Chapter 26

Khushi walked out of her front door, trying very hard not to step on the coral dress flowing down to her feet. If it was up to her, she would never have chosen such an elegant outfit for the night. It required much more attention than she could afford. But alas, she didn't have a choice.

 

After being harrased by an excited Lavanya on skype, there really was no way around it. So, she gritted her teeth and let Jaya excitedly curl her hair and set her make-up. When they were done, Khushi could barely recognize herself in the mirror. Whether it was the way she stood, or the way she stared at her reflection, something was very different. The only word that came to her was ethereal.  

 

By the time Khushi arrived at her driveway, however, all worries of her dress vanished without a trace. Leaning on a sleek black BMW, Arnav looked nothing less than Adonis himself, in a black tuxedo, gelled hair and a clean-shaven face. For a second, Khushi couldn't remember how to breathe.

 

"You look beautiful," Arnav murmured suddenly, staring spellbound at her.

 

A smile spread across her face, the sting from their conversation on the phone earlier that evening lessening into nothingness. She felt elated to see him react, to see him care. It meant she wasn't just another pesky little intern for him.

 

"Thank you," she replied.  "I'm assuming I passed the look test?"

 

He gave her an incredulous look. "You aced it."

 

Khushi grinned.  No matter what happened in the past, no matter how much she reminded herself of control before stepping out of the house, there was nothing in the world that kept her from his charm. And just like that, they settled back into their usual banter without any awkwardness at all.

 

The ride to the party was surprisingly short. When Khushi stepped out of the SUV, suddenly excited for the event, she couldn't help but be taken back by the venue. It was a magnificent mansion, decked up in countless fairy lights, all glowing underneath the night sky. Really, the rich and elite had too much money to spare. 

 

"I told you this was a prestigious party," Arnav unexpectedly whispered in her ear. 

 

Khushi gulped, feeling goosebumps run down her arm. What was with him and proximity? Did he not realize just how distracting his presence could be?

 

Arnav stepped back and handed his car keys to a valet nearby, before saying, "Shall we?"

 

She nodded. And to her great surprise, he wrapped his arm around the back of her waist in response.

 

"I hope your brother hasn't given you a curfew tonight," he said, gently leading her up a short set of stairs to the main entrance. "There are many people I need you to meet."

 

"That sounds worrisome," she said, regaining her voice. "Are you planning to set me up with someone tonight?"

 

"If I did indeed want to set you up with someone, then why would I bring you here instead of a nice, candle-light dinner somewhere?"

 

She snorted. "Oh please... we both know you just pretend to flirt with me. You don't really mean it."

 

He looked at her. "Are you sure about that?"

 

Khushi didn't know what to say. Despite usually being able to differentiate between his serious and funny side, at that moment she had no idea if he meant what he said, or was simply, pulling her leg.

 

Luckily, they had reached the front doors by then, where a small group of photographers with blinding cameras, swarmed them.  After a relentless phootshoot of sorts, during which Arnav's arm around her somehow fell away, they entered the main hall.

 

"So, who exactly am I supposed to meet and impress tonight?" Khushi asked, looking around the humugous room, which was artistically decorated with drapes, lights and flowers, all pearl coloured.

 

A booming voice called their attention. "Mr. Raizada! What a pleasure to see you here!"

 

Khushi turned to see an aging man walk towards them, adorning one of the warmest smiles she had ever seen. He sorely reminded her of her grandfather. 

 

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Arora," Arnav replied, shaking his hand.

 

"I was wondering if I would see you here. After all, Rajeev is very particular with his guest list."

 

"That he is. But fortunately, Mr. Prakash and I have crossed the barriers of being rivals for quite some time now."

 

 

"Yes, I heard about the deal you struck with him. It's quite impressive! And congratulations on that new land by the way. I'm sure it took a lot to convince the Maliks to sell their property."

 

Arnav smiled. "But definitely worth it in the end."

 

"Well that's what's going around in the news. At this rate, AR Designs will become the number one company in the city."

 

"I most certainly hope so! But truthfully speaking, I can't take credit for all of the glory. Khushi here was the one who suggested the deal in the first place."

 

Mr. Arora turned to look at her, as if he had just figured out the answer to a very deep puzzle. "Oh ho! Is that what made the most eligble bachelor of Delhi finally commit to a relationship?"

 

Khushi gaped, not being able to comprehed what was just so casually said.

 

"No, no, Mr. Arora," Arnav answered, with a chuckle. "Forgive me for not introducing you both first. Khushi, this is Mr. Arora, one of our oldest partners and a very dear friend, and Mr. Arora, this is Khushi Kumari Gupta, our promising new intern."

 

Khushi let out a silent sigh of relief. After finally finding her feet in the mess of emotions she recklessly made yesterday, she didn't want to fall into a new trap, the trap of being Arnav Singh Raizada's girlfriend. It was much too complicated.

 

"I'm so sorry!" Mr. Arora apologized to her. "For some odd reason, I thought such a beauty can only be Arnav's girlfriend. But, anyway, it's nice meeting you Ms. Gupta."

 

"Thank you and it's definitely a pleasure to meet you too," Khushi said with a small smile. "On a side note, I think it's safe to say that when the most eligible bachelor of the city finally settles down, it won't be for an ordinary girl."

 

Mr. Arora grinned. "I second that! So tell me, how is it working at AR Designs? Does Arnav live up to his reputation?"

 

"I'm afraid he does live up it amazingly well," she said humorously. "He is ruthless on all of us."

 

"I object," Arnav interrupted, with mock anger. "Perhaps, we should discuss the terms of your contract again Miss Gupta?"

 

Khushi glanced at him, ready with a witty retort, when her eyes fell on a tall man with golden-framed glasses, standing a few feet from them. She froze in horror.

 

Shashi Joshi had not changed a bit from the last time they met, exactly two months ago, on her birthday.  

 

"Khushi? What happened?" Arnav called, confused at her sudden pause.

 

She looked to him, pale. "Nothing," she lied, clearing her throat. "Um, excuse me Mr. Arora, I think I just saw an old friend."

 

And without waiting for a reply, she walked off aimlessly into the crowd, trying to put as much distance as possible from the man who ruined them all without even blinking an eye.

 

The truth was, she couldn't face him. It was too much to handle after all that he put them through .  And in the corner of her mind, Khushi knew it was the right thing to do, especially in place like this, where one wrong move landed you out the social circle and into the daily news, not for days, but for years. Her own mother was proof it. 

 

So, she ran. Only, there was no where to go.

 

Amidst the posh gathering of the party, Khushi felt completely out of place. There wasn't a single face she recognized, a single person she could approach, except of course Arnav, who had also vanished from sight. Heaving a sigh, she went to the only solace left in her life.

 

"Vodka on the rocks please," she told the bartender, arriving at the extreme corner of the lavish hall, where drinks were being served.

 

The bartender gave her a skeptical look, no doubt wondering if she would be able to handle the alcohol. If only he knew her.

 

"Now would be nice," Khushi said, glaring at the man, who quickly averted his eyes and began making the drink in silence.

 

A foreign voice floated her way. "Don't forget to add a fresh squeeze of lemon Rakesh. Our guest here has a thing for taste."

 

Khushi closed her eyes in annoyance, recognizing the voice in an instant. It seemed that her evening was only going to get worse. "What are you doing here?!"

 

Gaurav Prakash, her classmate and long-time harasser, smirked. "Just the reaction I was expecting. Nice to meet you too Khushi."

 

She gritted her teeth, the memories of their last encounter grudgingly filling up her mind. They had met in a darkened nightclub, where he stealthily spiked her drink. Fortunately, Arnav had arrived in the nick of time and saved her.

 

"Cheers," Gaurav said, when the bartender placed the glass of vodka in front of her.

 

Khushi didn't move. If she wasn't so torn up seeing her father at the party, she would have definitely been angry enough to slap him. But she knew that was out of question, for it would grab much more attention than what she was allowed.

 

"Go on then," he pressed. "Bottom's up!"

 

"I know what you did that night Gaurav," she told him sternly. "And I sure as hell haven't forgiven you for it. So do yourself a favor and get lost."

 

"Has anyone ever told you that insulting the host is bad manners?"

 

"Host? But-" Khushi's eyes widened in realization. "This is your house?"

 

"Why the surprise? Oh right, you came here without an invitation. Of course you wouldn't know the host."

 

"I'm not as cheap as you! I came here with someone."

 

"Oh really? So who is it now?"

 

A line appeared on her forehead. "Excuse me?"

 

"It's the good old drama, right? You show your attitude, some rich guy falls for you and then when you get your fill of the money, you dump them. Just like what you did with Akash."

 

"What?!" she asked, both confused and appalled at his words. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

 

He crossed his arms. "Everyone is talking about it... how Akash just disappeared from college and you don't say a thing about him. It's obvious that you got bored and moved on."

 

She shook her head. "That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard! What me and Akash have is none of your business."

 

"Oh, stop pretending already... I know all about you and people like you. But honestly, you should have told me this earlier. I have a lot more money than Akash. After all, I'm going to take over my father's business some day, instead of ending up on the streets as a homeless painter."

 

Khushi glared at him, her patience dissipating into thin air. Boyfriend or not, she couldn't tolerate anyone insulting Akash. "You made a slight mistake Gaurav, it's not Akash who is going to end up on the streets, it's as*holes like you. Because what Akash has is called talent. He doesn't need to live off his family and neither does he need to buy his girlfriends. So instead of demeaning him to boost up your worthless ego, grow up and accept it that he is a million times better than you."

 

Giving him a disgusted look, she turned hotly on her heels and began to walk away, when-

 

"I don't need to find excuses to insult Akash! He did it himself by dating a sl*t like you, whose family is nothing but a bunch of gold-diggers!"

 

She whipped around.

 

Pleased to see her reaction, he continued, "Yeah, I know all about you and your scandalous family."

 

Fear began to thread through Khushi as she looked into Gaurav's sneering face. How much did he know about her? And more importantly, what did he plan to do about it?

 

"W-what scandal?" she said, putting as much confidence into her voice as she could muster. Come what may, she couldn't let me him near the truth.

 

"The scandal of why you don't have a father. "Gupta" is your mother's name right? Not your dad's."

 

She paled. "How-"

 

"Being in an affluent family has its perks. But obviously you know nothing about that. So does your mom at least know who your Dad is? Or is she clueless about it too?"

 

"SHUT-UP!" Khushi roared, all her restraints falling off. She didn't care that her thundering voice silenced everyone in the hall. "You don't know anything about me or my family!"

 

"Really?" he replied, mockingly. "Then tell me - who is your dad? And where is he? Why do you live with your brother?"

 

Khushi felt all eyes in the room turn to her, both prying and patronizing. She was right in the middle of what she desperately wanted to avoid. Really, how cruel can the gods be on her?

 

"Ashamed to accept the truth?" Gaurav said, taking advantage of her silence.

 

"It's none of your business who my father is-"

 

"That's because you don't have one! And I think everyone here knows what we call that."

 

Khushi said nothing, having no retort, no cutting reply to defend her position. She looked around the room, seeing all the foreign faces stare at her in what she assumed was disgrace. And right in front of her, behind the leering figure of Gaurav, stood Shashi Joshi, cold and stoned-faced.  He hadn't even flinched upon seeing state.

 

Her hands curled into fists. She knew her father wasn't going step in, she knew he was just going to stand there and watch show, because that's what he did best - abandoning you when you needed him the most. And yet, for some reason, it her hit hard to see it played out in front of her.

 

She was humiliated beyond words.

 

"So," rumbled Gaurav's voice. "The next time you tell me how worthless I am, don't forget that I am still a million times better than you."

 

"Enough!"

 

Khushi looked up, in some small corner of her heart, expecting to see Shashi stand up for her. But it wasn't. The voice that came to her defense was none other than Arnav's, who pushed through the crowd to her, his face contorted with chilling rage.

 

"Before you continue your outrageous accusations, I suggest you keep your mouth shut," he said, his voice eerily calm.

 

Gaurav defiantly crossed his arms. "And if I don't?"

 

"Then Mr. Prakash," Arnav said. "I will have to tell our too willing of an audience, what a filthy scumbag you really are."

 

"How dare you-"

 

"Oh yes, I dare. You see the words of a man like you, who can stoop as low as drugging innocent girls, are given as much attention as one would to a fly. And that's just the beginning of the things you do on a regular basis. If I get into the all juicy details, then I'm afraid the newspapers tomorrow morning will run out of space to capture them all."

 

"And what of all the details about her?" he asked, gritting his teeth. "I'm sure being illegitimate already filled up the pages!"

 

"What proof do you have that whatever you are saying is true?"

 

"Ask her! If she really isn't illegitimate, then let her tell us who her dad is!"

 

"Khushi doesn't need to tell anyone anything," Arnav snapped. "Because that would do nothing but add unnecessary weightage to your meaningless point."

 

"But that just proves I'm right!"

 

"No, it doesn't. It just proves to everyone how senseless you are, making random claims just for some petty, college vendetta. And a little of piece of advice Mr. Prakash - you would do well to not insult the sister of the city's biggest lawyer. I believe Mr. Shyam Manohar Gupta holds the capability of snubbing you in jail for a minimum of ten years just on the basis of harassment."

 

Gaurav opened his mouth to answer, but Arnav cut him off.

 

"You would also do well to know that Khushi is here on my account. Insulting her means that you are insulting me. And I think your father holds his partnership with AR Designs too dearly to disregard seeing it end prematurely. He won't be pleased with you, to say the very least."

 

A new voice interrupted their argument.

 

"I'm so sorry Mr. Raizada!" said a middle-aged woman, hurriedly walking up to him in panic. "For everyone's sake, let's just end this here. I apologize sincerely for my son's rudeness."

 

Arnav gave her a livid look. "And you should."

 

Then taking a stunned Khushi's hand, he walked out the front door, leaving an equally astonished audience behind. By the time the valet faithfully brought Arnav's car, Khushi couldn't feel anything but the embarrassment she faced inside.

 

Would she ever be able lead a "normal" life? A life that didn't have carry the risk of falling apart in a moment's notice? Will she ever be free of the stigma her father passed on to her as inheritance? Or will she forever be stuck in the shadows of secrecy, hoping people would just forget her past?

 

The answer was obvious. It didn't matter that she was innocent; it didn't matter that her mother was wrongly framed. The prying questions would always be there, they would always be asked, even by the people on her side.

 

"Khushi," Arnav called, pulling up in front of her house. It was the first time he spoke since walking out of the party and his tone said everything she needed to hear.

 

So, swiftly unbuckling her seatbelt, she got out of the car and headed straight inside, not even turning back once to give him one last look.