Mr. Heartless CEO

03. Past hauntings

I look into his face and contemplate what he'll do next for the apparent insubordination on my side.  He looks at me with both his hands neatly placed atop the table and interlinked with precision. 

I know for a fact that he is in his early 30s, maybe 33, if I am not wrong, because I was lazy and too scared to google him.  If I ask Arushi, she might know the exact details to the point and she will scarily know the precise hair gel he uses, she is scary like that. 

I will not lie and say that he reflects what blackness is inside him, cause he looks and smells like a dream.  If I had seen him somewhere other than the setting in which we first met, I am damn sure I would have drooled after him, but unfortunately that is not the case. 

That being said, I am not ashamed to admit that my eyes have wandered and my thoughts have drifted somewhere forbidden when I am near him. No one can blame me.  All my female colleagues agree wholeheartedly on that. But I never show it on the outside cause it’s all a surface-level crush that will go ‘poof’ once you talk to the guy. 

I stifle a sigh and look down at my fidgeting fingers atop my thighs. 

“I want to use that favour now.”  He says in a calm voice, which has me looking up at him sharply. 

5 months Before:

I smile at my phone as I wake up to my notification bar full of birthday wishes. 

I never thought I would smile at the thought that I am getting older, but let's just face it, we are all secretly glad that we don’t have to be in college anymore writing mind-crushing assignments and tests.  

I stay back in my bed and reply to almost all the birthday wishes and statuses uploaded on social media.  I look at my brother’s sweet picture collage he made of us and like the post.  I look at my sister’s story and grin at the snarky caption she posted with a picture of us being goofy using a Snapchat filter.  It took me 30 minutes to feel overwhelmed and finally to get out of bed. 

It's bad enough that I spend my birthday in bed, but I have to get my parents’ blessing soon.

True enough, both my parents are already dressed and near the pooja shelf ending their prayers.  I join them at the last minute and fall before their feet for blessings a minute later. 

“Ayushman bhava, beti.”  My dad touches my shoulder and helps me up while my mom inserts a few Rupee notes into my hands. I grin at them, then twirl around and show them my birthday salwar, which I am wearing. 

“Always a cutie.”  My mom gripes good-heartedly and ushers me to the table which is already filled with my favourite breakfast.

After 40 minutes, I am out of my house and riding my bike to the office with a grin on my face. I can’t wait for Raghul to see me in this white salwar, which is his favourite colour. 

I stop at a red light and tie the fluttering shawl around my hips. A blast of horn startles me and I look up to see the light turn green. 

“Such a rush,”  I grumble under my breath and start my bike. My bike had always been slow while picking up speed, so my bike accelerated hard for a couple of seconds before slowing down abruptly. It had never been a problem. 

But the asshole behind me didn't care about that. 

I feel a hard bump against my scooty from behind and I am flying sideways with the sudden movement without being able to balance myself and losing my momentum in an instant. 

My fear drones out my shout of distress as I land hard on my left shoulder and my bike falls just short of crushing me. My helmet lightly bounces off the road. I get blank for just a second before all the feelings and emotions rush back to me. 

My adrenaline is through the roof, as people around me rush to help me up. But all my focus is on the white Audi right next to my bike. Idling. 

“Thank you. I am good.”  I mutter to the people who check on me and the guy who picks up my bike from where it fell and helps it upright while releasing the stand. I mutter a final thanks to the guy and turn to my right where the car is still idling.

I stride up to the driver’s door of the car, remove my shawl from my hip, and twist it angrily in my palm.  I glare at the tinted window of the driver’s side, and after a few seconds, the back door opens, and a short guy with round nerd glasses gets out. He looked like he had just seen a murder and that I materialized as a ghost. 

“Sorry, Madam Ji.  The mistake is on our side. Give me your phone number, madam, and I will personally get your bike ready in good condition.”  His voice is meek and scared.  

“Where is your driver?  He should be the one responsible.  Ask him to come out.”  I told the guy and glared at the tinted window once again. 

He swallowed hard and looked like he was about to cry.  “Madam, no need for that. We will be honest and compensate whatever damages happened to you personally, and we will repair your bike.  Please just give me your contact information.”  He pleaded. 

I glanced at the vehicles on my right, which were moving in a steady stream; we were parked at the side, thankfully, but still, I was getting late, and this was unconventional. 

As my adrenaline started to get down, I could feel myself get tired and restless.  All the confrontational bone in my body melted away while looking at the guy before me. 

I was about to nod and give my phone number when the driver’s door opens and a man, a handsome man gets out.  It was my turn to swallow. 

He could not be the driver, not because of his marvellous appearance but because of his expensive suit and loafers. 

“What is to be the delay?”  His tone was haughty and dismissive, which grated on my nerves.  All my anger came back again at once.

“Seriously?!  You hit my bike and have no basic manners to get out and check on the situation.  You think I won’t sue you?”  I glared at the guy.  He at least had a foot on me, and I was not that easily intimidated, but this guy had an aura around him that made me feel like I was below his feet, which made me even more aggravated. 

The short guy piped up again.  “Madam, please, no need for that.  Please write your contact info in this note, I will call about the bike in a couple of hours.”  

I took the book he extended and wrote my phone number, name, and address so that the bike could be delivered there once it was ready.  Both the guys were talking with each other while I wrote the info.

“Please deliver the bike to this address,”  I said to the short guy while returning his notebook.  And he gave me his phone number to contact him.  Believing it is the right choice to leave my bike with a practical stranger, I get the piece of paper with his info.

I looked down at my watch, I was late.  And I didn't want to waste my money looking for an auto rickshaw and spending the cash on it.  You would never meet a minimalist like me.  

I glared as the guy slid into the driver’s side with practised ease without a single glance in my direction.  This man. So infuriating. 

Appalled, I looked at the window, and a thought suddenly occurred to me. The short guy was in the process of taking and relocating my bike, so it was not directly in front of the car.  I ran the short distance to my bike, took out my belongings from the front of the bike, jogged towards the car’s passenger side door, and opened the door, which was fortunately unlocked. 

I was shaking a little as I slid into the expensive-looking seat and strapped on the seat belt. 

“What are you doing?”  The guy in the driver’s seat asked.  His face looked calm but I could see a storm brewing inside with the look he gave me.  

“You just tried to kill me.  It is only the right thing to drop me off at my office.”  I glared back at him.