Shopaholic V/S Workaholic - Thread 3 (Reposting)

But he does not. He just gets a taxi and they climb in its warmth, shielded from the gales.

"Harrods, please," he mutters to the driver.

Khushi's head finally cleared as they zoomed off towards the town centre and a small smile tugged at her lips as she registered she was going to Harrods. She did nothing to stop it. Harrods was a place she had always loved. The decorations, the -

"So? Banking?"

"Huh?" Khushi frowned at him. What was he talking about?

"Earlier you had told me, you want to go into banking."

"Oh... Yeah, why not?" she asked with a shrug. He shook his head with amusement. Just then, the taxi stopped at a red light and Khushi shifted her gaze on the streets outside. A particular woman caught her attention.

She was thin. Sickly, bony-thin, that is, and so was her tall brown dog, which sported black stripes. She wore a hideous orange suit. They were like two skeletons walking there. The woman carried two bulging Iceland plastic bags, the dog leash and an apple green umbrella, which was been furiously blown by the wind. Every now and then, the umbrella would go at an arm's length from the lady and she would comically pull it back. Khushi smiled and soon she also notice that both the pet as well as its mistress were walking zigzagged due to the gusts.

Finally, the wind won. The umbrella slipped out of the woman's grasp to go slap a nearby man right on the face, while she tumbled on the pavement, her shopping rolling about.

Don't laugh, Khushi, she told herself. Be mature. Don't laugh. She bit the inside on her cheeks hard and glanced at Arnav. A small giggle escaped but she clamped her hand on her mouth immediately. His lips were drawn into a thin line. As soon as their eyes met, however, all composture vanished and they ended up laughing helplessly on the backseat of the taxi. Khushi wiped the tears for her eyes.

"Hum jaante hain ke sahi nahin hain... par thodi si hassi to banti hain..." she choked. (I know it's not right... but we sure can laugh a bit...)

He threw his head back and laughed again, triggering her too.

"Uss aadmi ko dekha tumne?" (Did you see that man?)

They laughed again and the lights turned green.

"Uss aurat ke kapde? Orange suit, man! Bright orange suit! That should be banned from this planet!" (That woman's clothes?...)

"Yeah! Absolutely right!" he nodded seriously under her amused gaze. "Orange suits are from now onwards banned."

***

When the driver pulled up at Harrods, they were still laughing at some silly joke. Arnav finally got down and pulled out his wallet while Khushi staggered out of the car. The taxi revved off leaving them on the crowded pavement. Arnav turned to Khushi who was still smiling, straightening her dress. He noticed she had gone pale from the cold and was shivering a bit but he knew she would not say anything.

A smirk tugged at his lips and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, extracting a shocked expression from her. Khushi looked up at him, her beautiful eyes large and innocent. He stood in a way to protect her as best as he could from the strong wings, which were seemingly powerful enough to blow this delicate flower away.

"Let's go in," he said, his voice neutral.

He did not want to show her how much she affected him. He pushed through the throngs, his arm tightening around her, with the fear of losing her in the people around them along with that of her being blown away and getting hurt. He felt her eyes on his face all the while, yet he did not look at her, because he already knew her cocoa brown orbs would be full of questions he would not be able to answer.

Finally they reached the safety of the inside of the building, his arm slid off and he immediately sensed her taking a nervous step back.

"S-s-s-so... w-what..." she stammered. Was it the sudden warmth after the October gales, or was the edgy Khushi back?

Arnav finally looked at her. Definitely the edgy Khushi.

"What?" he asked.

"What?" she repeated in confusion.

He snorted. "What were you saying, Khushi?"

Khushi frowned. "What was I..."

This time, he smirked at her with a glint of mischief. "Stop repeating whatever I say!"

She looked down, blushing deeply.

"Come on, now!"

And suddenly, Khushi was being towed deeper inside the complex by The Arnav Singh Raizada.

***

"So... You'll be shopping for suitcases?" she asked incredulously, only for him to nod seriously and go inside the shop to have a closer look.

Heck, she had never ventured that particular field! And now The ASR had taken her to the Harrods branch of Louis Vuitton for advice on suitcase shopping. Louis Vuitton? How could have thought Khushi Kumaari Gupta would one day enter a Louis Vuitton? In Harrods? With The Arnav Singh Raizada?

"He asked me if... if you had boyfriend."

She shook her head to remove this thought and gulped looking at the shop. Carefully she stepped in, admiring the interior, taking one step at a time, as though entering a mandir, her eyes wide with fascination.

"Khushi? Why are you taking so long?"

She jerked, suddenly drawn out of her initial heady feeling of beatific admiration and scuttled to her companion.

"So? What do you think?" his arms were crossed on his chest, his brow raised.

Khushi pouted her lips, pondering. "It depends... They're all great..."

"But what would you choose?"

She sighed to herself. There! The inquisitive Laad Governor is back! But there was no point bluffing, right? He would sniff the truth out.

"Actually... to tell the truth, I am not really an expert..."

"In shopping?"

"No, in suitcases."

He smiled gently. "Okay... never mind! Even as a non-expert, what would be your choice?"

Khushi shrugged and walked towards the start of the shop. "Let's have a better look!"

And then, the hunt began...

Khushi shook her head frantically. "Never! Nothing alcoholic!"

He smiled as he sipped at his red Fonseca, and she took a nervous gulp from her glass of Sprite. She was a funny thing, even funnier than he remembered from Lucknow. One moment she was totally relaxed and helping him in choosing a suitcases, the next she sat at dinner with him stiffly, as though she was meeting him for the first time.

"You know, it was nice meeting you the other night."

Arnav mused when she brow crinkled into a small frown. "What?"

"At the restaurant?"

She frowned deeper, before she realised what he was talking about and then, blood rushed up in her face.

"Oh... that?"

"And at Lucknow too."

He smiled as she blushed deeper. The eighth wonder of his world, indeed!

***

"So? Who did you buy the suitcase for?" she asked casually, stabbing at her leafy salad, careful not to look into his inquisitive eyes.

"My girlfriend."

Khushi froze at his answer. He had said so easily, as if it were something he did every other day. Shopping for your girlfriend with another girl. She looked up at him in astonishment but he just ate his seafood salad as normal as the sky was blue and air colourless, his face an impassive wall.

"Are you serious?" she spluttered at him, her eyes narrowed. It was a joke? Right?

"Yeah," he looked towards her before wiping his mouth on the corner of his napkin. "What?" he asked, noting the incredulous look on her face.

"You have a girlfriend?"

"Shouldn't I?"

Khushi ground her teeth together to keep her anger from pouring out. "And you went shopping for her with another girl?"

"So what?"

She couldn't believe it! This man! Did he possess a single drop of shame or emotion? Did he care for nothing? Not even his girlfriend?

"But... what will she say when she learns...?"

"That I went shopping with another girl?" he merely smirked at her and shrugged at her shock. "It'll amuse her."

Her heart sank in disgust for him and her appetite died instantly. How could anyone even stand a man like this? And by the looks of it, his girlfriend was not the least bit different.

"It'll amuse her."

She pushed her plate away from her just when he had picked up his fork again. She felt betrayed, used, stupid. And she hated him for making her feel that way. Tears of disappointment filled her eyes but she swallowed them back.

"You know what?" she said calmly. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"Oh c'mon, Khushi! Don't be silly. Sit down and eat your dinner. I'm sorry you didn't know about my girlfriend, but we can still be friends, right?"

"I don't think so."

Arnav raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Khushi-"

But she did not listen. Instead, she picked her handbag and stormed out of the restaurant, without looking at him even once.

"Khushi!" he called again, but it was too late. She was gone. "Shit!"

Arnav sank back in his chair, his face buried in his hands. He had messed up... again...

***

"Ok, tell me right away! What the f**k is wrong with you?"

Khushi rounded on Anji, her eyes wide in surprise.

"Anji! Mind your language!"

Anjali sat on the couch beside Khushi.

"Khush! Tell me! I've seen you've been acting weirdly since the past week!"

Khushi shrugged in response, her eyes fixed on the screen before her where Jerry was pulling at a sleeping Tom's whiskers. Anji sighed. Maybe she was having problems at work.

"Okay! We'll do something! Let's just go out for dinner tonight. Shyaam, you and I! Okay?"

***

"Khushi, I want you to go to this. Sorry, I would have gone myself but I have a dinner to attend."

Edward handed her a sheet of paper which she took with a smile.

"No problem, Ed! I'll handle it!"

It had been two weeks since the Arnav Singh Raizada incident and she had been able to push it out of her mind. Who cared about him anyway? But one look at the paper she had just taken from Ed drained all the blood from her face. There the AR Communications logo on the top left of the page. She looked up to see Ed was already heading to the exit.

She had already accepted the job now, though, had she not? So that meant she would have to go? And see horrible Mr Raizada's face again?

***

"Hey! Mariah!"

"Khushi! So nice to see you again."

Mariah kissed her on both cheeks before she saw another acquaintance. "I'll catch you later, okay?"

Khushi nodded, smiling nervously, and watched her colleague disappear in the crowd.

"Khushi. Glad to see you made it."

Her smile melted away immediately like a knob of butter thrown into a hot pan. She turned on Arnav Singh Raizada to meet his smouldering coffee eyes which roved hers, tried to grope deep inside for her emotions which she did her best to hide. She suddenly felt sick. All the things she had planned to say to him if she ever saw him again died right there on her lips. Her mouth went dry.

"Hi," came out, simply, her heart beating erratically. Wait a minute! Why was her heartbeat so fast? And why was she even saying hi to him?

He stepped closer to her. "I was hoping you would come... I wanted to-"

She turned to the groups of people around them, uncomfortable because of his closeness. "Well, I cannot stand here and talk to you," she whispered harshly as the feeling of betrayal swept over her. What he had done to her the other day returned to her as fresh wound. "I am here to work, so please, excuse me."

Khushi walked away from where he stood without turning back. She strolled around but she did not see anyone she knew. Not even Mariah. She smiled randomly at some people but none of them reacted. Once, she met a pair of dark coffee orbs across the tent and she noticed Arnav starting to move towards her.

Quick, Khushi! Find someone before he reaches you!

"Hi there! I'm Khushi Gupta from The Economist."

The guy seemed pathetic. He was dressed in a drab knee-length overcoat of a mustard-ish brown shade and thick, grey rimmed spectacled. His dirty blonde hair was unfashionably pulled to one side with what looked like... oil?

"Hello," he smiled at her. "I'm Ethan Dente, of Rosebud Banks, pleased to meet you. And this is my assistant, Archie Board," he pointed to the woman beside him, wearing an electric pink dress and excessive amounts of make-up.

Khushi stared at them in shock. Ethan Dente. Rosebud banks. Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! It was the bank she was indebted to! And this Ethan was the manager there! He had sent her innumerable letters and memos asking her to pay her debts but she ignored each of them. When he called home she would invent all sorts of illnesses to avoid meeting him.

The woman narrowed her eyes at Khushi. "Khushi Gupta... familiar name, isn't it, Ethan?"

Don't recognise me! Don't recognise me!

"Err... You might have read one of my articles," Khushi squeaked as soon as she realised they had no idea who she was. She pasted a big grin on her face, hoping to escape quickly. Suddenly, Arnav Singh Raizada's company seemed a much better option.

"Khushi!"

Oh no! Jeff!

A fat balding man came up to her and flung an arm around her. He stunk of alcohol, making Khushi wince.

"Sir! You're drunk!"

He chortled and ignored her to start a conversation with Ethan and Archie. Khushi was desperate to leave but he had her imprisoned under his weight. The introductions were quickly made.

"Ah! Rosebud Banks, you say? Which branch?"

Ethan smiled tightly. "Fulham."

Oh crap!

"Fulham? Trendy Fulham!" Jeff exclaimed.

Shut up Jeff! Don't you say anything about me!

"So, you must know Khushi here!" Jeff went on. "She lives there too!"

It was like the sun was dawning on both Ethan and his assistant's faces. Khushi's smile fell and Jeff straightened himself.

"Well! Nice meeting you!" he held up a finger. "I need another drink!"

"So, Ethan," said Archie shrilly. "Khushi Gupta, familiar name, isn't it?"

Her eyes were shooting daggers at Khushi who gulped nervously. Ethan nodded.

"In fact, one of our clients, right?" he replied sardonically.

"The one who had cancelled our last meeting because her dog had just died?"

"If I'm not wrong, yes."

They both looked at Khushi who stood there like a lamb cornered by two ferocious lions.

"I..."

"Listen to me very clearly, Miss Gupta," Ethan Dente growled at her, a dangerous edge in her voice. "I'm scheduling another meeting, the first Monday of the next month at nine in the morning. I'm giving you enough time to gather your funds to repay your debts. A memo will be sent to you and I will be expecting you. Otherwise, if you boss learns about this..."

Khushi nodded frantically. "I'll be there."

"Fine," Ethan said with a smile after a pause, though Archie did not seem that impressed. "I'll be waiting for you, Miss Gupta."

"Fine."

"We'll know where to find you if you don't turn up now..."

***

She ran away as soon as they had left her alone. Thankfully, she had not seen Raizada again. Khushi sat in the tube on her way back home, pondering on her encounter with Dente. Now he had seen her, he knew where exactly where she worked.

That was utter crap! Jeff was an ass. Couldn't he just keep his fat mouth shut or what? She did have a few option in front of her.

She could go and throw a cheque on their faces. But the problem was, where would she get the money from. She could go tell Ethan Dente the truth, that is she did not have the money. No, that offered no escape. In fact, she knew it would be easier for him to sue her. She could lie, say that the money was on its way. The trouble? They would never believe her.

Another option? Simple. Just don't go to the bloody meeting! But they knew where she worked, and once this whole story reached her boss's ears, she would be fired on the spot. She could run away, leave town, leave the country. But where to? Garima's? Khushi sighed. She did want to burden her aunt once again. And asking money from Anji was out of question. Anjali already had her own expenses and on the top of everything else, since the past few months, she had been the only one to pay the rent.

She tried thinking of anything else, but her mind had gone blank. Absolutely blank. On a hitch she looked up, out of the train which had just stopped.

Oh blast!

She had missed her stop!

***

"Hey Khushi," she heard a grim voice coming from in front of her. She raised her eyes from her coffee to see Saira, who had an apartment on the same floor as Anji and her. Saira was a Pakistani girl who had initially come to London for her studies. During her first year at university, she had fallen in love with a British Christian, one of her professors, and she had even gone against her family to marry him.

Less than six months later, he had gotten bored with her and left her alone and pregnant. When Saira had realised she was going to have a baby, she had gone to see him to plead him to return at least for their unborn child's sake, only to learn her so-called husband had been married already for some fifteen years and he had four children with his wife. A heartbroken Saira had then lived her life on her own with her two daughters, identical twins, Zaynah and Zafirah.

"Can sit at your table?"

Khushi nodded with a smile even though a storm was brewing in her mind. Three weeks had gone by and she had no idea of how to reimburse the money to Rosebud Banks.

"Hey Saira. How are the girls?"

"Fine."

Khushi noticed her friend's thoughtful frown.

"Is there something wrong, Saira?"

The woman looked at Khushi silently for some time. Then, suddenly, she broke down.

***

"So, what are you going to do now?" Anjali whispered.

"I don't know!" Saira wailed. "My daughters! What will happen to them?"

Khushi and Anji glanced at each other. When Saira had burst into tears downstairs in the cafe, Khushi had steered her up in her flat where Anji had just woken up. The girls were thankfully off to school and their mother had told the two friends what had happened.

The insurance that covered Saira's little family, Brunswick Life, had just faced a terrible windfall. All the clients were supposed to be refunded their investments as well as the profits but when Saira had phoned them, she had learnt that she would not be acknowledgeable for this. In fact, a few weeks earlier, an agent had proposed some sort of deal which Saira had accepted and, unknown to her, it had had an effect on her contract. Now, she had recently lost her job and hearing of the windfall, she had hoped to get some money. But she felt at a loss.

Khushi gritted her teeth and stared outside the window. Who the hell had invited trouble over here?

Khushi was sitting on her bed working furiously on her laptop when Anji came in with two large mugs of coffee.

"Still worried about Saira?"

Startled, Khushi looked up with wide eyes and relaxed when she saw it was her friend only. "Hey, listen! I've read a bit about this insurance company and I think there's something really fishy going on."

"What?" Anji climbed in hurriedly as her interest peaked.

"Yup! See, Saira is not the only one. There are many other people throughout Britain who had received this deal and it seemed quite promising. And all of them missed out on their windfall!" as Khushi spoke, she felt the determination to help these people rise in her.

Anji gasped. "Oh my God! They've all been conned? By the insurance company?"

"I guess... Anji... Kuchh jal raha hai?" (...Is something burning?)

Anjali jumped off the bed shrieking. "Oh dear! The scones!"

She skittered out of the room hurriedly. Khushi sipped on her coffee, absorbed in her thoughts when it suddenly hit her. Her eyes widened with excitement. Quickly, she hopped across the room to get her mobile from her handbag and when she had found what she needed, she dialled the number, bouncing on her tiptoes.

"Hello, Giles Clifton from the London Times? This is Khushi Gupta here. I have a story which might interest you..."

***

Anji pushed the door open and stared at her friend. Never in her life she had seen Khushi work this hard in her whole life. Not even in her dreams.

"Khush?"

"Yeah?" she had replied without bothering to lift her eyes from her laptop screen.

"Saira and Shyaam are here."

Khushi nodded and fiddled with the mouse. Finally she looked up with a bright smile.

***

"So, Saira," Khushi sat down on the couch beside Anji. "I've written an article on what happened to you and all those people out there. It will be published tomorrow if everything goes well. I just need to make a few phone calls to your insurance company."

"What for?" Anji asked incredulously.

"Put them on their guards and let them get their defences ready?"

Shyaam frowned. Actually, it was Anji who had summoned him to help Saira. Benevolant at heart, unlike many other lawyers they knew, he had agreed to fight the case, if ever the matter reached court, for Saira.

"What defense?" he blurted out. "They cannot defend themselves for whatever they did, not just to your friend here, but also all those clients they conned!"

Khushi smirked and raised a brow at the three of them as she reached for the phone. "Exactly."

Adrenaline pumping hard in her veins, Khushi dialled OurSupport Company Ltd. She sighed angrily when the lady on the phone gave her another number. Her eyebrows knitted together while she noted it down. It seemed vaguely familiar. But she shrugged and went on with her work as Anji, Shyaam and Saira chatted with a little more joy than earlier.

"Hello, AR Communications. How can I help you?"

Khushi's smile fell, horror freezing her mind. AR Communications? Arnav Singh Raizada's company? She bit her lip nervously. Why did she have to collide with that shaitan in every step of her life? Why? Why him, Devi Maiyya? She raised her eyes to the ceiling with a pleading expression.

"Hello?" the voice brought her out of her silent prayer so unexpectedly she nearly dropped the receiver.

"Yes, umm... This is Khushi Gupta, I would like to speak to someone... about the OurSupport Company Ltd?" she croaked, her heart pounding.

"Let me check, hold on... Yeah, ASR's client. Wait a minute I'll just put you on a line."

Not him! Not him! Please Devi Maiyya! Just this once, not him!

"Khushi!"

A second time after having dialled the same number, Khushi froze as her jaw dropped open, her mind recognising that sickly sweet but sardonic voice. She could not believe it! Fakhreen Sukhmani?

"Long time no see, darling!" Khushi ground her teeth together at the piercing voice. Bitch! Now I think about it, talking to Arnav Singh Raizada would have been a great deal better... and easier!

"Fakhreen," she replied, dripping each of the words in equal amounts of syrup and sarcasm. "Indeed. I did not know you worked for AR Communications." Else, I wouldn't have called.

There had been a time when Fakhreen and Khushi had been good friends. Or that was just for Khushi. Sometime later, Khushi had learnt that her so-called good friend was just a jealous, backstabbing bitch, who enjoy circulating false gossip about her. That had been the end of the camaraderie but the start of a sour and very bitter relationship, close to enemity.

"Stella told me you wanted to talk about OurSupport? Oh darling, ASR is not here actually, or you could have talked to him. But don't worry, I'll be able to answer all your questions myself."

"But they're not your client, are they?"

"Who cares? It's for your article, right? What did you want to know?"

"Actually-"

"Do one thing, will you? Send all your questions by fax. I'm a bit busy right now."

Fakhreen disconnected before Khushi could say another word.

"Khush? What happened?" Anji got and walked to her friend. "You look like someone ran nails on a blackboard, magnified that sound over a thousand times and blast that in your ears."

Khushi frowned at Anji's worried face. "Remember Fakhreen Sukhmani?"

"F**ker Sucker?" Anji spluttered. Khushi burst out laughing at the reminder of the sobriquet they had given to the bitch.

***

Finally, today was the day! At eight in the morning, Khushi was already on the streets, jogging towards the nearest WHSmith.

"A copy of today's London times, please."

She leafed through it hurriedly until she found her article. He Devi Maiyya! 'Single Mother of Two Cheated by Hungry Cats at OurSupport!'

She could have died of joy!

***

After zillions of calls of congratulations for the very well written article and several offers of jobs, Khushi finally sank in the sofa sighing. Anji had just left for a date. The phone rang again.

"Good morning, Khushi Gupta here," she said in a rehearsed, business-like manner.

"What the hell is so good about this morning?"

Khushi near dropped the phone as she recognised the voice.

"Would you like to explain to me what the f**k does this mean?"

"M-M-Mr R-r-r-raizada? W-w-what are y-y-you..."

Arnav sighed in frustration. "This bloody article published in the London Times, dammit! What the hell does this mean, Miss Gupta?"

Khushi nibbled on her thumb nervously as Arnav Singh Raizada's angry words poured down around her.

Ab kya? (What now?)

Crap.

He sounded pretty angry. In fact, so angry, Khushi felt she was paralysed right there, one hand pressing the receiver and the other being nibbled between her teeth.

But hang on! She had done nothing wrong!

"I don't know what you mean," she said racking her brains for witty arguments she could throw at his face.

"I told you, dammit! I'm talking about that bloody OurSupport number you've splashed all over today's London Times! That one-sided, unbalanced story you made up! Pretty tawdry effort, I should say."

What? Tawdry? One-sided and unbalanced? Made up?

"It's not tawdry! And certainly not made up! I can prove everything I said, Mr Arnav Singh Raizada!"

"Yeah? And getting our side of the story did not seem necessary to you? I guess you were too busy writing your article, right? You rather feed people with your good story rather than putting a more balance article, blotched with some facts from OurSupport," he told her scathingly.

Khushi felt her own temper rising beyond her bounds.

"Well, Mr Raizada, I did try to get your side of the story, but apparently, you're such a busy man! Your great pompous ass could not stay in your office where it should be when I called yesterday, so I was made to talk to someone else. She knew very well I was writing this piece!"

There was dead silence for a few minutes.

"Who did you speak to?" he asked, calmer now.

"F**k-... Fakhreen Sukhmani," she replied, calming down too. Khushi realised she was panting slightly; well, she had never lost her temper like that! "I asked her a few clear questions about the matter but she told me to fax them to her. And guess what? I never got a reply. When I called again later on, it went on voicemail. What did you expect me to do? I had a deadline."

"Why the f**k did you speak to Sukhmani? OurSupport is my client, not hers, dammit!"

"Don't you think I told her? But she said you were away!"

"You told her who you were writing for?"

"She did not bother asking, so I didn't bother to tell her."

God! She was getting really irritated right now.

"For your information, Khushi-"

"Whatever it is, Mr Arnav Singh Raizada, thanks for your information, but I don't need it! She did not bother to ask, that makes it none of my fault! She thought it was nothing important, did she? Well she was totally wrong! Maybe that'll teach you guys to treat everyone to respect people, not just those you think are worth it!"

She heard him sigh loudly, and she could almost see him, sitting on one of those great leather armchairs big businessmen use at their offices, pinching the bridge of his nose and try to control his rage.

"Khushi, if you're doing this because of what happened the other day... if this is a petty revenge-"

She clenched her fist around the receiver. She could not believe he was saying this to her.

"Don't you bloody insult me, Mr Raizada! I'm not that kind of girl! I'm just helping a friend if you want to know!" she yelled at him, pouring all the rage she had stored up since weeks after the 'Suitcase Incident', as she called it.

"Don't you dare make this personal! I was completely professional in my approach and I even gave you every opportunity to give me your side of things and if you blew up each of them, then I'm very sorry, but it's out of my hands. Goodbye!"

***

He stared at the receiver, his eyes wide in shock, after she had finished with her outburst and crashed the phone to disconnect.

So, Khushi Kumaari Gupta knew how to yell at someone and she also swore at people. Well, okay, not 'people' exactly, him, but still... And she knew how to defend herself.

Was this the same, shy girl he had met more than a month ago? Was this the same girl who could never have a proper conversation with him, who could not talk to him without stammering?

"Bloody hell," he whispered to himself, grinning at the receiver and he gently put it down. "She's unbelievable."

The eighth wonder of the world.

All the people in the streets got scared of him by just one glare of his. And he had just roared mercilessly at this girl who held the appearance of a lamb. But surely enough,l'apparence ne fait pas le moine. All that is gold does not shine. Khushi Kumaari Gupta was a lioness in disguise. She had rivalled his roars with her own and in the end she had won. She had been able to shup him up and have the last word.

Pretty courageous of her to challenge the ASR.

But he would deal with her later. In a blink of the eye, she wiped off his grin and called his assistant.

"Ya, Aman? Send Miss Sukhmani in."

***

An hour later, the phone rang again. Khushi gritted her teeth and stared at it hoping that both the phone and Arnav Singh Raizada's head would blast into zillions of fragments. But obviously that was not going to happen. She sighed picked up.

Stay cool. Relax. Don't panic. He's not worth it.

"Hello," she muttered a cold greeting. She knew it was him. She just knew it was-

"Hi, Khushi! Giles Clifton here!"

"Oh, hi!" she replied truly surprised. She had been expecting Mr Raizada trying to blow up her head again all along!

"Hey, listen, I've just got First Hour Tea on the phone, minutes before I called you! You know the TV show? With Eric Brennan and Madeleine Hein? They're interested in your story."

"What?" Khushi frowned stupidly.

"There's this thing they're doing on finance, Khushi. Every week, a finance expert is invited on their show to give advice and things like that. They'd run out of ideas about what to do next 'cause they've covered almost everything. But then this scandal you brought up gave them an idea, when they read your article..."

Okay... so, Eric and Madeleine read her article... they read it themselves?

"So, they want you on their show tomorrow morning. You talk about the windfall, warn the viewers and all. What say? This kind of... thing interests you? Or I can tell them you're busy."

"No!" her mouth had suddenly gone dry. "No... tell them..." she licked her lips slowly. "Tell them I'm interested."

After she had disconnected, Khushi stared in front of her blankly for quite some time. The blare of a horn outside, tore her out of her daze and suddenly she was yelling like mad.

"I'm going to be on TV!"

A chauffeur-driven car was already there at seven in the morning to take Khushi to the studios. Anjali, Shyaam - who had stayed back and spent the night in the living room - and Saira sent her off with lots of cheers and wishes.

"Good luck, Khush!" she heard Anji shout as they drive away.

She sighed internally in pure bliss. Today would be a great day in her life. The car reached Maida Vale, where the studios are found thirty minutes later. Khushi walked in, stiff with her jumpy nerves.

"Hello," she stuttered to the receptionist. "I'm here for First Hour Tea. I mean-"

The middle-aged woman smiled. "I know."

She called up someone and soon Khushi found herself escorted by a blond guy with sea-green eyes. He seemed cute, but for some reason, a small irritating voice in her head was bleeping, not better than Arnav Singh Raizada...

She frowned furiously to herself. She shouldn't think about that two timing idiot!

"Hello, Khushi! It's a pleasure meeting you."

Khushi gasped, recognising Madeleine Hein at once. They shook hands enthusiastically.

"Oh, thank you very much, Madeleine. I'm so happy too," she blubbered.

"Please! Call me Maddy!" Another woman came up to them. She had short cropped red hair and a kind of mean smile. "By the way, this is Annie. She'll be in charge of your make up."

Maddy excused herself when her phone burst out ringing. She returned a few minutes later, an excited smile plastered on her face.

"So? Are you ready for the debate?"

"Debate?" Khushi spluttered in utter shock.

"Yes," Maddy nodded enthusiastically. "The high powered debate we'll be having on the show!"

Khushi blinked in confusion. Giles was so dead!

"And against whom... is... this debate?"

Maddy raised her brows mysteriously. "A representative of the insurance company, of course." Then her phone rang again and she disappeared down the corridor.

***

As Annie walked her to the green room, Khushi's ears buzzed so loudly that she couldn't hear anything else. She didn't ever dare to look up from her feet. She kept muttering things even she could not comprehend under her breath as she walked.

Until she walked into something. Someone.

"What the-?" was the first thing she heard as her eyes closed tight and her hands closed around a rough piece of cloth.

Hands wrapped around her waist, holding her from falling to the ground.

Faintly, she did recognised that catch-phrase from somewhere. But where?

That voice too was very familiar.

He Devi Maiyya!

Her eyes popped open in stark shock.

***

He gazed down at her face in admiration. God, she was beautiful! So beautiful she couldn't tear his eyes from her for a quite long time. Her face was bare of make-up, her eyes scrunched shut and her lips drawn in an adorable pout as she waited for the ground to hit her.

But he had made sure it wouldn't, binding her to his body with his arms around her.

His eighth wonder of the world. Arnav bit down a smirk as her breath hitched. He could bet everything he owned that she had recognised him. Almost immediately, her eyes snapped open and he registered the surprise, crystallised in a complicated mesh of horror, that emerged, clouding her expression.

He decided to play it cool, so, as nonchalantly as he could, he disengaged her from his hold but did not step back. He, as the arrogant business tycoon he was, would not back out from her, a mere journalist. Because that was the way things would go till the show ended.

He had personally called up Madeleine after he had dealt with Fakhreen Sukhmani when he had learnt from his very reliable source that Khushi Gupta was to come on First Time Tea, as he had sworn Khushi would be next on his hit-list. He had 'requested' the anchor of the show to try put this up as a debate between the article's writer and him, the representative of OurSupport Company Ltd.

Arnav had to prove his client blameless by hook or by crook. It would save his image and he would win. The incident back in Lucknow, during Ulka's wedding, flashed again in front of his eyes. He had underestimated her, Khushi Kumaari Gupta, but she had cut his nose and danced her way faultlessly to her victory which generated his own loss.

But history would not be repeated, he assured himself, smirking internally. He was prepared this time and would defeat her, on the television, when over a billion of people would be watching. He had made sure Khushi would never know he would be on the sets, never get the hint that a debate would be held, and reach here unprepared for the shock.

He allowed his lips to stretch into an evil smirk when he realised it had dawned on her.

"Hi, Miss Gupta," he said coolly.

Now let's see who'll win.

***

She gaped at him in disbelief.

This was a trick! A trap!

He wanted to insult her in the worst way possible. On TV!

He Devi Maiyya! What to do now?

All the time Annie was painting her face with make-up, her eyes remained fixed on Arnav Singh Raizada. He walked all over the place as if he owned it without sparing her the briefest glance. In fact, it appeared that his whole London branch office had been squeezed inside the green room of the studios, with all the staff bustling around.

His jacket, vest and tie lay discarded on a desk for until later and he had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows as he bossed around. He had his Bluetooth plugged into his right ear. Sometimes, he was checking some documents, sometimes barking orders on the phone, sometimes insulting someone out of stress and frustration.

Khushi shuddered. Life would be hell if one day she had to work under him. And she prayed that day would never come. But it was itching her. The fact he was so prepared, that is. She had nothing on hand. No preparation, no notes, no facts, nothing.

What the hell! Why hadn't Giles or anyone informed her? She wanted to murder someone. Anyone!

But she would feel better if she had one particular person.

Arnav Singh Raizada.

And she would definitely give him the most atrociously painful death anyone could have imagined!

Laad Governor that he was...

Khushi closed her eyes and calmly reminded herself why she was there. To help Saira and her family. She was not there for herself but for three other people. Their lives were practically depending on her...

So she couldn't just let herself get trampled over, right?

Had it been just her, she would probably have shrugged the shame away but now? No.

Arnav Singh Raizada could not win and make his client appear to be the innocent. Because OurSupport was not. It was a leech.

She took a deep breath in and opened her eyes in determination.

She had to have to have to make it through... at any cost...

"Khushi!" A shrill voice pierces her eardrum. Oh God! Not her! Not that Fakhreen sucker-bitch again! Why hasn't she been sacked yet? She gave Khushi a little mocking wave and left.

Maddy stuck for head in the room. "Let's go, Arnav, Khushi! Five minutes and we're on!"

"Fine," Arnav said getting up to put on his tie and waistcoat and jacket.

Annie scurried up to Khushi for the touch up. "Fine," she echoed feebly, not feeling fine at all.

***

"Good morning to all of you out there and welcome to this special edition of First Hour Tea," Maddy spoke to the camera with perfect ease. "We have with us today Khushi Gupta, freelance journalist who works for The Economist and has recently written an article on the windfall of OurSupport Company Ltd, which most of you must have heard of..."

In Khushi's mind, Maddy's voice trailed away into an irritating buzz, while she sat in the comfy turquoise blue leather chair, and wearing an emerald green Juicy couture dress.

"...do you think this kind of sham is usual?"

There was suddenly a defeaning silence before Khushi realised everyone was waiting for her to speak. She suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe and her eyes were widening.

"Should the investors be more prudent, you think?" Eric prompted her expectantly.

Khushi blinked confusedly. "Yes... yes I think they should."

God! Why did her mouth feel like someone had stuffed wool in it? And all those speeches she had mentally prepared on the way here?

"Arnav, as a representative of OurSupport Company Ltd" Maddy turned towards him. "Do you think-?"

Crap! She felt like an idiot! And now she was not even paying attention to what Raizada was saying.

"This is certainly not a case of sham or deception or anything," he was saying smoothly, completely at ease with the camera in front of him. "Nobody can predict a windfall, it just happens. This case is simple. It's just that some investors who happen to be greedy stir up bad rumours to sink the company. We should remember that there are thousands of people who have benefitted from OurSupport."

What? What?

"I see, but-"

"Wait a minute!" Khushi interrupted Eric harshly. "Mr Raizada, are you implying that the investors are greedy?"

Arnav shrugged. "Not all, maybe some."

Khushi gaped at him, her skin burning with fury. How dare he? An image of Saira and her daughters flashed in her mind. Saira was an innocent girl, she had herself been tricked by a man and found herself a lone mother and now this man who lived each of his days in a cosy cocoon was accusing Saira?

For a few moments she couldn't speak. Eric was already asking Arnav a question but she didn't care. She was here to defend Saira and all those who had been conned and she would do it even if it killed her!

Which of course was out of question.

You don't die debating on TV while you're defending a bunch of abused folks, right? But you do die defending your country on the border.

Crap! What the heck am I thinking? Get to the real thing!

"Mr Raizada! Correct me if I'm wrong, okay!" she said her voice loud. Khushi had even miraculously forgotten about the cameras which were focusing on her face presently. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but OurSupport Company Ltd was originally a mutual company! Which means it involves the mutual benefit of all the investors!"

Arnav clenched his jaws together. "Yes," he replied without flickering. "But that does not mean all the investors should get an amount of 20,000 like your friend claims."

"You could be right," she snapped back, stiffening in her chair. "But it also does not mean that the investors are entitled to get conned by the freaking company! Saira trusted the company and look where it took her!"

He rolled his eyes grimly. "Investment is a game of luck."

"Not it is not in this particular case! How do you explain the fact that exactly two week prior to the downfall, over hundreds of investors were instigated to agree to some modifications in their contract, hence banning them the money which is their right?"

"My clients were simply making an available offer. They were assuring to make their clients happy. They-"

"Excuse me? So what you are trying to say is that your clients are incompetent."

Anger flashed in his hot chocolate eyes and Khushi felt tiny bubbles of elation erupting all over her.

"Look-"

Maddy gave a short, alarmed cry as she understood Arnav was finally losing his composture but she disguised it as a sort of laughter. "Well... we could go on debating all day but... we'll move to-"

"Oh, c'mon, Mr Raizada!" Khushi interrupted. Now she was in the mood for fighting him, in front of the whole world, she did not care. She wanted to now. She was Khushi Kumaari Gupta and it would take more than a spoilt, sarcastic workaholic like Arnav Singh Raizada to take her down. "You can't have it both ways!"

She leaned forward ticking the options on her hand. "Either your clients were incompetent, or they were actually stealing money from their investors! Whichever you tell me, your clients will be at fault! It's so obvious!"

She looked around for support but both Eric and Maddy were shell-shocked with their jaws hanging open and all. Didn't these guys realise they were live on TV right now? As for Arnav, he was shooting daggers at her, still looking for the correct argument but it seemed she had blown his socks off.

She stared at Eric who seemed to be coming out of it. He gave her a small I'm-not-very-sure laugh. "This is... uhm... too technical for me..."

Khushi sighed in frustration. "Okay, let's put it another way, then. Let's imagine..." she pinched her eyes shut. Think of something, Khushi, think! Then it clicked.

"Okay, we'll put it this way. Just imagine you're in a clothes shop. And you've chosen this fabulous cashmere Nicole Farhi knitwear."

"Hey, I love Nicole Farhi!" Maddy exclaimed, suddenly snapping out of it.

"But then, a sales assistant comes and tell you there's a better offer. She shows this other coat which she says is better quality at a better price, and you even get a voucher free with it. You have no reason not to trust her. So you buy it!"

She opened her eyes to find Maddy, Eric and even Mr Raizada listening intently. "But when, you get out," she continued, her eyes wide. "You find out that far from being a designer clothing, the coat you've bought id not even real cashmere. And cherry on top of cake? The voucher is expires, so you cannot use it."

"But that's outrageous!" shrieks Eric. "That's a pure sham!"

"Exactly! It's a rip-off!" Khushi punched one fist on the other palm with a victorious smile. At least she was getting people on her side now. "OurSupport did not break the law maybe but they did break the trust of so many clients. Faithful clients! And that's just not done! It's unfair to all those who've trusted the company so for many years and stuck with them when they could have gone elsewhere to get better offers!"

She fixed her gaze with Arnav's unwavering one. "If you are honest, Mr Raizada, I'm sure you'll recognise that."

He stared at her but she could only imagine what was going on inside that thick skull of his. Maybe he was looking for another rebuke? She had no idea.

"Arnav?" she heard Maddy say. "Do you have any argument against what Khushi just said?"

He did not reply. He kept staring at her. And Khushi did not feel like looking away, even if her heart was waltzing against her ribcage.

"Arnav, do you-?"

"Yes..." he broke the contact to shake his head, his eyes full of amusement and Khushi realised he was trying not to smile. "Yes, I do..." He looked at her again.

"Khushi, you are absolutely right."