Unwanted Arrangement

1.

Ishika Ahuja

"I don't need a husband, ma."

I walked away barely glancing at my mom and the ribbed brown paper cover on the table, which, I can bet my entire art collection on has a handful of eligible candidates for the said position.

Mom sighed, knowing this would be my reaction. She probably was asked to try anyway by my uncle.

I inserted my car keys into the hole with a little more force than necessary and got into the driving seat , banging the door closed. Taking a deep breath, I wondered why I even bothered resisting when it's inevitable. I didn't even have a boyfriend, which would certainly disappoint the scandal seekers in my relatives.

Sometimes I wish I had a choice. One person's dreams come true at the death of another's. In my case, it's the death of my dream in the scheme of greater things. A collateral damage, truthfully.

I lost that hope. Yet find myself dreaming of the what - ifs in some weaker moments. And today is one of them.

I've had better days. The stress of running Ahuja Inc. is getting to me.

I shift the 2nd gear and drive off, shaking out of my thoughts. I need to do something with what I have rather than mourn what I could have had. Most people would kill to have the option to be the CEO of Ahuja Inc. as a 2nd Option.

Just as I was taking a turn, a black benz slammed into my car before I could even register it speeding towards me.

"Hey!" I yelled as I came out of my Audi A3 Cabriolet to check the damage. I fume as I spot a broken headlight and a dent beside it.

"You fucking asshole" I seethed striding towards the idiot who had the audacity to damage my car in my family property. I knocked on the glass window (more like banged but we don't need you to know how violent I am).

"Now, now, do we need to be this violent so early?" A guy got out of the shotgun taking off his aviators.

I stepped towards him - Arms crossed,chin raised and slammed his door shut with my middle finger. He raised an eyebrow at that, looking thoroughly amused.

His eyes shone with amusement and entitlement. His black shirt's top button is undone and his hair is tousled like he just got out of bed. I snorted subtly. or it could be because he stumbled into bed with someone.

"Hallway,actually." He states buttoning the undone buttons.

"I didn't say anything,dude."

"You don't have to. I could see the judgment dripping from your eyes. Everyone knows about my reputation."

"I don't even know you." I stared at him blankly, trying to recognise if he was a celebrity. But let's be honest. People nowadays claim they are well known and famous because they feel like they are and not because they actually are.

His mouth fell open slightly,"No. You are kidding. There is no way you don't know me." He rolled up his sleeves in agitation, looking seriously offended.

I wasn't aware it was that serious. Now I am a bit hesitant. Is this guy actually famous? I study his dark black eyes and his structured face with sharp cheekbones and a clean pretty boy face.

He is Handsome, but I doubted he is an actor cause I would have recognised him immediately with my bollywood obsession (let me be honest, movie obsession in general.)

Ugh. I don't have time for this game of "Guess who?"

I ignored him and walked towards the driving seat and tapped the window, careful not to break my choodi. I love them very much to waste on anyone, least of all an insufferable reckless driver.