"Over my dead body," he refused flatly.
"Sir, it wasn't a request. I have an order from the person who overrides most of your orders and I am given to understand that having eyes on the operation is critical for the success of all future operations of the same kind," Khushi said seriously.
"Grandma asked you to spy on me?" He asked her holding up two ties in front of her.
"You have a talent to cheapen everything I say," she huffed and folded her hands below her chest. He shoved the ties in her face bringing each tie an inch away from her eyes.
"You are being awfully understanding about the whole thing. Something is fishy," she said pointing to the tie in his left hand. He threw the one in his right on her face and started to work on the tie she had chosen.
"What are you up to?" She asked narrowing her eyes.
"Khushi. Khushi. Khushi."
Can anyone sound condescending by just saying a name? She thought glumly.
"You threw up a hissy fit last month when your grandmother asked you meet your family lawyer's niece," she said slapping his hands away and fixing his tie.
"Things change, you know? Earth moves, new plants come and go, oceans ebb and fall, a brand new day starts with rising sun, cells born and die in our body, evolution moves at snail pace and the universe expands just a little, etc." He replied. He bit his inside cheek when he saw her knit her eyebrows and think really hard.
She had gotten into her head that every abstract thing she read or heard had some sort of deep meaning or some crap like that. In his opinion, either she watched too many lame dramas or read stories written by rabid fan girls who symbolized every random thing they showed on screen.
For him, it was the best mode of entertainment when the random abstract words he threw at her, she would start psychoanalyzing him and his words and the results were part insane and part ludicrous.
"Whatever. I am going to go with you and sit discreetly away from you and observe you from afar," she said patting his shoulders and smoothing the wrinkles. He gave her a once over.
"Khushi, the dress you are wearing so bright that you can be the beacon of light for all the aliens out there – they can blindly follow the brightness of your dress thousands of kilometers away from earth and land right on top of you," he sniggered. She tugged his tie.
"Oh please. I am going undercover," she said with a smirk. He looked tad confused. "I'll be wearing nice jeans and a t-shirt," she replied dropping the smirk and looking little uncomfortable. She wasn't too fond of wearing anything other than whatever she designed for herself but grandmother was very clear – be a goose and not a flamingo.
"Undercover? Do we carry wireless radio and mike so that you can hear the conversation and we speak in code words?" He asked waspishly as he childishly shoved his hands into the jacket she was holding for him.
"That's a brilliant idea sir. Let me get them, hang on," she said and skipped to her cabin.
"What the f**k?" He cursed and a moment later followed her.
"Why do you have military grade discreet radio and microphone devices? And where the hell did you get money to buy this from?" His voice raised an octave when he saw the fancy spread on her table.
"I know a guy who knows a guy who has a friend who knows a guy whose cousin is an absolute geek and I sweet talked him into giving this to me." She said triumphantly.
"And cash for this?"
"I may have used the emergency credit card you gave me," Khushi said very very softly. "But this was a necessity investment that I had to make for this mission sir. If you want I can get an approval from grandma. I am sure she would understand my intentions when I explain why I used emergency credit card," she said. He sighed and rubbed his head. His grandma generally took the side opposite to him and when it came to Khushi even the rarest chance of her taking his side, was totally off. The girl had probably done some cheap black magic on his grandma to get her this kind of support.
"Let's just go," he said little defeated.
"Yay!" She said happily.
He just wanted to cry.
*****
"I think I have seen this girl before," he sent text to Khushi the moment he sat down in front of the girl, Sammy, who was waiting for him.
"Stop sending me texts and start talking to her." Came a furtive reply.
"You seem like a busy man." Her voice was husky. He looked up from Blackberry and smiled wanly at the woman sitting in front of him. She had ensured that her dress accentuated her figure in all the right places.
"I hope you don't mind. There is an important merger going on and it's something I am really looking forward to," he said.
"Oh! We can meet some other time then!" Sammy's voice was least bit apologetic. He restrained an eye roll.
"Ah! No, please. Now that I've seen you, I think I made a wise decision," he said honey dripping from his voice.
"Wise decision, my ass," Khushi's voice crackled in his ear piece. He jumped a little in his seat at the timing of her stupid comment and discreetly looked over Sammy's shoulder. There she was sticking her tongue out at him.
"Have we met before?" He asked Sammy suddenly.
"I don't think we have," she responded. "If we did, I would have definitely remembered you," she added. He nodded awkwardly and took the glass of lemonade. Probably sipping lemonade was a good idea to avoid further conversation?
"Sir, wear your sunglasses and take a good look at her bosom. I need that silicon percentage. I have waged a huge bet at office regarding this and I can't afford to lose!" Khushi said urgently into his ear piece.
He choked on lemonade and blatantly glared at her as Sammy leaned over with napkin in hand the table offering him a generous view of her front.
"See it! See it! See it!" Khushi literally screeched. He was torn between being embarrassed and annoyed.
"You better tell me that you got a good view mister," she had the audacity to threaten him.
"I am fine, thank you," he said taking the napkin. Sammy smiled and sat back in her seat.
"My pleasure," she said.
He could see Khushi rolling her eyes.
"At least 75%," He messaged her.
"YES!!" Khushi shouted loudly drawing attention from many patrons. She sobered when she felt the glare of her boss burning her butt. She slouched in her seat and drew up her hair all around her curtaining her pinked face from the world.
"Were you an actress before?" Arnav asked Sammy picking up the replaced glass of lemonade. Sammy was taken aback a little.
"I did act in couple of movies but they weren't all that…popular," she replied haltingly. Arnav blatantly started at her. And then it clicked. She was the female lead of a cheap horror movie which showed more skin than ghosts.
"I see," he said and smiled behind the glass of lemonade.
"Call me right now." He sent a text to Khushi.
"Hmm….no," she replied back instantly.
"Any sweets shop, your wish, anything you want – one week," he typed in smiling at Sammy once.
"One month." She was quick. She was like a monkey who could be made to do tricks by enticing them with peanuts.
"Fortnight. Take it or leave it. You know I can send one email and get a phone call too?" He loved the concept of blackmail.
Fifteen seconds later, his phone rang.
*****
"What's the bet you were talking about?" He asked her revving the car engine.
"Oh, that. When I got the files pulled on Sammy, it sort of went viral inside office. So we were betting on percentage. And since you are unbiased and all, I thought I should let you be the judge," she snickered at the end.
He stared at her.
"You are using your own boss to make money?" He asked her, his mouth wide.
"Again, what's with cheapening my intention? You just make me sound like a pimp. Come on, it was a little mistake on grandma's part okay?" She said.
"I have a feeling that it was intentional to set me up with that woman for all the headaches I've caused grandma," he said pathetically. Khushi bit her lip to contain her laughter.
They drove for moments of silence each drowned in their own thoughts.
"So, did you win the bet?" He asked.
"Let me check the website. I sent a text updating your confirmation of the number so let's see," she said and started jabbing buttons on her Blackberry.
"Wait. Website? What kind of website?" He asked Khushi who was least bit paying attention to him.
"Khushi?" He called her again but in vain.
What the f**k was going on in his company?
To be continued.
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