four Tick Tick Boom
four
Tick Tick Boom
The shrill sound of the doorbell jostled me out of my daze.
Reluctantly, I peeled the covers and stumbled out of bed.
It rang three more times before I could cross the distance between my room and the main door.
Classic Sarita didi. She liked to announce her arrival as loudly and impatiently as possible.
I rubbed my eyes and tugged on my oversized t-shirt as I opened the door to find her standing on the other side, hands on her hips.
‘What took you so long? You’ll get me late,’ she scolded, rushing past me and into the kitchen.
Sarita didi was always in a hurry. She worked in several houses in my bachelor-dominated building, so time was not a luxury she could afford. Everyone wanted their floors mopped and tiffins packed before they left for work, which meant she had to work at a supersonic speed to make it happen.
‘Can you make kadhi chawal today?’ I asked, following her into the kitchen. She looked at me like I had a screw loose somewhere.
‘What, you expect me to be here all day?’ She scoffed as she opened the refrigerator. ‘Besides, you don’t have any curd.’
It was my flatmate Nikita’s turn to buy the groceries, which basically meant that I would send her reminders all week, before giving up and stocking the fridge myself over the weekend.
Seeing the disappointed look on my face, didi promised to make kadhi chawal for me on Sunday.
For today, I’d have to make do with aloo parathas.
I was about to make my way back to my room when my flatmate walked out of hers, dressed in yoga pants and a bright pink tank top.
‘Oh, you’re up early,’ I said, cocking my head in surprise.
‘Nah babe, haven’t gone to sleep yet,’ she said, picking up a banana from the kitchen shelf. ‘Will crash after the gym.’
Nikita and I had been living together for the last six months, but we weren’t exactly friends.
It was hard to find common ground with her, considering we led such different lifestyles.
She was an actor and had moved to Mumbai to ‘struggle’, although she barely ever went for auditions.
Instead, she spent her weeknights binge-watching Netflix in the living room and her weekends partying in the same overcrowded bar in our neighbourhood.
She’d invited me out once or twice, but had soon realized that I was a) boring and b) fundamentally against paying ?2000 cover charges just to get hit on by douchebags and yell over bad EDM.
‘That makes more sense,’ I muttered, mostly to myself, then added, ‘can you pick up groceries on your way back, please?’
She gave me a thumbs up as she walked towards the door, her head buried in her phone.
I shook my head. She was 100 per cent going to forget again.
But I had more important things to stress about.
Like, what the hell I was going to say to Neil today.
The stakes were higher than ever, and I wasn’t about to let a little thing like the truth ruin my career.
Thankfully, I had a moment of panic-induced clarity while showering.
I then went on to devise a foolproof three-part plan.
Step 1, Dominate: Don’t wait for Neil to ask you questions. Walk in with your head held high and take charge of the conversation. How was his experience at NYU? Where did he like to hangout? Did he ever go to that karaoke bar down the street?
Step 2, Deflect: If Neil gets too close to the truth, don’t panic. Simply steer the conversation in a new direction: ‘Speaking of NYU … I just realized I haven’t had a decent bagel in ages. Do you know where I can get one in Mumbai?’
Step 3, Dramatize: In the unfortunate event that he shoots out an accusation, respond with absolute disbelief.
The key here is to sound so genuinely shocked, so completely outraged, that he’ll think twice about pushing further.
The more incredulous and offended you appear, the faster he’ll backtrack in embarrassment.
By the time I reached the office, I had convinced myself that the plan would work. It had to work. I mean, I couldn’t imagine the catastrophe of getting caught. The sheer humiliation. I’d get fired from my job, shunned by society and be reduced to a cautionary tale in corporate gossip circles.
Would my parents disown me? Probably. Would I have to change my name and start a new life in a remote Himalayan monastery? A distinct possibility. I wasn’t built for a nunnery—I could barely get through a day without Wi-Fi—but if it came down to that or facing the fallout, I’d have no choice.
No, Kavya. Focus.
None of that would happen because the plan was solid. Three simple steps. Dominate, deflect, dramatize. I just had to execute it all flawlessly. Easy enough.
I got fifteen minutes of peace before Neil strolled in, looking like he’d stepped straight out of a GQ fashion spread.
He wore a fitted navy button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms, paired with dark jeans and sneakers so white that they had to be fresh out of the box.
He carried two Starbucks cups, his laptop bag slung effortlessly over his shoulder.
He gave me a small smile as he crossed the empty office and reached our bay. ‘Morning, boss,’ he said, first setting one coffee cup and then his laptop bag on his desk.
A muscle in my jaw twitched. ‘Just Kavya, please,’ I said, looking up at him.
He shrugged and slid the cup of coffee towards me.
I looked at it in confusion. ‘Uh … thanks. But you didn’t have to.’
‘Just thought you might need it today,’ he said, nonchalantly.
I stared at the cup, my mind racing. What did he mean by that? Was he implying something? Does he know I’ve barely slept?
Before I could gather my thoughts, he cut through the silence. ‘I emailed you the resized images yesterday, by the way,’ he said, flipping open his laptop. ‘I was going to show them to you, but you’d already left by the time I came back from Varun’s cabin.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ I said, before adding, ‘I, uh, had to be somewhere.’
He nodded at me and then turned his attention to his laptop without another word.
I swallowed, my eyes darting towards him nervously, a knot forming in my stomach.
Was he behaving strangely or was I just overthinking?
For the next fifteen minutes, I waited for him to say something.
Surely, he’d want to continue our conversation from yesterday, right?
But as the silence stretched on and he showed zero interest in making small talk, I realized it was time to kick off phase one of my plan.
Why was I waiting for him to make a move when I was the one in charge here?
‘I never asked you, what did you study at NYU?’ I asked, glancing at him.
‘Advertising,’ he responded, not even bothering to look away from his screen.
I drummed my fingers on the side of my coffee cup, feigning interest. ‘What was it like? Did you enjoy it?’
He nodded absently, clicking through a few tabs on his screen. ‘Yeah, it was fine. Lot of work, though.’
I leaned in a little, trying to steer the conversation. ‘Yeah, I can imagine. I used to spend so much time at Bobst Library, trying to get ahead on the coursework.’ Mentally, I gave myself a little high five. I’d done my homework.
His eyes flicked up to mine for just a second, before he went right back to his screen. This was beginning to feel like a very one-sided conversation. Why was he not showing more interest? He had acted very differently yesterday.
As the minutes dragged on, I sat there, my mind spinning.
Why is he being so distant? Is it to do with me?
Or is it something else? The silence stretched, making me more and more jittery.
I mentally ran through a list of possible topics to break the ice, hoping one would get him talking, but none of them felt right.
Until my brain landed on the one question I knew I shouldn’t ask, but couldn’t stop myself from considering.
Maybe it was best if I just bit the bullet.
I shifted in my seat, trying to sound casual. ‘So … did you hear back from Kenzo?’
He looked at me again, his face devoid of any expression. ‘Yeah. He couldn’t really place you.’
I quickly swallowed the bile rising in my throat, forcing a bright smile. ‘Yeah, I guess I didn’t interact with too many of my peers,’ I said.
‘Mm-hmm,’ he said, pausing to take a sip of his coffee.
I let myself exhale. Okay, I think that went fine. I had sidestepped the question without a hitch. He had bought it. He had totally bought it. And I hadn’t even needed to initiate phase two or three of my plan.
I closed my eyes for a second, wrapping my hands around the warm coffee cup.
For now, this was under control. I wasn’t naive enough to think the subject would never come up again, but the next time he asked me questions about NYU, I’d be ready.
No more fumbling or panicked half-truths. I had done my research. I had answers.
And maybe, just maybe, I was overthinking this. Maybe he wasn’t all that interested in my past after all. Maybe he had just been making conversation, trying to find middle ground with his boss, and I was the one spiralling into paranoia. I needed to stop letting my fear get the best of me.
My jaw unclenched and I sank further back in my seat, finally able to focus on something other than not getting caught. I clicked open my email, skimming through a few messages before switching over to my calendar. A reminder popped up for a marketing meeting in ten minutes.
Perfect. Time to switch gears. Boss mode. I glanced over at Neil. ‘You want to join the marketing meeting in a bit? See how we do things around here?’
He turned to look at me. ‘Yeah, sure.’
‘The interns don’t usually attend, but I think it might be a good learning experience for you.’
His lips curved into a slow smile. ‘I’m here to learn. Wouldn’t want my peers to forget about me, you know?’
I felt a small prickling sensation at the back of my neck. Why had he phrased it like that? But I didn’t get a chance to dwell on it, because Varun appeared behind us, clapping Neil on his back.
‘Neil, buddy, come join us for today’s meeting,’ he said, flashing him a grin.
I followed them as they made their way towards the conference room, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of my mind.
I gripped the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection under the painfully bright fluorescent lights. A mild headache brewed around my temples as the day’s events played out in my head.
From the outside, everything had seemed normal.
Neil and I had barely interacted the entire day, except for when I had asked him to pull up a few design references for our upcoming monsoon sale campaign.
Even then, our exchange had been strictly professional.
There had been no attempt to talk about our so-called shared history.
But there had been other things that had given me pause. That comment about not wanting to be forgotten by his peers? That had felt like a taunt about the Kenzo situation. I wouldn’t have thought much of it had it been an isolated remark, but then in the morning meeting, he’d said something else.
The team had been discussing new strategies to position Jharokha as a leader in the home decor industry. Varun had given a long spiel about how luxury home decor brands thrive on perception, on making people buy into the story that the brand belonged at the top.
‘Like how some brands throw around words like “heritage” and “legacy” when they’ve been around for, what, five years?’ Tanya had scoffed, but Varun had nodded enthusiastically.
‘Exactly! We need to lean into that authority, highlight that we are the gold standard,’ he had said.
The conversation had gone on for a while, with Varun taking a special interest in Neil’s opinions on the matter.
I had been too sleep-deprived to fully engage, only half-listening, until Neil said, ‘Fake it till you make it, right?’
When I looked up from my diary, I’d found him looking right at me.
That wasn’t even the worst of it. A few hours after lunch, when I had returned to my desk from a coffee break, Neil wasn’t around. His chair was pushed back slightly, his laptop open, screen glowing. I hadn’t meant to look, but it was right there, staring me in the face.
His desktop wallpaper.
Not a picture, not some abstract pattern, but a quote.
‘Half a truth is often a great lie.’—Benjamin Franklin.
My breath dried up in my throat. For a second, I just stood there, the words burning into my brain. It could’ve been nothing. A random quote, a coincidence, something he’d stumbled upon and liked enough to set as his wallpaper.
But my gut said otherwise. It felt too pointed, too uncanny. Like a message meant for someone. Me.
Now, standing in the office washroom, I inhaled sharply through my nose. My hands trembled as I turned on the tap, letting the cold water run over my fingers before splashing some onto my face.
Maybe I was reading too much into this. It was possible that Neil simply loved motivational quotes.
And the rest of it? They’d just been random comments that had only acquired meaning because of their unfortunate timing.
That had to be it. Because what was the alternative?
That he’d figured out my secret and was gathering evidence against me?
Waiting for me to fess up? Or was he just … toying with me?
No. Stop. I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts swirling around like a storm.
My brain was being overly creative again.
No one in their right mind would do that.
If he knew, he would’ve confronted me. Or gone to HR.
Not put me through this ridiculous psychological warfare like a bloody sociopath.
I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, steadying myself. The day was almost over. All I had to do was keep my cool and let this be a problem for tomorrow. I straightened my back, gave my reflection one reassuring glance and made my way back to my desk.
Neil was packing up his belongings. His tall frame was bent over the desk as he neatly placed his laptop into its bag, his forearms flexing with each movement.
I forced myself to speak up. ‘Going home?’
He straightened up as he turned to address me. ‘Yeah, I’m done with my shift. Do you need anything else from me?’
I shook my head and stood there awkwardly, watching him pick up his bag and swing it over his shoulder. ‘Catch you tomorrow? I have a feeling it’ll be … an eventful day,’ he said and winked at me, before turning on his heel.
My jaw dropped open as I watched him walk away, his words still hanging in the air. An eventful day? Why? And what the hell was up with that wink? Wait … had that been a threat?
Heat rushed to my cheeks, anger flaring in my chest. Fuck this, I thought. I was done playing this infuriating guessing game.
Without another thought, I grabbed my stuff and stormed out, desperate to catch him before he slipped away.