Toxic ~ Even if we can't be together in the end - Chapter 23 Up ! - Page 22

Originally posted by: sezo

thanks for pm as always.
It was nice to read what he thinks, Adi is so unpredictable.
I loved how you explained emotions from buying shampoo.

I cant wait for there first encounter. How will she react.

Please update sooner if possible.

Awesome. Please PM when you update. Am sending you a buddy request. Thanks

Waiting for Part 12 😊

Originally posted by: Aquabutterfly

Just five words for you...YOU ARE AN AMAZING WRITER ⭐️

The way you describe characters' emotions is commendable.

As a reader I felt every emotion and imagined every scenario you beautifully explained in detail. 👏

My addiction with this story is TOXIC 😉 but I'm loving it ❤️

Keep writing because there's always me who's waiting to read.

Coming to the story...

I love how Aditya is shown to be a carefree guy who has a side that remains unrevealed.

Aditya and Zoya are becoming a mystery for me

I would love to see what more this story has to offer

Please do continue soon

I wish I knew how to quit you

Aditya's POV

Let me tell you something you already know - pretty people get the best deals in life, from job to love. Why does the quarterback always hook up with the head cheerleader ? Yeah. Don't like it, does matter - it's the truth. What they say about truth being bitter as yuck. Moving on from petty school politics, the situation doesn't vary much in the boardroom. I know you think I am messing with you. Believe me, I am not. According to some research - yes people we are talking science here - 'attractive' personnel perform better at the negotiating table, and are more likely to land good deals.

Mirror, mirror on the wall ...

Beauty is a privilege - a powerful one, and anybody denying that hasn't understood nature very well. Flowers are beautiful to attract bees and deers have beautiful antlers to find their mates. Tell me this - if you compare two people of equal competence, wouldn't the prettier one have a better chance ?

You want to spill your drink in my face and scream that you want to be judged on your work and not your looks ? That's fine for La-La land honey, but this is the real world. Banker or gangbanger, we're all judged on how we look. And if you look sloppy, people will think everything you do is sloppy. But, if you look impeccable, they'd give you the benefit of doubt that your work would be impeccable too.

You think I am a vain petty bas***d who looks down at everything in contempt ? Okay, tell me this - Is it a sign of weakness or frivolity to care about looking good ? Absolutely not as long as you are busting your ass at work too. Which I do - every damn day. But let me make one thing very clear, if you believe that cake on your face and those fake eyelashes can ride you to your next promotion ? I almost pity you ... you naive stupid girl.

It's not about being the next Top Model - it's about understanding the nuances of appearance psychology and how they can be a weapon in your professional arsenal.

That's depressing, isn't it? Unfair and unjust ! But ... also true.

Beauty is not superficial - it's hard-wired in our subconsciousness. It is of utmost importance but you know what matters even more in my job ?

Charisma.

Charisma is a magic potion of people skills, intelligence and ... you guessed it right beauty. Charisma doesn't just work on people who find you attractive. It can make random strangers your best friend and open doors where there were none before. Someone who's extremely charismatic could probably convince you that dipping your fingers into water couldn't possibly ever make them wet.

Charisma is something that comes naturally. You need to find a hook - a hook to get the other person's attention. Beautiful people (including handsome men like me) catch others' attention by being looked at!

I can give excuses about being under mountain load of work which I am, not having enough time which I don't, not giving a crap since I am the to-be CEO, six pack abs or beer belly. But, I don't. I make time for a workout. Yup, I am perfect like that. Washboard abs, six foot height, ropey arms, lean frame, bank account with more zeros than your phone number.

Don't think I am the most eligible bachelor - you will. Just wait. I am irresistible. How long will you pretend to dislike this delicious ass ?

My sneakers slap the sidewalk as I continue to run-picking up my pace, pushing myself until sweat soaks my T-shirt and dampens the strands of my dark hair. I'm a big believer in sweat-it's good for the body and soul. Forget yoga, zumba or pilates, if you want to look and feel good ? Work up a hard, real sweat once a day-doesn't matter if it's from running, sweeping, or screwing. Though screwing is my preference. But, you already knew that.

I finish my five mile run and walk the last mile to cool down, stretch my hamstrings, and wipe the sweat from my forehead with the bottom of my T-shirt. And then, I walk through the door of Sharma Snacks. This place is never empty-besides the poha being awesome, it's where the old guys shoot shit all day and the young guys come to hide from their wives. I grab a bottle of water from the cooler, next to a table filled with locals.

"Aditya !"

"Good Morning Sir" I turn around and mock salute. I sit down and join the two Commissioners on their table. Shobha and Manohar are like siblings - they bicker all day about everything but always have each others back. Shobha fills me in on the latest happenings around town - who's having babies, who's getting divorced.

I swallow a gulp of water from the bottle "How is the kiddo ?" I ask Manohar. The old man's twenty year old son was diagnosed with dengue recently. In legal terms - he is a liability, always was. He has been sick for most of the twenty years spent on this planet and slowly - one hundred at a time - sucked all of Manohar's savings. His wife runs a grocery shop and passing judgments isn't exactly a lottery. Manohar and my mother were classmates and when my dear sweet mother got wind of the situation, she pitched in generously to the community fund to help the kid.

Manohar smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes "He has seen better days" he sighs and his shoulders droop.

Let's put things on hold for a minute here, okay? So I can give you the full picture.

See, my mother, Anjana was born in Aloha. The small town has its charm but sometimes it can be too quiet. Putting it bluntly - damn boring. So, why did we settle here and not in Delhi or Mumbai ? Because it is quiet and damn boring. Yeah, I do realize the irony of it.

My father hails from Delhi but decided to set roots in Aloha after marrying my Mom - best decision of his life. Ever. I never felt trapped by Aloha - like many small towners do. My mom had, once upon a time, trekked from Ladakh to Mansarovar Lake. She always encouraged me to get out there, see the world, make our own nest, get to know the birds on other branches ... and to fly.

Also, work takes me out of town or continent half the time. And who wants to be caught in the razzle dazzle of those high society circles of a big city ? Certainly I don't - I get my fair share of attention - sometimes more than I want - without having to trot with wannabe models and gold diggers.

Coming back to the point. Do you remember Commissioner Manohar and Shobha ? Yup, the same ones from the hearing. Kunal Ahluwalia, Aztec Group's lawyer was a piece of crap - the guy had too much arrogance to know when to back away. But, Aztec Group never stood a chance against me even if they had the world's best lawyer on their side. Especially not in Aloha.

Why ?

Because it's not what you know but who you know. This is even more truer in a small town where everyone knows everyone by name, by children, by dogs and by favourite food. I am serious ! When I was young it was a pain in the arse. My stupid young seventeen year old self thought that kissing Neena on the old rickety bridge was a good idea. Mittal Uncle saw us - why a thousand year old senile fossil was wandering at midnight is beyond me but he saw us - and in the morning everyone knew about my little excursion. My right cheek can still stings from Mom's tight slap the next day. God, was she mad !

As I was telling you - no or very few secrets exist. But now at thirty, I appreciate the community comradery. It's nice to walk down the street and see people who you have grown up with and know their back stories. You either love it or hate it. Those who don't like this community move away. The rest of us wouldn't live anywhere else.

"Have a good day guys" I tap the table and head over to pay my bill. Mrs. Sharma hands me my samosas and my change. With my sack of carbs tucked under my arm, I walk down Fulton Road and cut through Shanti Park, which takes me to Kushkundar Lake, around the bend from my house. I pause for a minute to appreciate the wonder that is Kushsundar Lake. It is stunning in the morning, still as glass, shining like a pool of orange light.

What had that pea-brained Kunal accused me of at the hearing ...

"The farmers oppose our development because they want it to be built by someone approved by themselves. Aditya Hooda is not an environment lover, quite opposite if I may say"

I meant every word when I declared to the Commissioners that I would sue left, right and center if Aztec was awarded the contract. Yes, Meridian Corp wants to build a golf course and hotel in Aloha - who wouldn't ? The town is a strategic paradise when it comes to location and natural beauty - see we are talking beauty again - hills, serpentine roads, lake. There is one difference between Aztec and Meridian when it comes to Aloha - it is our home. My Dad is an opportunistic bas***d, I admit. Hell, even I am one. But, we won't ravage the very town we live in for some extra money in our accounts. But Aztec will. No doubt.

"We take the preservation of Kushsundar Lake very seriously, Commissioner. You bet we'd sue the district, as well as the developer and every applicable landowner, should the lake be threatened."

I pass the samosas to my Mom and kiss on her cheek-because I am a good son like that. She takes the oily package and hands me a green, grainy smoothie. I take a deep breath, hold it and inhale the green goo in a few gulps. Then I burp nastily and my stomach groans.

Mom sets a tall glass of water in front of me, her expression amused.

"I hate you" I whisper.

Gone are the days when I could eat pints of ice cream every day and still look lean. At thirty, I have learned to embrace a gluten-, dairy - and flavour-free existence in the land of samosa, jalebi and kachori.

Oh the samosas ? They were for Mummy dearest. She has a god given metabolism where nothing affects her figure. Sadly, she didn't pass me down this wonderful genetic gift - I need to sweat out every inch and every ab. I am jealous - this is so unfair !!

"No you don't" she laughs, putting away the glass in the sink. " So what's your plan now?"

I frown "What plan ?"

"What are your plans for Zoya?" she asks again - slowly - like I was dumb.

"Let's not talk about her now"

"Okay not now, then when?"

"Never ?" I offer.

She gets my point but blows it off "Are you hungry ?" she asks

"Starved"

She waltzes over with a platter of scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice. A smaller bowl of granola and milk follows. "Adi, there is something going on inside your stupid head - I just know. Spill it out"

She's right - there is something going on inside my head. Stupid head. Have you ever read The Art of War by Sun Tzu ? It's a book about military strategy. A good general knows when to attack. A great general knows when to pull back - to regroup. The night in the library with Zoya rattled me more than I let on. So, I retracted - and went to Washington for one week to oversee the closure of Meridian's latest acquisition. I could have controlled the scene without hauling my ass all the way to United States but I wanted to break away and clear my head. And clear my head I did.

Unperturbed by my lack of reaction she continues " I have to ask you Adi - are you sure ? Are you absolutely positive that Zoya is the one for you ? You need to be certain Adi. It's wrong to toy with someone's feelings, you don't need me to tell you that"

Why am I not surprised. Evil Qureshi always had a way with my Mom.

I pick my fork and stab the eggs "You do remember that she dumped me. She, not me"

"You were very young then. Things happen, life happens. I don't know why you two went different ways but remember - this time there will be consequences. Their is only so much you can grovel and make things right"

"Grovel ?" I laugh with my mouth full "If anyone is going to grovel, it's gonna be her. You can count on it"

"Why did she storm the party looking like she could eat a baby sea turtle? What were you two doing in the study room ?"

I take a bite of granola and smile devilishly "Believe me you would rather not know. Ignorance is bliss"

She glares.

"God, Mom. You make me sound like some villain. I am not planning her murder if that is what you are concerned about. And anyways whose side are you on ? I am your son - you should be worried about me."

"I will always be on your side Adi. Even if your side is the wrong side. But, that doesn't mean I won't try to stop you from doing something you would regret later"

I look over my shoulder while walking towards my room." And this is my cue to leave. Thanks for the vote of confidence mother dearest"

"Adiii !" I hear her frustrated groan.

After two hours...

I stroll into the office, relaxed. My body is buzzing with anticipation. The good kind. The reason ? You'll know in a minute. My secretary Mrs. Gupta hands me the keys to the kingdom - a blue folder.

"Welcome back Sir. And congratulations ! " Mrs Gupta greets me, smiling. She looks like my grandmother - hell she looks like everyone's grandmother. But, don't let her age fool you, she is simply ... awesome. Believe it or not, a good secretary - a really good one - is hard to find. I talk from experience - I've had girls work for me who were dumber than a whole bucket of dirt. I've had others who thought they could make it by just working on their backs, if you know what I mean.

"It's Aditya for the millionth time" I roll my eyes, smiling. I grab the best damn cup of espresso in whole Aloha, she has ready for me. Told you she was awesome. I get to my cabin, place the coffee on the heavy oak desk and I flip through the folder.

I was never a gymnast, but I have always enjoyed watching the sport. The way athletes fly through the air, the immense control, the way they make it look effortless and so damn natural. All the routines are amazing but every once in a while, there's one that really stands out. It's solid. Clean. No wobbling, no adjustments, no almost tripping. And in these almost perfect routines the gymnast always sticks the landing. That's how it felt to acquire Urbanfeat, the e-commerce website based in Washington DC. Like two feet planted firmly on the ground. Confident. Sure. A slam dunk.

All deals don't always feel this way. I do extensive research - like months and months of pouring over every financial record type of research - but there's always this worry that it won't be profitable. Is the company too much in debt ? Will it align with Meridian's interests seamlessly? Will the break even happen before the board begins asking questions ? After negotiations and audits, more negotiations and more audits, these worries quiet down - at least for some time. But right from the beginning, Urbanfeat felt different. I can't remember being more excited to acquire a company and merge it with Meridian. This is going to be our gamechanger.

My gloating is interrupted by sudden sharp rap on the door. I check the time - ten minutes since I arrived in my cabin. I was betting she would wait for at least thirty. Somebody is getting impatient. I grin like the scoundrel I am.

"Come in"

She's wearing glasses. The dark rimmed kind. They would be nerdy-looking and unattractive on most women. But not her. On the bridge of that tiny nose, framing those long lashed beauties, with her hair twisted in a high knot with delicate, curling strands brushing her neck, they are nothing short of full-out sexy. Her look falls in the sweet spot between bed-rolling wild chick and the refined no nonsense office beauty.

As she starts to speak my mind is suddenly filled with every hot-teacher fantasy I've ever had. They're playing out in my mind right next to the ones about the seemingly sexually repressed librarian who prances around in her tight pencil skirt, unpins her bun and throws her glasses off to reveal a goddess in waiting.

While all this is going on in my head, she's still talking.

What the heck is she saying ?

I close my eyes to stop myself from staring at those glistening lips, so I can actually process the words coming out of her mouth " dhan Hooda said you could help me with it" She stops and looks at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry, I was distracted. You want to sit down and run that by me again?" I ask, my voice never betraying the horniness inside me. At least I hope it is not.

She sits in the chair across from my desk and crosses her legs.

Don't look at the legs. Don't look at the legs.

Too late.

They're toned and smooth looking as silk. I whack my horny mind and force my eyes to hers.

"So" she begins again, clearly irritated "I've been trying to work on the design for the past one week. Trying being the keyword here. I need inputs Aditya - I can't design the whole thing by myself. You need to tell me what do you want ?"

What do I want ? I want to bend you on this desk, spread your legs ...

I know. I know. I just can't help myself.

Once again, to the ladies out there - here's some scientific fact for you : Men pretty much have sex on their brain twenty-four-seven. The exact figure is like every 5.2 seconds or some shit like that.

Did I hear an arrogant snort and huff ?

The hypocrisy of it.

Yes, men get easily turned on. Yes, it is easy to lure us to bed, compared to the elaborate tantrums of women My senses need to be aroused' I need to be emotionally involved' Oh no, there is too much light' this bed doesn't look right' the timing needs to be perfect for me' Goddamnit ! Yes, we don't let go of an opportunity that involves getting some action. Sue us!

But, have women ever thought how it would be if we were exactly like you? Not a single child would be conceived, because we would just cuddle, all the damn time. Things wouldn't progress in the bedroom, ever ! Is that what you want ? If only we were like you, the first kiss would take a trillion dates to fructify. You can only imagine the strides human race would make in such a scenario. We do you a favour, a BIG one at that by being the way we are. So stop complaining.

"I understand your concerns" I lie and look down at the papers on my desk to stem the flow of indecent images the sound of her voice calls forth from my deviant mind.

She stands and leans over my desk to pass me a folder. I'm assailed with a sweet but flowery scent. It's delectable. Alluring. I have an urge to sink my face into her hair and inhale deeply.

I'm going to hell, aren't I ?

I can't help it.

When we were young, Zoya was your basic overachiever, type-A, academic club brainiac and funny as hell. But, looking at her now, there's a ferociousness about her that's new. She's not a girl anymore - she's fierce, strong, independent woman. I can't wait to discover how she would react when we finally have sex. And we will. It's inevitable. Will she moan for more while I pound into her rough and hard against the wall or will she want the champagne and roses ?

Resisting my basic instincts, I call upon the professional in me to open the Powerpoint presentation.

And close it after a minute.

My voice is flat and rehearsed like a robot "You know what - I am too busy for this stuff. I will tell Mrs Gupta what I expect and you can take it from there"

I know it's a cheapshot. I am purposefully making it difficult for her but ... I feel so much better when I get a rise out of her. I know what has her tied up in knots - my purposeful ignorance. She had been sending me emails relentlessly for the past one week asking me for approvals and suggestions but I didn't revert to a single one. It would have taken under a minute to respond - she had done the groundwork and was asking for mainly a get go - but I didn't. Why ? Because I already had the design done and finalized. I was just making her bust her ass for nothing. Told you it's a cheapshot.

"Aditya I am trying to be reasonable. Please don't be difficult. Please"

"Begging suits you. Throw in a shoulder rub and I might ... might be inclined to help you, sunshine"

Her eyes narrow at my clearly sexual comment. The truth is I would never demand anything that resembled a sexual favour in exchange for something work-related. I'm a lot of things. A bottom-feeding predator isn't one of them. But this comment could definitely be construed as flat-out sexual harassment. I'm walking a tightrope here. Even though the possibility exists, I'm 99 percent sure that Zoya won't rat me out to anyone.

"I'm not your sunshine. We are at work and it's derogatory. My name is Zoya. Use it."

"There is nothing derogatory about sunshine. It's a term of endearment"

"It's demeaning !"

"It's admiring"

Her eyes flare, close the next instant and she releases a long breath "You do realise that we are talking about your golf course and your damn hotel. Yours !!"

I think on it a moment, playing with her head, letting her know just by the look in my eyes that I'm considering her statement but don't care enough. She rambles on about how this project is important for Wave Designs and she needs to keep her superiors posted about the progress she is making. Which is null. Zero. Nada. All thanks to my disappearing act and unwillingness to reply to her emails or revert her calls.

I just smile like the patient man I am.

She braces one hand on her hip, the other stabs the air in front of her "You know what ... busy or no busy, you better move your ass and tell me what I want or I'll make your life hell"

"As opposed to the delight you're making it right now"

I am curious about one thing though "What about Arjun? Is he helping you on this project ? Afterall you were just an assistant a week ago"

The tone is edgy as she tells me "No, he refused. Sent me an email saying that I need to do this one on my own"

I grin "Good"

She throws up her hands, her cheeks are flushed and she's got murder in her eyes "You are driving me crazy"

I smirk "Crazy ? Like you want to rip my shirt open ?"

"No. Crazy like the itch of yeast infection that just won't go away"

I flinch. Can't help it.

Zoya get ups from her chair steps towards my desk "I am serious Aditya.I am trying to work and I can't do it unless you tell me what I need to work on !"

"I am serious too Zoya. I will tell you when I damn well please"

I am still distracted by Zoya's disheveled hair. I imagine running my hands through its soft waves, then wrapping it around my fingers for a tug while I'm buried deep inside her. But, my twisted fantasies are disrupted by a soft chime from my phone - it's an email. One I had been waiting for. I scan the contents without reading anything in detail.

Have you ever been kicked in the stomach by a horse? Me neither. But now I know what it feels like.

I feel my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. But I shake it off and do my best to retain my Aditya Hooda facade.

She takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her cute little nose "I know you still have this thing for me, but I -"

Wait a goddamn minute. Let's back the f**k up, shall we?

"I still have a thing for you? I'm sorry, was it me gasping and moaning in the study room a week back? Because I remember it the other way around"

Zoya makes her way around my desk, and I stand up to meet her.

And now she's pissed "You're so selfish, self centered, egoistical ..."

"Narcissistic" I add "lovable, attractive, brilliant"

She hits me on the chest with both fists

Whack.

"I wish I'd never received an admit from New York University"

Whack.

"I wish I had never kissed you to make Amay jealous"

Whack.

"I wish I never met you !"

I grip her wrists and pull her close.We are lip-to-lip.Now here's when I would have kissed her. But, not now. Not gonna happen. Because this isn't about me and my raging hard-on. Not anymore. So I hold back. But don't think it's easy, because it's not. There's nothing I want more than to mold my mouth to hers and remind her how good it can be between us. I lean in and rest my forehead against hers. She closes her eyes. I brush my nose against hers and inhale, needing a fix.

And then I whisper "I wish you tell me the truth. Tell me where the hell you have been for so many years"

Zoya opens her eyes. There's surprise in those brown beauties. And fear, like a deer that just caught a hunter's scent. She clears her throat trying to pull it together. "I will be in touch with Mrs Gupta"

She takes a step back but I am faster. I close my hands around her waist and draw her in. "Oh no you don't"

I pull up the private investigator's email and all but slam my phone screen in her face.

Thanks for pm as always.

thanks for updating n pm

You have a very unique writing style and it makes an interesting read.

And you write the sassy, unapologetic Adi so well - as though, its you! Amazing work there!

The story is going good and love the control you have on it! Looking to read more of ur work.

Loved the part. It's so intriguing. So want to know what Zoya has been up.

Needless to say love all your updates amd eagerly wait for them. Read this one at 4am in morning..you've got us hooked.. I just love this Aditya..very strong character..and narration from his POV is amazing.. and whats in that email.. I will die speculating.. ha ha.. great work Harsha.. as always..