Poles Apart

Chapter Fourteen

I stand beside the chair Karthik is sitting on, both of us hunch over the desktop, going through the presentation, one last time before the meeting.

Karthik looks at the screen, his eyebrows furrowed, as he stares at it in concentration. I've looked at it enough to be able to recite the slides line for line, but that shouldn't make me over-confident, so here I am, going over the presentation with my brother one more time, looking for any inputs he might provide.

"This is good," he says, leaning back into his chair. I straighten up and hold myself from reaching my back to ease the ache from hunching over for the past half hour. I prepare to take a deep breath, but my moment of peace is interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in," Karthik calls. I straighten my shirt that's tucked into my formal pants and stand beside Karthik's chair.

Karthik's PA pops her head in. "Sir, Mr Rao is here, can I send him in?" she asks. Her eyes briefly skim over me, and she acknowledges me with a nod and a polite smile.

Karthik turns to look at me as if asking if I want to stay or not. I shake my head, raising my hands in surrender. "You can do the socialising, I have a meeting to prepare for."

He rolls his eyes at me. "Go on then," he says and stands up. "You can't skip the socialising part forever," he warns.

I shrug. "It'll be good enough if I can skip for now."

I start to walk out, when Karthik calls from behind me, "Really though, Arvi, people think you've eloped or something. The forgotten heiress." He says the last part dramatically, resulting in me rolling my eyes.

"I should be happy you aren't the one writing the articles, then," I tell him before stepping out of his office. "The forgotten heiress," I mumble to myself with a scoff.

There have been recent articles about the elder daughter of the Ravichander family, speculations along the lines of where she had been hidden away to why she had been hidden away. Gossip, gossip, gossip. Privacy, people. Privacy is why I chose to hide.

But who can blame people who are simply doing their job? Me. I can.

Karthik's cabin is a few feet away from mine, and as I walk towards my cabin, I see Karthik's PA leading a pot-bellied man, that I vaguely recognise from the party before Karthik's wedding, towards Karthik's room. Oh. Mr Rao.

When they pass by me, I fold my hands in a Namaste and pass him a polite smile. He mirrors my actions in response.

"All prepared for the meeting today?" he asks.

I keep my smile on my face, "Yes, sir."

He nods with a smile, not the heart-warming kind, or the warm kind, the let's-see-what-you-can-do kind. "Let us see the Oxford graduate in action." His tone seems challenging to me. Assessment, a test: to see what I'm made of. Honestly, I'm not made of much. Just some flesh and bones.

The corner of my lips turns up in a smirk, I let my expression speak for itself as I extend my hand for a parting handshake. I shake the man's hand firmly before I walk away.

I walk into my cabin and grab a disposable plastic water bottle before slumping down in my chair. The conversation with Mr Rao only strengthened my determination to bag this deal. This has to happen.

Two hours later, I take my seat at the table after finishing with the presentation. Sahir Khan and Luis Pranché both seem interested in the deal. Mr Rao looks impassive, without emotion.

"We are definitely interested in Zēlos Steels, we'll cut to chase with the negotiation. What are the terms?" Luis Pranché asks.

I smile. Cutting to the chase is exactly what I want. It's the only way I know. "We want to invest in the merger between the Khans and Pranché as equity shareholders. And of course, voting rights." Power.