Dil Beparwah | ✔

thirteen

||CHAPTER 13||
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┊A R V I K A┊

Nightfall, and I was in my cabin, eyes straining on the bright yellow of the highlighted lines of the document. Being the weekend, silence clouded the entire floor. Stifling a yawn, I crossed my legs, flipping to another page. With no one barging into my office every two minutes, I could finally work in peace. A week ago, during the last briefing with Mr. Oberoi's lawyers, I was offered a copy of the case details. Never had I ever felt so smug and surprised at the same time.

Both the embezzlement and it's cover up had been hasty, and spanning over years. This wasn't new in the Industry—all of us have been guilty, twisting rules and bending our backs. But getting this issue unveiled was only the side effect.

The shrill ringing of my desk phone, my hand reached out in practice. I peered up from the file in my hand, glancing at my secretary's desk outside my cabin as I pressed the receiver to my ear. A very familiar silhouette stood a few feet away from the door, rapping his index finger on her desk impatiently, looking at me with unimpressed, bored eyes.

"Send him in," I said quietly, sliding the matte black file into the drawer. "And you can leave. Ask my driver to drop you off."

Karan didn't wait for her approval. Pushing the glass door open, he strolled in, pulling out a chair to seat himself.

"Does she not know who I am?" His thumb pointed behind him. "And what the fùcķ, this looks suffocating." His face scrunched up disapprovingly when his eyes fell on my desk. Between Project DEEV's paperwork and Oberoi Industries case files, my table barely had any space left. "I had to leave work to watch you work instead?"

I couldn't let him know why I had asked Mia to buzz me each time someone came in, not right now anyway. "Stop acting like you didn't use it as an excuse to escape a brain derailing, eye roll-worthy meeting." His words, not mine.

Mumbling a whatever, he reached out for the decorative glass globe on the desk, a translucent heart swirled in the middle. It was a gift from Ritwik's bachelors. Apparently, he had it custom made for the six of us. His cheesy toast from that night always brought a smile. He was such a softie.

"Driver banane ke alawa kis liye bulaya hai tune?"

"Tujhe tere kaam se bachane.  We're going on a... mini-vacation."

Of course he didn't buy it at first. Rolling the glass globe in his palm, he yawned. It was nearly eleven and I was equally tired, and had a flight tomorrow. So I saved him the guessing game, yanked open another drawer and passed him the sumptuous invitation card.

After studying the invitation card to my mother's wedding anniversary for half a minute, he looked up, decoding my request. "You... want me to escort you to this party."

"Spot on." I knew I was crazy for even considering this, but the stakes were too high. Arriving with a date closed up proposals— mergers and otherwise, that could be flung my way. I didn't have time for either, and my father had subtly suggested inviting him along. Helping a friend get used to networking properly. Surprising, because neither one of us was the quintessential of generosity.

An appreciative tilt of his head indicated an incoming snide remark. "This is me doing you a favor."

I begged to differ, but supposing that his parting with Isla was mutual, consensual and not dramatic, him accompanying me to my mother's anniversary party wasn't that big of a deal. "If you're expecting me to thank you—"

"—you're practically forcing me to cheat on my girlfriend, so yeah?"

I squinted my eyes at him. "Really? So the squeaky female voice that answered your phone aaj subah jab I called is your morning voice?"