Chapter 16

Khushi sat at the table eating her breakfast, missing Anjali, who had to leave for work early in the morning. However, she was thankful for the absence of Arnav's formidable father who unnerved for some reason. Lavanya talked about her work at the hotel, lamenting to Arnav about how it was so difficult to work for Indian companies. Arnav seemed preoccupied with his phone as he answered her in monosyllables.

In the last few days Khushi had seen a side of Arnav that she had never seen before. He seemed as intimidating as the house she was residing in currently. Here in Delhi, Arnav was clean shaven and even though he had always had the air of broodiness about him, now he seemed hard and cold as he avoided her at every opportunity. Nevertheless, he looked as handsome as ever.

"How is your job search going Khushi?" Lavanya asked her, breaking into her thoughts.

"It is going well." Khushi answered evasively.

"I asked you because there is a job at the hotel I am working at right now," Lavanya said, "they need a receptionist."

"I don't think that I will be able to do that job," Khushi said politely.

"Why not?" Lavanya demanded, "it is a simple enough job – not rocket science. You just need to be confident. What you need to do is to change your way of dressing. Here in Delhi it matters how you present yourself."

Khushi noticed the sharp look that came into Arnav's eyes as he clenched his jaw.

"Those who work at the front desk are usually hotel management graduates Lavanya," Arnav pointed out, "Khushi is not qualified to work there."

"I am sure they will take her if she tried," Lavanya persisted, "I could talk to the management –"

"I don’t think you should," Arnav told her firmly, " If she is capable enough to come all the way to Delhi, I am sure she is capable enough to find her own job."

"Arnav, that is rude!" Lavanya admonished him playfully, "she needs a job. We should help her."

"I think Khushi can manage without our help," he told her, "You are getting late for work, aren’t you?"

Lavanya looked at her phone. "Oh God!" She stood up and ran out of the room.

Khushi excused herself and walked toward her room feeling desolate. The huge house with its opulent drapes and expensive furniture made her uncomfortable. It was probably because she felt she didn’t belong here. She missed Mrs. Rai and her ancestral house. She remembered Ratna's smiling face and of her lovely kids who had cried when she left. She felt at home there.

Arnav was making it clear that he really didn’t want her here. Had she made a mistake coming all the way to Delhi to convince him? It was possible that the moments they had shared was just a fleeting feeling and there was nothing more to it. In the next moment, Arnav came up behind her, and grabbing her hand he led her into the study room.

"What are you trying to do?" he demanded as he stepped closer.

"What did I do?" She asked him perplexed by his anger. She unconsciously took a step back.

"Why are you making yourself look so desperate that every Tom, Dick or Harry is offering you a job out of sympathy?"

"I didn’t ask them!" Khushi hit back.

"You don’t have to," he said, "one look at you and they are handing out those good for nothing jobs for which you are over qualified."

"Arnav I do need a job. My tenant in Bangalore is giving me some trouble --" She missed his beard, his casual shirts of which the top two were unbuttoned.

"Don’t you dare look at me like that!"  

As Arnav turned to leave Khushi called out to him. "Arnav, how long are you going to avoid me?" she asked him, "you have to let me explain my side of the story."

"Alright," he said suddenly, "tell me what you have to say." He walked up to the chair and sat down.

"Right now?" she asked him nervously.

"Why not?" he asked her, "do you need some kind of rehearsal?"

Khushi realized that Arnav was not going to make it easy for her. She tried to gather her thoughts.

"When I first found the paper clip it was only then I realized that there was more Payal's death than what was told to me by my parents. I met her friends in the hope that they might shed some light on what had happened.

"But when I meet Deepana I really didn’t pursue anything as I heard about all the good times they had with each other. I desperately needed a job and when Rishabh offered me one I accepted it. I had no inkling that he was going to propose to me. He took me completely by surprise.

"Then Rishabh and the others suddenly told me about you –"

"You came to Udupi to investigate." His face was grim mask.

"No!" She denied vehemently, "I wanted to get away from everyone rather than to find anything really. I just wanted to be in the place where she had spent her days in happiness."

"And you conveniently landed up at my aunt's house." His tone was laced with sarcasm.

"It was a complete coincidence!" She exclaimed, "You have to believe me."

"Alright fine! But why did you hide your identity from me?"

"I was scared," she admitted honestly, "I didn’t know what to tell you. Instead, I decided to leave. Then y0u left for Delhi and aunty asked me stay and I didn’t have the heart to refuse. I – I thought it would be alright – I just didn’t think about it much."

"It didn’t seem that way – you spoke to the right people."

"Honestly, none of that was planned," she said desperately, "After I spoke to Ramya and Rakesh I realized that Payal's friends had not told me everything. I contacted the journalist to ask him why he wrote such things about Payal. He told me that the newspaper printed an apology. He told me that Rakesh was the one who filed the FIR and told me to talk to the police officer for more details.

"I spoke to the police officer more to find out the truth rather than to investigate you."

"Arnav just stared at her without saying a word.

She walked close to him. "Please Arnav -- you have to believe me!" She placed a hand on his cheek.

"Alright --" he said, "but I am not sure why you are trying so hard to convince me? What are you trying to achieve here?"

Khushi was speechless at the blatant question.

"I thought – you know -- " she stuttered.

"Are you expecting me to take responsibility for what happened at the beach house?"

"Of course not!" Khushi denied vehemently. It was the last thing on her mind as she was well aware that she was equally responsible for what happened between them and she would never use that to her advantage. But he was talking as though it had meant nothing at all and that hurt her. "It's not about that night -- I thought we were friends –"

"That was before I knew you were lying to me!"

Khushi decided to challenge that. "Would it have made a difference if I had told you who I was?"

"Yes!" Arnav exclaimed, "I would have fired you from the college and hired a new cook for my aunt."

As Khushi stood there silently he continued. "None of this would have happened if you had only told me the truth at the beginning. We would have gone our separate ways and lived peaceful lives.

"For instance, you might have been able to make up your mind about Rishabh and led a very comfortable married life with him." Arnav said his eyes cold and dark.

Khushi looked at him, her eyes full of pain. After a few moments, she raised her chin and said, "Then I am glad I didn’t tell you the truth."

"Arnav baba!" HP's voice rang out, "Your phone is ringing."

He walked to the door and then turned to look at her with his piercing eyes. "If I give you money, will you leave Delhi?"

"No!" she said vehemently, "I need a job – not money."

"Those are brave words Khushi Gupta," he said clearly, "But I hope you don’t regret coming here." He opened the door of the study room and walked out.

Later that night, Khushi walked in the never-ending hallway toward her room. She quickened her steps when she heard a sound behind her. It seemed to be taking forever to reach her room for some reason. Her heart was pounding like a runaway train. Suddenly she woke up in her bed drenched in sweat. It was the same old nightmare about Payal again.

She went up to the window and looked outside into the darkness. She guessed it was because of the stress. She would have to find a job soon, or else it would be difficult for her to continue to stay in Delhi. She couldn’t impose on Anjali for long.

 But then, she wouldn't really have to stay long in Delhi if she failed to convince Arnav, an inner voice nagged.

The bigger worry was Lavanya Kashyap with her perfect family, a perfect job and her perfect hair. There was no way she could compete with her. Oh God! What the hell was she trying to do? Why was life so complicated at every turn? The answer was quite simple. She was responsible for it. When she had set out for Udupi, it was her choice and now she had come to Delhi of her volition. There was no one to blame except her own restlessness. But the difference was that she hadn’t really known what she wanted earlier. Now she did.

A few days later when Arnav walked into the office pantry, he saw Khushi making coffee.

"What the ---?"

Khushi turned around and was equally taken aback. "What are you doing here?" she blurted out.

"This is my office," he said, "what are you doing here?"

"I have come here to work – for Shyamji."

Arnav stared at her his eyes going cold with anger. He walked out of the pantry and entered Shyam's cabin.

Shyam shared some of the office space for this law practice.

"Did you offer Khushi a job?" he demanded.

"Yes." He said tersely, "is that a problem?"

"What?" Arnav exclaimed, "in what capacity?"

"She will be involved in campaign management."

"She doesn’t have the experience."

"That's why she is here," Shyam said, "she will receive training by mentors."

"This job is not suitable for her."

"How do you know she is not suitable?" he retorted, "She will never know unless she tries, right?"

"I don’t think ---"

"Take it easy my dear brother-in-law," Shyam drawled, "I can understand that you were her employer and feel responsible for her but now she is mine –my employee. I will give her the same care that you gave her. Don’t worry."

Khushi saw Arnav walking back to his cabin and shut the door with a resounding noise. She knocked on Shyam's door and walked in.

"I am not sure if I will be able to do this Shyamji."

"Don’t be intimidated by Arnav," Shyam said, "you will definitely be able to do this."

"But –"

"You will never be able to do anything in your life if you get intimidated Khushi," Shyam said, "if you keep saying no to opportunities there will be a day when you might not have any. What are you going to do then?"

"You may find someone better than me." She persisted.

"I rejected a candidate just this morning so that you could get this job." Shyam said sharply.

"I am sorry –"

"Why don’t we try this for a month?" he suggested, "if you don’t like it – you are free to quit."

"Okay." She agreed reluctantly.

A month later, Khushi wasn’t sure what she was doing exactly. The first week of training had been very interesting where she learnt how campaigning strategies had changed from screaming into loudspeakers, TV and radio channels, to more personalized social media platforms. Some of the male trainees had been assigned to go to smaller towns on field work as voters in those areas did not follow social media. She and a few other girls were asked to post on twitter and Instagram on a daily basis. From the last week Shyam had begun taking her to meetings with high profile people. Khushi realized she wasn’t cut out for the job. This evening she had accompanied Shyam to a party. After the party, she would let him know that she had no intention of continuing with the job.

"Nice to see you again Ms. Khushi," Mr. Desai came up to her.

"Nice to see you too Mr. Desai." Khushi said genuinely smiling at him.

Mr. Desai wore kurta-pyjama which was the attire of almost all the politicians present. He was a very attractive man in his mid-forties and she had noticed other women admiring him, but what she admired the most about the Oxford educated man was the vast knowledge he had about almost everything on earth and it was pleasure to listen to him. She knew he was married to a gorgeous and famous personality in the business circles, Sagarika Parmar, and their wedding a few years ago had garnered a lot of media attention.

"You have excellent taste in clothes," he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Thank you."

Half an hour later, Khushi retreated to a quiet corner of the room, looking into her phone as she thought of a way to escape this boring party. Khushi thought of the compliment she had received about her dress. She wore a maroon midi dress, that had a closer collar neck and full sleeves with a sash around the waist.  It had small wooden buttons all down the front. She had found this dress in a flea market in Sarojini Nagar. When the office assistant had told her to dress in western clothes she had felt a little odd at first but then she had surmised that it was probably the general culture in Delhi and that people were expected to dress in more modern fashion. It was not that she wasn’t aware of western fashion but her wardrobe consisted of long ethnic skirts, cotton tops and jeans. While that was perfectly suitable in Bangalore, here, that would be considered a tad bohemian and that would be a stark contrast to Lavanya's sophisticated clothes. But how much ever she tried she wouldn’t measure up to her, she thought to herself.

She wondered what Arnav was up to. He had been traveling a lot in the last month and she had hardly seen him. During the times that he was in town, he had been spending his time with Lavanya. It wasn’t just the job she wasn’t cut out for, it was also the life here. Maybe it was time for her to make a decision about leaving Delhi.

"Khushi," Mr. Desai came up to her, "I need a favour."

Khushi stood up from her chair. "Sure Mr. Desai."

"I need to work on my speech for a meeting tomorrow," he said, "but I can’t seem to find my reading glasses. "If you don't mind, will you help me?"

Khushi looked at her phone. "I was just about to leave --"

"Oh, it is alright then, you go ahead" he said, "I am sure you have a boy-friend waiting for you. I can understand." He looked distressed as he raked a hand through his hair. "I have called my secretary to come over but she is stuck somewhere and I really need to get this done. I will try to find my glasses somehow."

Khushi was racked with guilt. "Wait!" A girl from Delhi wouldn’t hesitate unlike her. "Do you have the speech on your phone?"

"Unfortunately, I am not tech savvy like you youngsters," he said sheepishly, "I have it on my laptop up in my room."

Khushi thought it wasn’t the time to be conservative. She was supposed to be a journalist for God's sake! Where was the grit? "Sure, I will help. But I have to leave in half an hour."

"That's all the time I need," He smiled at her, "I will go up first. It is room number 602."

A little later Khushi stood at the door of the room no 602 wondering if she should knock on it when the door opened.

"What took you so long?" Mr. Desai asked her, "it's been fifteen minutes already."

"I got a phone call -- Mr. Desai, it seems like it might be difficult for me to help you –" she said in a rush.

Mr. Desai's face fell. "Oh, Khushi I was counting on you. I even ordered almond milk for you."

Khushi was once again racked with guilt. "I am sorry –" Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching her and she turned around to see Arnav walking down the corridor.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him surprised.

Arnav walked up to them and introduced himself. "My name is Arnav Singh Raizada," he said, "glad to meet you Mr. Desai," he extended his hand.

The older man shook Arnav's hand. "Are you related to Arunoday Singh Raizada from AR Industries?" he asked curiously.

"I am his son."

"I see." He looked at him quizzically and then turned to look at Khushi.

"I came here to take Khushi back home," he said, "you see she was supposed to be back home a while ago and it's pretty late." Khushi noticed that Arnav hadn’t bothered explaining that she was guest at their house.

Mr. Desai smiled. "I did tell Khushi to carry on if she had a pressing engagement but she insisted."

"That's Khushi for you," Arnav said, "Always helpful. If you still need help with the speech, I will be glad to wait," Arnav offered graciously.

"Oh, that will not be necessary," he said, "I am sure my secretary is on her way."

"That's good!" Arnav smiled back. He then took Khushi's hand in his and smiled at her. "Shall we leave? " He dragged her away toward the elevators.

He didn’t let go of her hand until they had reached the parking lot.

"What the f@#$ were you thinking Khushi?" he demanded angrily, "have you lost all senses?"

"What did I do?" Khushi asked even though she knew what he was referring to.

"Just get into the car," he rasped as he walked to the driver's side.

As the car made its way through the late-night traffic Khushi said, "Why did you come? I told you I was going to leave." After Mr. Desai had gone up to his room, Arnav had called her. She had told Arnav that she had to help Mr. Desai and he had immediately asked her to leave.

"I knew you will not listen to me and I was right," he grated out, "luckily Lavanya and I were at a nearby restaurant. When she mentioned to me that she saw you at this party, chatting up Desai, I called you right away."

"I don’t understand why you had to ruin your date with Lavanya over this," Khushi said before she could stop herself, "I was perfectly fine."

"Just shut up!" he bit out.

Arnav remained silent unwilling to talk the rest of the way.

As Arnav walked into his room, Khushi decided to follow him. "Can you please tell me what is going on?"

Arnav turned on the light switch which illuminated the room in a dim golden light. The room was large with a queen-sized bed, flanked by nightstands. There were two chairs and a coffee table near the French doors that led to the balcony. Across the bed was a large TV on stand. All the furniture was made of dark colored wood. Her room was similar but smaller and sans the TV.

"Desai is a philanderer." He said blandly.

"What?" Khushi was stunned, "But he is happily married."

"Happily married – my foot! Being married doesn’t mean a thing to some people!" Arnav said, "I am a product of that."

Khushi's heart went out to Arnav. "I don’t think Mr. Desai is like that. I have spoken to him a few times and he comes across a decent man. He is twenty years my senior."

"Age difference doesn’t matter here and you know that!" he said with chilling clarity, "I have friends who are politicians here and it is common knowledge about Desai's habits. The trick is he doesn’t force anyone -- he doesn't have to. Most girls who come in contact with him know what they are getting into. They are not averse to it."

"But I wasn’t –"

"He doesn’t know that, does he?" he asked her, "just think about it Khushi. Which married man asks a young girl to come to the room to help with a speech?" He turned away from her and walked toward the wash room.

Khushi realized that Arnav was right. At the party, he had begun to talk about his personal life, anecdotes from his various travels across the globe. He had even told her how much their thoughts matched in spite of an age difference.

"And what's with this dress?"

"What's wrong with this dress?" she demanded. At least Mr. Desai had complimented her unlike this man,"it is close collared and full sleeves!"

"Forget it!" She had no idea about her own allure Arnav thought. "He asked you to come in later so that it would look like you went there voluntarily. I can't believe you could be so immature to go up there."

"I was planning leave!" Khushi was angry at herself. "Who asked you come and rescue me?"

Arnav walked back shirtless. He looked like he had lost some weight but his muscles looked still rippled with strength. It was distracting.

"When were you planning to leave?" He asked her, "after drinking your spiked drink?" his tone was laced with sarcasm, "And this is not the first time!" He reminded her much to her chagrin.

"Mr. Desai is not like Srijit!" Khushi shot back.

"Yes, that's true." He walked toward her. "He is worse. At least Srijit was obvious – which, by the way, you didn’t notice."

"Anyway, you said he wouldn’t have forced me –" she was grasping at straws.

"You are so bloody naïve," he stepped closer, "you are a guest in the Raizada house. If something had happened to you -- it would have been a scandal – I can't even begin to talk about the repercussions --" He fell silent looking into her eyes.

Khushi gave in. "I am sorry." She whispered, "I shouldn’t have gone up to his room like that."

Arnav pulled into his arms sending an electric jolt right through her body as she came in contact with his bare skin. "You shouldn’t have agreed to work for Shyam." He whispered.

"I desperately needed a job," Khushi stood quivering enveloped in his strong arms, "I told you."

"You will have to quit!" He commanded.

She pushed at his chest. "And then what am I going to do?" Even though Khushi had already decided to leave her job, she was miffed at his highhandedness.

Her held her arms in a crushing grip. "On Monday, come to the office and tell Shyam you will be working for me."

"What?" Khushi's eyes went wide with shock. "How can I just tell him that?" she asked, "I can quit but I can't tell him about working for you."

"If you can't do it then I will." His face was just inches away from hers.

Heat consumed her body. "But –"

"Do you want to work for Shyam or for me?" His eyes moved down to her lips. "This red lipstick doesn't suit you one bit." He murmured.

"You." Her heart felt like it was going to explode.

The next moment he let her go. "It's settled then." He walked back to the closet leaving her standing there wondering what had happened.

Khushi walked back to her room feeling cold, dazed and bewildered. Despite his reasons for doing it, Arnav had come running to rescue her when he thought she was in danger. Arnav's behaviour today gave her hope. But she was also confused.

I hope you don’t regret coming here…

A month ago, he had asked her to leave and now he had hired her to work for him.

What was going on in his mind?