Dil Beparwah | ✔

eleven

||CHAPTER 11||
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┊A R V I K A┊

When Ishita had called me for an impromptu meet up, I had not considered the possibility of bumping into Varun Malhotra. It shouldn't have been surprising though, because Mehra Industries had announced a sudden press-conference earlier that day, and I had assumed that that was the reason why Ishita probably wanted to talk.

We never got around doing that though.

Before she could confess what really had been bothering her, Varun Malhotra had revealed our acquaintance, albeit a wrong one. Blue Tech. A Software Solution company. Did he presume that we weren't aware of all shades of solutions by now?

Varun had left in a hurry, and he had someone with him all along, someone I hadn't noticed until they had to leave. Not that Ishita and I spoke about anything that would lead to trouble, but the entire situation was rather... untidy? There was a chance that Varun was listening in on our conversation– you could never tell with these cocky journalists– but a part of me wanted to believe he wouldn't do it.

Hence, throughout the day, I kept refreshing BizNest's site–even now while my uncle reproached his son for playing a mobile game at the dining table.

"Mikhael," Vinay Foofa spoke in a stern voice, "Phone. Idhar."

Mikhael grumbled, not cooperating. We were accustomed to his mood swings, though it was quite a sensitive issue in the Verma and Deewan household. "Last round hai ye, warna mai haar–"

Jolly Bua had snatched his phone before he could even explain to us the importance of the game he was playing. "Ab yaa to tum apna khana finish karke homework complete karne jaoge, yaa fir is mobile ko tootthe huye dekhoge."

Normal conversation restored around the table, my father and Vinay Foofa talking about politics and food because work conversations were prohibited during family dinners. On rare evenings such as tonight, Jolly Bua arranged family dinners. They were hosted at the Verma residence every time–and none of us complained because her Malai Koftas were to die for. Networking and gourmet food were her specialties, which explained how well she managed our hotel chain.

But tonight, Jolly Bua was antsy. Her eyes kept flitting towards their flat's entrance, towards her phone and towards my father. Or maybe it was just me being on edge, refreshing BizNest Blog just to make sure Varun had kept his mouth shut and hadn't leaked any details of Bandhan. That move was a ticking time bomb, and the wait was even worse.

"But Didi keeps checking her phone," Mikhael was ready with his protest. "Aap unhe kuchh nahi bol rahi!"

I squinted my eyes at him. He was growing up to be such a snitch, always threatening to spill my secrets either to my father or his mother. That was definitely the Arnav in him. "I'm not playing some stupid game." Just a dangerous one which involved private contracts and sneaky journalists.

A sly grin spread across his face. "So you're working, haan."

I wasn't, but admitting that Bandhan's details might get leaked while Jolly Bua looked me in the eye was not something I was ready to do. Glaring at Mikhael, I shoved a spoonful of Kofta into my mouth. He had the audacity to make a bragging face at me.

"Waise, Maanyata aur Raman ki anniversary party agle hafthe hai na?" My father had a mischievous glint in his eyes when he spoke to me, and lately it had been reserved for anything that involved his arch-nemesis and my stepfather. He knew very well when the aforementioned party was— in a peculiar turn of events, Mr. Oberoi had to send him an invite only to be refuted. My father knew he was in trouble, and he knew that that screamed opportunities.