Chapter Seven - Skies Of Lust

Khushi watched with an expression of interest, as Arnav’s shirt was meticulously removed. Her eyes traced the sinewy biceps, the scars on his back. They followed his hair, spiky and wet. She noticed how his broad shoulders narrowed down into lean waist, right down to the muscular legs. She noticed his shoulders, tensed for the attack.

 

She leaned forward with interest.

 

The fight began, basic and brutal. Very brutal. She noticed how quickly Arnav dodged the punches, his even more quick counter attacks. She noticed Arnav Singh Raizada was good.

 

Khushi curled her index finger at the attendant, and whispered something in his ears. He bowed quickly, before proceeding to complete the task given to him.

 

The first real shock came when a fist sliced through the air, and landed squarely on Arnav’s jaw. The crowd groaned. Khushi watched, expressionless.

 

The counter attack was brutal. Arnav’s punch connected squarely with his opponent’s firm stomach. A knee flew upward to the opponent’s groin, and the said opponent - bloody and beaten, sank down to the floor, accepting defeat.

 

Amidst a crowd cheering happily, celebrating his win, Arnav picked up the handkerchief, walked to Khushi’s seat, bent down on one knee, and smiled, his palm open. The handkerchief, with its little smudge of mud, asked Khushi to pick it up.

 

Khushi lazily smirked, stood up and picked up the handkerchief, with a smile. She walked out, her firm derriere swaying slightly. She slowed her pace slightly as she neared the dustbin. She raised her right arm slightly, aware that a pair of caramel-brown orbs were watching her.

 

She threw the handkerchief into the dustbin, and walked out of the doors.

 

Arnav smiled slightly to himself. The challenge had been accepted.

 

* * *

 

Lavanya walked through the doors, with Anjali in tow. There had been another meeting with Devyani. The last meeting still bought tears to Lavanya’s eyes.

 

The meeting had started with Devyani sitting on a chair, and all the girls sitting around Devyani, in a circle. Anjali, Lavanya had noticed, was looking at the proceedings blankly. Lavanya had quietly sit down at the back, as the meeting was commenced. Devyani had called Nirmala into the centre of the circle. Nirmala had joined in with Lavanya... a fresh vibrant girl - who had done her first job today. Nirmala stood in the centre of the circle, looking uncertainly at the girls. Lavanya noticed that all of the older girls, had adopted similar expressions of blankness. Like the night, expressionless and unknowing.

 

Two minutes later, Lavanya had found out why.

 

“So Nirmala” Devyani said, with a grandmotherly smile that did not reach her eyes. “Today was your first job, yes?”

 

“Yes, Devyani”

 

“Where did he touch you?”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Where did he touch you, first?”

 

Nirmala’s breath hitched slightly, as the conversation took a more menacing flavour. “Uhh... my...”

 

“Your breasts?”

 

“Yes”

 

“Did he squeeze them?”

 

“Yes”

 

“How?”

 

“I... I can’t...”

 

“Don’t worry if you can’t tell me. You can show me”

 

And so, Nirmala proceeded to strip down naked, to show how she had been touched. All for money.

 

The little stream of memory abruptly ended as somebody nudged her, sharply. She winced slightly, and looked up, straight into Devyani’s eyes. “Lavanya, will you come to the centre dear?” she asked, her tone clearly implying that she had no actual choice.

 

The meeting had commenced.

 

_____________________________________________________

 Sorry guys, I'm totally winging this. Hope its not as bad as I fear.

 

You can also comment on the IF Thread - http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=3389861

Chapter Six - Chivalry

Dedicated to four people -

masam (My partner in badass :P ), vgedin (twiggy) ..SankiMedhz.. (medhz) and my wife jessicad (jess)

You four know why, and I love you. :)

Also - This story has not been plagiarised in any form. All of the story is one-hundred percent mine. In case I have taken something from other books, the lines/scene has been marked and due credit to the respective writers/creators has been given. People who have read my previous work, already know that.

If you still have doubts, kindly PM/scrap me. Alternatively, as Angel-Jot pointed out, post your complaint in the complaint thread, and I promise to respond to your problem as soon as possible. I do not take kindly to public mud-slinging/popping up from nowhere and accusing people unnecessarily - especially when your accusations are absolutely false.

Sorry for ranting. Thank you for listening, and hope you like this chapter.

Chapter 6

Shashi let his tired head rest upon the walls of the hospital. It had been a taxing night, mentally, emotionally and physically. He was not as young as before, things like running around and pacing tired him. Akash had been a real brick, getting him coffee and managing all the work. Akash was a good man, a little training and experience, and he may just be the right man for the UK Deal. Finally, at around four, Akash was sent off to office, to manage the project reports and meetings from there. There was the video conference with the Russian delegates, Akash was needed there. There was still life in him. He could handle this.

The doctors walked out of the hospital room where his daughter lay, bandaged and... beautiful. She always managed to do that - look beautiful in the most absurd of situations. You could find her in the middle of the jungle, with tendrils of leaf sticking out of her hair, and she would still look beautiful. Like a nymph of the woods.

The doctors walked upto him, and Shashi felt himself stand up. He fought off the tiredness, rolling onto him in waves. "She's awake now" they said, letting a benign smile flash on their faces. "And she's waiting for you" they added, as Shashi nodded, unable to speak - so overwhelming the gratitude was.

"Thank you" he managed to say. They seemed inappropriate, those words. The two words could never convey his gratitude to the doctors for saving his daughter - his life. They nodded tiredly and walked away, and Shashi walked inside the room, where his daughter lay.

She had dark circles under her eyes. The first thing he noticed about her, his daughter. The pale face accentuated the circles, made them more pronounced. He noticed the needles poking into her pale skin, and he stopped himself from wincing.

"Hey pa" she said finally, tired of his silent assessment. "I thought I lost you, back then" came back his tired reply. Shashi reached for the chair, as his daughter looked back at him. "You are never gonna lose me, dad. I'll be there for you, sticking to you like those goddamn wrinkles you keep talking about. You can try and botox me away, but I'll be there. I promise" Shashi felt tears form in his eyes at his daughter's simple announcement. It were times like these when he saw glimpses of his girl... the girl who would sit up all night, making he pa birthday cards. The happier Khushi.

Khushi settles comfortably on the pillows. She and her father talked of pancakes, how she'd make them anyway, of business, of the weather, of parties, of the moonlight walks. Anybody eavesdropping the conversation would have thought he was listening to a father-daughter duo catching up over coffee.

"Where's the woman, by the way?" Khushi asked, after they were done laughing at the doctor's stuck out teeth. "What woman?"Shashi asked, apparently confused. "The woman who saved me, pa" came Khushi's reply, her tone injected with surprise at her father's lack of knowledge.

"What are you talking about, Khushi?"

"Dad, there was a woman... I had an accident because of her..."

"Khushi, there was no woman, when I came. I... maybe you should rest a little, go on, be a doll. Ring the bell. The sooner the doctor thinks you're fine, the sooner he'll let you go. Go on"

Khushi felt her eyebrow raise slightly. There had been a woman, Khushi was sure. Yet her father would never lie to her. And Khushi knew she was not hallucinating. Then why...

She absentmindedly pressed the bell, her eyes focussed on the doors her father had walked out of. The nurse quickly walked in and injected the medicine. Khushi's last thought, before letting sleep close over her, was about the mysterious woman and her equally mysterious disappearance.

Three Days Later...

Khushi was officially out of the hospital. There had been no serious damage, just a superficial cut on her stomach and head. She had quickly rejoined office and was slowly pushing herself forward from the abyss of the accident. The mysterious woman was still in a corner of her mind, not occupying her completely, and yet not letting her go. The media was speculating about her accidents and the injuries. The press had not been given any specific details. They did not even know Khushi was out. The entire mess had been orchestrated by her PR team. This would provide excellent coverage for their new business ventures.

Khushi was out to meet an old friend. The meeting could not be put off, the friend and Khushi herself had hectic schedules. Meeting was impossible these days. Skype could only take you so far.

The car stopped in front of the old cafe, her friend had arranged for them to meet. The food, he had promised, would be excellent. Khushi did not mind the ancient cafe, with it broken down walls and miss-matched furniture. It was the place Khushi Gupta would never be in, and hence, her release from the hospital would still be a secret.

She stepped into the cafe, walking towards the table in the corner. The cafe, she noticed - despite its obviously mouldy appearance, was popular among the locals. It was early in the morning, and three tables, out of five, were already occupied.

"May I take your order, ma'am?" A mellifluent voice asked her, and she looked up, to decline. She felt a jolt of shock race through her, when she saw the owner of the voice. It was the same woman who had saved her.

"You saved me, that night" Khushi said, in her excitement ignoring the sudden look of fear on the woman's face. The woman looked around, trying to control her expressions and failing. "Don't worry" came Khushi's soothing reply. "I'm not here to tick you off. I just wanted to thank you for not leaving me there. Thank you"

The woman looked down, embarrassed. "I... it was my duty, I guess."

"Yeah, whatever. What is your name?"

"I... Anamika"

"Well, Anamika. I owe you. Whatever help you need, call on me. I'll be happy to help. Okay? And while we're at orders, get me some coffee"

The woman nodded softly and walked away. Khushi turned her attention back to the door, waiting for him. Khushi quickly pushed away the feeling of something wrong to the back of her mind. She knew from the past that her gut was never wrong, yet decided not to push it.

Inside the kitchen, Payal collapsed against the slab, the coffee sitting on the pot. She refused to give in right now to the mire of emotions. How apt the name, she had given herself, seemed to Payal. For it was now a truth of her life. For Khushi, she would always be Anamika - the one without a name.

Ten minutes later ' as Khushi sat marvelling the coffee, the friend made an appearance and slide into the chair. After they called for coffee and breakfast, they talked. Once upon a time, Shyam Manohar Jha and Khushi Gupta had been great friends ' still were. Latitudes, longitudes and time schedules had not kept the friends apart from talking over skype or phone. Khushi had few friends in life, and whoever she had, she valued.

Shyam Manohar Jha was a writer. And a bloody good one at that. Having seven published works to his credit, he was now asked by publishing houses to write. Critics named him as the most versatile of them all, switching from melancholy to humour in the blink of an eye. He was now a household name ' his books bringing tears of joy or sorrow to the readers' eyes, with their simple language, raw emotions and beautiful characters. Khushi was the only friend he cared to have. His was a strange life. Everybody wanted to know him, and he wanted to know nobody.

"How is the book coming along?" she asked him, when he showed no signs of talking.

"I hate it right now. It sucks. Maya is not shaping up the way I want her to shape up"

"You should make her work out, you know. Shaped me up pretty good"

"Really Khushi? Is that the best you can do without breakfast?"

"I apologise"

"I'm still a virgin Khushi. That's depressing" he said, after a few minutes of silence, and the sound of food being chewed.

"I still find it hard to believe that the guy who wrote those sex scenes is a virgin. Whats your secret? po*n? Voyeurism?"

"I went to Devyani's woman yesterday. I chickened out"

"You, my friend, were born a virgin and will die a virgin"

"You're a bitch"

"Nice to know you missed me"

"Always"

The meeting, over food and coffee lasted for over two hours. They finally waved good-bye, with a promise to never skype each other again (knowing that they would) and went there separate ways. Khushi cast a last look at the cafe, before the car rolled away, Anamika already forgotten. The said Anamika however, heaved a sigh of relief and went back to her customers. Payal was saved, for now.

Afternoon arrived quickly. It was time for Khushi's official appearance in the public. She was to attend a charity street-fight event hosted by the Khurana's. Dressed in a pair of sheer palazzo pants and a white sleeveless top tucked in them, she looked dressed to kill. The PR team repeatedly sent her messages as to what to answer to what questions.

She stepped outside the car. The glare of the camera's blinded her momentarily. She smiled and answered a few questions for the paparazzi and walked inside. The interiors were cool and dank. A square ring dominated the centre of the area. All the spectators would be seated around the ring.

She found herself a seat quickly. The aim of the charity would be simple. There would be ten chosen bidders and ten fighters. Each bidder would place bets on the fighter. The amount of money collected in the end of the competition would be sent of for charity.
The rules of the fight were quickly announced. There was only two rules - Fight till you survive and anybody entering the ring would have to fight his way out.

The matches quickly commenced. Khushi was not paying attention to the fight or the hullabaloo. She felt bored. Fighting like animals bored her. She knew how to fight. She knew how to fight better than those animals. She looked behind her, to realise, with another jolt of surprise, that Arnav Singh Raizada was sitting behind her.

There was an old lady sitting beside her, suddenly complained of a headache by sitting on the front. Arnav quickly offered his seat to her, and proceeded to sit beside Khushi.

"Nice of you to offer the lady your seat" she said, her voice bordering on bored and sleepy.

"Always the chivalrous bas***d" he replied, a lazy grin settling on his face.

"Chivalrous, are we?"

"Oh yes, very"

Khushi smiled to herself. She reached for her handkerchief in her clutch and took it out delicately. She, aware of Arnav's eyes on her, then flung it ahead, straight into the ring.

"Oh Mr. Raizada" she said in her sweetest voice. "Would you be so kind as to fetch my handkerchief?"

She felt her face rearrange itself into a smirk, sure of Arnav's incapability to retrieve her handkerchief. She looked into her phone, busily typing the email, until she heard the crowd roar louder. She looked up to see who had won, only to realise the crowd was cheering on the new arrival

Arnav Singh Raizada has stepped into the ring.

Chapter 5 - The Gilded Cage

Devyani Kumar was decidedly ugly, even by normal standards. When she had been a young woman, she had watched and waited for one of the boys at the mohalla to come tease her... just so she could have a story to tell, like her friends. She would dress up prettily, day in and day out. She would apply all creams, lotions, chandan, besan... all in an effort to beautify herself.

Years later, the instinct of rejection washed over her, instinctive and strong. It would come when these beautiful women would ask for the next job. It would come when she would be reminded of the failed alliances. To remind her of the fact that she still was a virgin. She was not beautiful enough.

That she was not worth it.

Years later, now at the helm of a successful business, the commissioner himself a great patron, the sting had still not gone. She was rich and she was the crme de la crme of the underbelly of this city, in demand everywhere.

Devyani called in Anjali, and told her the commissioner wanted something new. Something that would excite him to no end. Anjali told her if she could take one of the new girls along with her. Devyani asked her to take Lavanya.

She watched, with a sudden and vicious stab of pleasure, as Anjali walked out of the room, Lavanya in tow. It mattered not, how ugly she was. She still was the mistress of these dogs, these rabid puppies.

* * *

Lavanya shivered, as fresh tears leaked out of her eyes. What had happened an hour ago, she could not fathom. She had been aware what she was getting into, it was all for her Abbu's operation, but the sense of disgust never left her.

The commissioner's face loomed in front of her eyes. The fresh tears leaked out of her eyes, the memory refused to leave her face. The feel o his rough fingers on her. The sobs grew louder, and were abruptly stifled, for somebody was at the door.

The door swung open with abrupt force, and Anjali stepped inside the room. She looked with pity at the young girl wiping her tears and looking up expectantly. Anjali felt the sudden urge to tell the girl how her first time had been. But Anjali stifled the rush of warmth inside her. Where she was, there were no friends. No sisters. No love.

"Stop your crying and come downstairs. Devyani has called for a meeting"

The door shut with a loud bang. Lavanya wiped her eyes, and walked out of the room.

* * *

It was one in the night when Akash's phone rang with the omnipotence of a bad news. He reached for his phone, his annoyance changing to surprise and then foreboding as he saw it was Shashi who had called.

"Sir?"

"Akash. Khushi's had an accident. She's in the hospital. Nothing serious, she'll be fine in a day. I won't be coming to office tomorrow - which means you're in charge. I need you to check the Wadawasi deal papers again"

"On it sir"

"And handle the media. Get in touch with Nikita right away"

"Right sir"

"Good..."

"Sir?"

"Yes Akash?"

"What about who caused the accident? Should I..."

"No need"

"But sir..."

"I said, stay out of it"

"Right sir. Goodnight"

Akash kept the phone down, his heart beat suddenly racing at the thought of Khushi in the hospital. He shuffled out of the bed, and reached for a pair of pants. There was lot of work to be done.

* * *

Anjali walked out of the room, the other girls streaming in after her. There was one last job to be done, before she could finally be done for the day. She stepped into the room, before raising her eyebrow at the man... boy in front of her. He did not look a day over twenty four, probably here to lose his virginity.

The man turned around, clearly scared. She however, had no time for theatrics of concern and care. She wanted to go home. She quickly stepped out of her clothes and waited expectantly for the man to open his. He did not.

"My name is Shyam... Shyam Jha" he said, finally. She waited for him to elaborate. Maybe he was one of those who needed foreplay. So she stood up and began to play with his buttons. Only to have him pry her hands away, and stepping back in anxiety.

"If you don't mind, can we... talk?"

She stared incredulously at the man, before bursting into a peal of laughter. "Come back!" She shouted, as the man made to walk out of the doors. He however, ran out, at her shout.

Anjali collapsed on the bed, weak with laughter. She would remember this Shyam Jha.

Chapter Four - Unexpected

Mr. Wadawasi wondered where Mr. Sinha was. Must be screwing around one of Devyani's women, though the grey haired host, with a slow shake of his head. He decided to let the matter go. His secretary's frantic looks showed him more pressing matters were on his hand.

The venerable Mr. Wadawasi was not far from wrong. Indeed, his assumption was absolutely correct. Mr. Sinha was being pleasured by three of Devyani's women, in a suite in the Taj - as Mr. Wadawasi turned to ask his secretary what the matter was.

The three women who had been chosen by Devyani to serve her oldest and richest client were exceptionally beautiful. There was Nameera, the new girl Devyani had entwined in her foul circle. Then there was Rosie, who was one of Devyani's most experienced women. And then there was Anjali. Devyani's prized possession, her top class girl. Strictly reserved for the quality clients, or new ones.

Anjali had come into town eight years ago, with nothing but thousand rupees in her pocket and extraordinarily beautiful looks. Having been unceremoniously thrown out of her house for having the ambition of being a model, she had come, with fierce pride, to prove her father wrong.

It was in this period of hurt that Devyani had found her, alone in a new city - trying to find a place to stay. To Anjali, Devyani was a god send, an answer to all her prayers. Having brought her home after soothing carresses and sympathetic nods, Devyani had proceeded to give her a glass of warm milk, and some hot food.

Anjali had woken up three days later, so strong had been the pill, in a new bed and no clothes. She had glanced down, her vision hazy and disoriented. The first thing she had noticed, when her vision had cleared was her blood, caked in between her thighs.

Eight years had been a long time, and now Anjali had no ambition to become a model. If these eight years had taught her one thing, it was that dreams were just another extension of hope. Something that would keep you alive, only so you could look at your face in the mirror, and spit at it.

* * *

Khushi suppressed a little smirk, as Akash slid into her car with an annoyed look at the car, at the nervous valet and at the world in general. After having extricated a promise to locate Akash's stolen car from Mr. Wadawasi, she had offered a ride back home, which he had accepted, after half a minute of... frowning.

The road, glowing an orange yellow under the fierce glare of the street lights, was dotted by a number of pedestrians and cars. Not enjoying the silence, Khushi switched on the radio, and smiled as the strains of the melody strummed out of the speaker.

Chand si mehbooba ho meri, kab aaisa maine socha tha
Haan tum bilkool waisi ho, jaisa maine socha tha
Chand si mehbooba ho meri, kab aaisa maine socha tha
Haan tum bilkool waisi ho, jaisa maine socha tha

 

Khushi closed her eyes as the song bought back happy memories. To Akash, she seemed just like moonlit beauty of the song.

* * *

There it stood, his pride and one of life's greatest joys, his Ferrari. The venerable Ferrari spider - sleek, black and powerful. A bit like himself, Arnav often said, with a laugh on his face. He was not wrong. He was after all... bastard Arnav Raizada.
 
The black colour reminded him of the colour of her dress. Black, silky and sensually erotic. The way it had carressed her curves, flaring out. Just enough to tease every man in that room. She had stayed true to the name she had given herself, and had stolen every man’s heart. Khushi Klepto Gupta. He rolled the name on the tip of his tongue. Not a very bad name, he thought.

Arnav sped away into the dark night, his thoughts solely foccused on Khushi Klepto Gupta and her swinging derriere.

 

* * *

 

The solid brown door was quietly opened by the stoic butler, as Khushi skipped in, unusually happy. There was no particular reason for the sudden euphoria, it was just there. She was welcomed home by with a goblet of wine in her father's hand and a benign smile. She carelessly handed her diamond clutch to the butler and faced her father with a smile.

 

"How bad was it?"

 

She chuckled lightly at that, her father knew her too well. "Boring. But I think I just earned us a higher profit scale"

 

"Atta girl"

 

After ten minutes of light banter, which included Khushi promising to make pancakes for him the next morning, her father strode off into the bedroom, to sleep. Khushi went to her room too, after staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace for a few minutes.

There was an odd restlessness in her. She threw open her window, and marvelled at the beauty of serenity the night air offered. Such a night, she thought, would be wasted away sleeping.

 

In accord to her decision, she grabbed her jeans and an old top. Reaching for her chappals, she stepped in front of the mirror to comb her hair into a high ponytail. After achieving the satisfactory result, she walked out of the house, telling the butler that she'd walk in through the kitchen entrance.

 

The beauty of the night could not be fully appreciated from the window, Khushi thought, while ambling aimlessly. This was a rare moment, a moment the paparazzi would have loved to capture. Where the lovely Ms. Gupta was out at night, only not inside a club.

Lost in her musings about what exactly the headlines would say if somebody found her out like this, Khushi never realised when she had ambled into the middle of the road. A sudden white light blinded her momentarily, and Khushi felt her heart race in fear as a rusty, second hand Maruti 800 approached her with breakneck speed. So scared was she, that she could not even feel the impact of the collision.

 

Khushi felt a sharp pain in her head, as she fell down. She felt the blood gush through her head. She could not feel her legs properly. There was a hollow ring in her ear. She fought the blackness off, refusing to find solace in the comfort it provided. Funny, she thought, in an attempt to keep her eyes open. Wasn't this when her life should flash before her eyes?

 

The last thing Khushi saw, before letting the black press around her comfortingly, was the face a pretty woman, asking her not to die.

A/N: hey guys, thanks for the patience and the wishes. Have my last exam tomorrow, but I still updated!

 

And this is dedicated to MsIPKKNDManic. She’s honestly a brick.

Chapter Three - The Bastard and The Klepto

 

A/N: There seems to be a misunderstanding. Akash is not discontent with his life. He was merely in a bad mood that particular day.

 

Chapter Three

 

If night had been a woman, today she would have made every man hit the cold shower, thought an unusually reflective Khushi. She was right - For it was a beautiful night. The stars seemed to twinkle with unusual vigour; the air... warm and summery felt fresh, the moon seemed a little less intimidating. It was a sultry night, seductive in her own sweet way.

 

The yellow orange Lamborghini cut its way through the light traffic with surreal ease. The tinted window was rolled down, letting the lovers of cars and the lovers of beauty ogle shamelessly. Khushi could hear the little girl in the auto tell her father how beautiful the didi in the orange car was. She could also hear the car-loving pedestrian mumble about her car’s many virtues in a voice a devotee usually reserved for God.

 

Dressed in a stunning black gown and her hair in a sophisticated chignon, Khushi looked a like a worthy rival to the beautiful night. Her sharp, hazel green eyes shone brightly and her face, in the moonlight, looked beautiful. Normally, Khushi’s beauty made the prettiest of women look ugly, today its radiance beautified everybody it fell on. Khushi smiled affectionately at her right leg peeking out of the daring side split, right down to her red ice pick heels. Traffic was light, the night was young and Khushi felt, and rightly so, beautiful. Oh yes, somebody was very happy.

 

Ten minutes later, she parked sharply outside the venue, and put her right leg, with its ice pick red heel, out.

 

It was this vision of perfection which greeted Akash as waited for a fashionably late Khushi to make an appearance. A beautiful sports car halting smoothly, and a fair, healthy leg stepping out of it. The first thing Akash noticed how shapely that leg was. Beautifully toned, like the legs of a dancer. The second thing he noticed was a small scar on the thigh. An ordinary man would not have noticed it, but Akash, famous for his ability to read deal papers upside down, zeroed in on the slight beige line marring the otherwise smooth leg. A stickler for details, our Akash was. You had to be one when you were Shashi Gupta’s right hand man.

 

The body which followed the rest of the leg was equally beautiful. Akash felt something squirm in him, like a hot prickly sensation envelope him when Khushi stepped out of the car. The first thing he noticed was her firm and ample cleavage, cleverly playing peek-a-boo underneath the halter. His eye slid down from her cleavage to her tiny waist, right down to the bold leg, in its red shoes standing out. Out of all the letter bombs, with the dominatrix syndrome in them, Khushi had to be the most beautiful one.

 

“If you’re done wondering if I’m the same girl who was caught driving drunk with vomit stains on her dress... may we proceed?”

 

Akash felt himself flush. He was lucky it wasn’t too light outside. Nevertheless, he offered his arm to Khushi and felt oddly happy when he felt her light arm place on his. They linked hands and walked towards the doorman, who studied their invite and let them in quietly. Suddenly, as they stepped inside, Akash felt this strange whim, which alternated between kissing her senseless, dancing with her and giving her a slap. He began to wonder if Khushi was a witch.  

 

* * *

 

It had been two hours since Akash and she had stepped in. She had promptly disentangled himself, and had left off to strike a conversation with a few business associates, instructing with soft nod, for Akash to do the same. The party had been what a business party usually is- Women pretending to enjoy the wine, when they clearly could not differentiate between Pepsi and Coke, men alternating between business talk and eyeing for the next potential mistress. Khushi was, if truth was to be told, bored out of her mind. She had done the needful. She had complimented the women generously. Just a silent bargain between their husbands and her. It was a simple deal. She shower love on their wives, they shower their love on the deals.

 

She delicately raised the silver goblet to her red lips. 1884, the waiter had boasted, before plying her with the wine. She looked around, searching for Akash. Just another hour, and they’d go.

 

“Ah, Ms. Gupta?”

 

She whirled around then, surprised to hear a young masculine voice in this party. She had not known there would be anyone here except her and Akash, who was the other way, deeply absorbed in conversation with the Mehra twins.

 

“Mr. Raizada? What are you doing here?”

 

“Me?” he replied with a smile. “I’m here to find out a way to ruin the Gupta Empire”

 

She smiled at the cleverly veiled challenge.

 

“Good luck with that Mr. Raizada. I’d love to see how you get rid of your... obstacles”

 

“I’m sure I can figure out a way”

 

“I wager you won’t”

 

The score, being tallied in both their heads, now read 2 all.

 

Arnav stepped next to her then, aware of the gossip the single step had stirred up. He stuck out in the sea of old, spotty men. A manly six feet tall with broad shoulders, his nut brown complexion glittering under the chandelier, he stood there- the tall, dark and handsome next to Khushi, waiting for her to initiate conversation.

 

“I heard about your father’s new girlfriend, Mr. Raizada. Congratulations. This would be your... fourth potential step mother?

 

“Oh no, Ms. Gupta. It would actually be the fourth woman walking into my room naked, begging me to have sex with her. Yes, I’m the bastard who steals his father’s women”

 

Akash approached them then, saying it was time to go home. Khushi smiled at him, and asked him to go ahead. Then she turned around to Arnav and smirked.

 

“And I’m the klepto who steals her father’s man”

 

Khushi swayed away then, aware that Arnav’s eyes were on her swinging derriere. Arnav raked a hand through his hair, and picked up some smoked salmon from the blushing waitress, who had approached him with a hopeful look in her eyes. He smiled and showed his appreciation to Mr. Wadawasi, who seeked him out to ask if he was enjoying the party.

 

The final score read four all.

Chapter Two - All that glitters...

Payal looked around her little cafe with a deep sense of satisfaction. It had not been a good day; in fact, Govindan had sent his men in twice, asking for the money. The customers had been unusually cranky and she had spilt coffee on herself.

 

It was not a beautiful cafe, the one Payal had. The occasional white plastic chairs were an odd contrast to the polished black furniture. The black furniture had been a gift from Mrs. Sharma, after she had gone weary of them. The missing black furniture had been given to Govindan, who had liked the look of the shiny straight backed metal chair. In its place stood the odd white plastic chair, salvaged from the lane behind, where people dumped old furniture. The walls were yellow and mouldy, for Payal did not have the resources to give it a touch of paint. No kind patron had paint to spare, so that was the way they would stay, unless God did exist and all her debts would pay themselves naturally. The cafe was a mess of food stains and muddy shoes, the after-effects of another busy day. The saving grace of Payal’s little cafe was the food, and her secret ingredient.

 

Her secret ingredient was a joke she shared with her regular patrons. The ones who could see beyond the almost-in-ruins cafe, to enjoy the food. Just a pinch of my secret ingredient, Mr. Das! 

 

Yes times were tough. They were bound to be if you haven’t studied beyond twelfth, and did not have the educational qualifications companies were looking for. Times were indeed tough. But; Payal thought, reaching for a bucket of water and the mop, atleast she was happy.

 

* * *

 

Akash was not a happy man. It had nothing to do with his job or his bosses. His wages were wonderful, his boss was kind, the clients had not been too demanding today and Tracy had finally understood how to make his coffee. But he was not happy. It was just the day. Gotten off from the wrong side of the bed, nothing seemed to please Akash today. It was in this cranky mood that Akash walked into his boss’s room. His life had been a dream sailing. Born to rich parents, educated at Harvard, good looking and very intelligent; Akash was what every mother wanted her daughter married to. Oh yes, dream sailing indeed.

 

Akash knocked, and was welcomed in jovially. He walked inside and for the first time, felt a little better. Shashi Gupta, the ferocious master of the entire Gupta Industries, was no more than a second father to Akash. Wise, always ready with advice on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes, Shashi Gupta had made his empire from the very scratch. They had set well immediately, Akash’s incorrigibly truthful tongue and Shashi’s incorrigibly truth-loving ears. Between them, there were no pretences. Just two men who were friends.

 

“Akash” said the old man, not looking up from his laptop, “I need you to go to the Shah’s party tonight. We’re about to merge the deal, now will be a nice time to butter them up. The part is couples only, you will need a partner. Take Khushi with you, she needs to be there representing me”

 

Akash personally had never liked Khushi Gupta. The woman had been born with a bottle of beer in her hand, and music in here ears. When she was not out partying, she was inside the board-rooms, bankrupting MNC’s and proving her worth as the next big thing in the business world. He respected her for her natural talent, cut-throat deal making ability and sharp mind, but he disliked her for her vanity and hey-man ways. Unlike her father, who would talk straight to you on the face, Khushi Gupta was a letter-bomb waiting to be opened. Nobody would know when she decided to burst upon you, until she actually did. And when she did burst upon you, you would either die trying or would try dying.

 

“That deal, Akash, is gold” said Shashi, cutting into Akash’s thoughts.

 

“All that glitters is not gold, Sir”

 

“Akash my boy” said Shashi, suddenly smiling a little too kindly “All that glitters is gold. You just need to find out which one is the real thing, and which one is just gold plated”

 

A classic example of the wisdom Shashi spouted. Akash nodded softly, and walked out of the cabin.