ‘You’re impossible.’
‘That’s what makes me fun,’ he said, slinging an arm over my shoulder as we walked out. ‘Now come on, Mr COO, let’s remind you what joy feels like.’
Ananya’s desk was empty when we walked out. She’d stopped by thirty minutes ago to ask if I needed anything. When I said no, she asked if she could head out. Naturally, I said yes. It was a bit odd, though, because she always left with me.
She must have plans.
Maybe with the friend she was calling from the stockroom weeks ago. Their conversation irked me at first, but it forced me to reflect on my behaviour and fix things before they festered.
And I was glad I did. It took some time, but we’d found our rhythm.
I thought no one could complement my working style the way Kavita did. I’d resigned myself to coasting through temps until she returned, which was why I hadn’t even bothered interviewing the candidates myself.
But Ananya proved me wrong. She was sharp, dependable and a breath of fresh air I didn’t realise I needed.
Dilip drove us to 145 Kala Ghoda. Ayaan was already in an oversized shirt and pants, practically vibrating with energy. I left my suit jacket and tie in the car, undid the first two buttons of my shirt and rolled up the sleeves for a more casual look.
A narrow set of stairs led us to the bar.
Warm lights, low thrum of music and the buzz of conversation engulfed us the moment we entered. The air smelled of food and whisky.
I decided I’d stay an hour, maybe two tops, then make an excuse and leave.
‘I see Yuv,’ Ayaan said, already cutting through the crowd towards the bar. I followed.
Yuvraj sat on a stool, one hand propped on the bar counter as he said something. The woman next to him laughed. When he spotted us, his grin widened. ‘The man of the hour!’ He stood up and pulled me into a hug. ‘Congratulations, Jai.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, patting his back as he turned to clap Ayaan on the shoulder.
The bartender put down three shot glasses and filled them with tequila.
‘Shots!’ he cheered, handing one to both of us before grabbing his own. ‘To Jai!’
We clinked the glasses.
Oh, hell. I tossed it back, the burn hitting my throat hard. As I set the glass down, some movement to my right caught my eye. I turned and froze.
Ananya.
‘I’ll be back,’ I said and headed straight to her.
My steps slowed as I approached her.
Lush, wavy hair tumbled down her back. Her skin had a sun-kissed glow that didn’t need make-up, but I was sure she was wearing some. The black dress she wore was simple and elegant – calf-length, sleeveless – but it fit as if it were custom-made. Clean lines. Soft fabric. Exquisite.
‘Ananya, hi!’ I said, my voice coming out a touch breathless.
She looked up, startled for a moment before her expression softened into surprise. ‘Jai. Hi. What are you doing here?’
‘I’m here with Ayaan. And Yuvraj, a friend of mine. We’re celebrating the Harrods deal,’ I replied. ‘You?’
‘I’m here with some office friends,’ she said, gesturing to the table behind her.
About ten to twelve people sat around a table littered with half-empty drinks and food.
‘Ananya, hey.’ A guy arrived and hugged her. ‘You look gorgeous.’
My lips pressed together. I recognised him. Rishi. He often lingered at her desk and brought her chai, chit-chatting like they were best friends.
He finally noticed me.
‘Oh. Jai sir,’ he said, caught off guard, then quickly composing himself. ‘Hi.’
Conversation stalled when people heard him, their attention slowly turning to me. A few put their drinks down. Others sat straighter, exchanging uncertain glances. A ripple of awkwardness spread, subtle but unmistakable.
Before I could excuse myself and let them enjoy their evening, an arm landed around my shoulder.
‘Who do we have here?’
Ayaan.
He grinned at the group, radiating his usual easy charm. Yuv appeared right beside him, drink in hand.
‘Hey guys!’ Ayaan said, instantly identifying a few faces. ‘Mind if we join you? We didn’t make a reservation, and everything’s packed tonight.’
‘Of course not!’ one of the women said brightly.
Ayaan quickly introduced Yuv to everyone, and we settled around the table. I slid into the empty seat beside Ananya. She shifted slightly to make space, and I caught a whiff of her perfume. A soft, floral scent.
‘Small world, huh?’ I asked, a faint smile tugging at my mouth.
‘Tiny,’ she replied lightly, not quite meeting my eyes.
The others were already deep in conversation with Ayaan and Yuv – laughing, teasing, ordering another round of drinks.
Our knees brushed under the table. A fleeting sensation. But what it sparked was anything but small.
She stilled, glancing at me before looking away again, reaching for her glass.
A waiter arrived at the table with a hot pizza and placed it in the centre.
I turned to everyone. ‘Let’s get this party started. Two rounds of J?gerbombs for the table. On me.’
The response was exactly what I expected: a collective murmur of surprise, followed by easy smiles, claps and glasses raised in appreciation. Conversation flowed once again.
‘So dinner reservations and drinks. What are the other bribes you give your employees to play nice?’ Ananya asked, her voice playful.
‘Salaries,’ I replied instantly.
Rishi chuckled from across the table. ‘They do an excellent job.’
No one asked you.
‘Thanks for the invite,’ Ananya said to him. ‘This is fun.’
‘Please,’ Rishi grinned. ‘The party hasn’t even started yet.’ He leaned in. ‘Real fun begins once everyone is a few drinks down. Might need to give it an hour or two.’
The server returned, carefully balancing two trays full of shots.
‘Or maybe ten minutes,’ Rishi added.
‘Shots!’ someone at the table shouted, and the whole group cheered.