Chapter 17.
Asad leaned back in his chair, watching while Anuj Saxena, Mary, Samar and Tony filed into his office. He had agreed to this meeting about Zoya only because Anuj had insisted that it was vitally necessary for the corporation's sake, in case she should decide to sue them.
Sue them for what, Asad thought bitterly. He wished to God he were somewhere else right now. Anywhere else. They were going to talk about her, and he was going to have to listen. She had been gone for a month, and he still hadn't been able to tear her out of his mind.
He kept expecting to look up and see her walking into his office, her shorthand notebook and pen in hand, ready to write down his instructions.
Last week he had been deeply engrossed in the corporation's new financial statement, and suddenly a woman in the reception room had laughed. It had sounded like Zoya's soft, musical laugh, and he had leaped out of his chair, telling himself that he intended to drag her into his office and warn her for the last time to stay away. But when he strode into the reception area and saw that it was some other woman, his heart had sunk.
He needed a rest, he told himself"some relaxation and the right sort of diversion. He had been pushing himself too hard, trying to drive her out of his thoughts by working until he was mentally and physically exhausted. All that was going to change now. In a few hours he was leaving for Malaysia to attend the international trade committee meeting" the meeting he had walked out on to go rushing after Zoya, and which had now been rescheduled so that the committee could conclude the business they'd been unable to resolve without his vote. On Sunday, three days from now, when the meeting adjourned, Tanu was joining him in Malaysia, and they were flying to Switzerland for three weeks. Three consecutive weeks of skiing during the day and partying at night should solve all his problems very nicely. Spending Christmas in Switzerland again, as he had three years ago, was also a vastly appealing idea.
Whom had he spent it with three years ago? He tried to remember. "Asad," Anuj Saxena said, "may I begin?"
"Yes," he said shortly, turning his head toward the windows. How long would it take before he could blot out the memory of Zoya weeping at his feet? "Please don't do this to us," she had sobbed. "I love you so much."
He rolled his gold pen idly between his fingertips, aware that Tony was watching him angrily, just waiting for the slightest opportunity to plead Zoya's defense.
Her defense, Asad thought sarcastically. What defense? Because Zoya was like his daughter, Tony was automatically biased in her favor. Because she was so heartbreakingly beautiful, Tony was blind to her treacherous nature. He couldn't blame Tony, because he himself had been just as blind, just as stupid. Zoya had captivated him, fascinated and enchanted him. From the very first, he had been enthralled by her, rendered senseless by his uncontrollable, fiery desire for her...
"I realize," Anuj Saxena was saying, "that Zoya Faaroqui is a very unpleasant topic to all of you, but the five of us in this room have all known each other for many years, and there's no reason we can't speak openly among ourselves, is there?"
When no one replied, Anuj sighed with frustration. "Well, she's a damned difficult subject for me to discuss too. The investigation on her was technically my responsibility, and I'm going to tell you now that it was done very poorly. The young man who handled the security check while I was in the hospital was inexperienced and overeager, and that's putting it politely. If I hadn't been back in the hospital twice since then, I'd have looked into this before.
"Now that I have," he continued doggedly, "I'll admit that I still can't figure the woman out"at least not completely. I've already talked to each of you separately. Now I'm hoping that by bringing all of us together we can resolve some of the contradictions that keep bothering me. Perhaps each of us has a part of the puzzle, and now we can fit them all together. Tony, for the time being I'm going to address myself only to Asad, Mary and Samar. I'd like you not to comment until the end."
Tony's black eyes narrowed with impatience, but he clamped his mouth shut and sat back on one of the green sofas.
"Now then," Anuj said, directing his attention to Asad, Samar and Mary. "All three of you have told me that you believe Zoya Faaroqui applied for a job here because she wanted to spy on us for Abbas Siddiqui. And all three of you have indicated that she was an extremely intelligent young woman with superior Typing and shorthand skills. Right?"
Mary and Samar said yes. Asad nodded curtly.
"Then the next question I would ask is, why would an intelligent, skilled secretary fail every single clerical test she was given and claim that she had never been to college when in fact she has a master's degree from a university, which tells us she's a gifted pianist?" When everyone remained silent, he continued, "And why would an intelligent, educated woman who wants a job so that she can spy, do one of the silliest damned things I've ever seen"write on her application under positions desired the jobs of president and personnel manager?"
Anuj looked around at the withdrawn expressions, of his audience. "The obvious answer is that she did not want to get the job. In fact, she did everything in her power to make certain she wouldn't be offered one, didn't she?" No one answered and he sighed, "As I understand it, she was on her way back to her car from the interview when she met Asad, who interceded on her behalf that same night. The next day Samar interviewed her, and in a complete about-face, Miss Faaroqui decided to work for AAK Corp and accepted Samar's job offer. Why?"
Samar leaned his head back against the sofa. "I've already told you and Asad what Zoya told me. She said she met Asad that night, and she accepted the job because she wanted to work near him. She said she thought he was an ordinary engineer who worked for Global."
"And you believed her?" Anuj asked.
"Why wouldn't I?" Samar sighed disgustedly. "I saw her crying when she found out who he really was. I'm the same idiot who also believed that Siddiqui was a relative of hers, and that even though he had asked her to spy on us, she wouldn't do it."
"Actually," Anuj said, his mouth twisting with grim amusement, "Siddiqui is her relative. I checked it out, and according to the Siddiqui family tree, which was traced about thirteen years ago and recorded in a book used mostly by society snobs, the Faaroqui's are seventh or eighth cousins of the Siddiqui's."
The uncontrollable spurt of joy that Asad experienced was instantly quashed. Cousins or not, Zoya was still his stepfather's mistress.
"I understand," Anuj said, massaging his temple as if he had a headache, "that Miss Faaroqui did not request to be assigned to you, Asad. In fact, I understand from Anand that she was adamantly opposed to the idea."
"She was," Asad gritted. He couldn't stand much more of this. Talking about her was twisting his gut into knots.
If she truly wanted to spy for Siddiqui," Anuj persisted, "why would she argue against being assigned to you, when working for you would have given her much better access to confidential information?"
Asad picked up a file on his desk and began reading it. "She didn't want to work for me because we'd quarreled about a personal matter." She didn't want to sleep with me, Asad added silently.
"That doesn't make sense," Anuj said firmly. "If you'd quarreled, she should have relished the opportunity to retaliate by coming up here and spying on you."
"Nothing about that girl makes sense," Mary said hesitantly. "When I told her about Asad's mother, she turned as white as a""
"I don't have the time for this!" Asad cut in curtly. "I'm leaving for Malaysia. Anuj, I can clear this up in a few sentences. Zoya Faaroqui came to AAK Corp to spy. She's Siddiqui's mistress. She is a consummate liar and a magnificent actress."
Tony opened his mouth to argue, and Asad said in a low, thunderous voice, "Don't defend her to me, dammit! She let me introduce her to my own mother and stepfather! She stood there letting me make an ass of myself by introducing her to her accomplices, one of whom is her lover! She betrayed all of us; not just me. She told Siddiqui about Rossi and had Siddiqui's people swarming all over Italy looking for him. She provided bidding information to Siddiqui that is going to cost AAK Corp a fortune in profits. She""
"She wasn't Siddiqui's mistress," Anuj interrupted when Tony leaped to his feet to protest. "I know that's what my investigator told you, but the truth is that, although Siddiqui does own the apartment, he only visited her there once, on the night she arrived, for perhaps thirty minutes."
"My stepfather's age must be impairing his""
"You stop talking about Zoya like this!" Tony spat out furiously. "I""
"Save your breath, Tony," Asad snapped.
"I got plenty of breath to spare, and now I'm going to have my say! Joe and I heard what Siddiqui said to her the day they had lunch at my place. Zoya told him right off that you and her were getting married, and she told him that she was going to tell you she was related to him. As soon as she said that, Siddiqui started talking about how you might think she was his mistress and that you might think she told him about this Italy. Zoya got upset and told him she didn't say nothing about Italy, and she wasn't his mistress. Then she asked him right out if he was trying to blackmail her. He said he was bargaining with her. He said he'd keep quiet if she would give him information""
"Which she did," Asad snapped. "Within an hour! She did it because she intended to keep right on lying to me until Siddiqui finally put us out of business."
"No!" Tony shouted. "She told him she would die before she'd do anything to hurt you. She""
Asad's hand slammed down on the desk as he surged to his feet. "She's a treacherous woman and she's a liar. That's all I need to know. Now all of you get out of here!"
"I'm going!" Tony almost shouted, stomping across the office. "But there's one more thing you need to know. What you did to her hurt her worse than I've ever seen anybody hurt. You threw her out with no coat, no money, no nothing, and does she call Siddiqui? No, she walks eight blocks in the cold and rain to collapse in my arms. So I'm tellin' you now"" Tony drew himself up to his most impressive height and slapped his hat on his head ""from now on you're off my list, Asad. If you wanna eat in my restaurant, you better bring Zoya with you!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Mr. Khan." The secretary in Malaysia bent down beside Asad, her voice lowered to a whisper to avoid disturbing the seven other major Global industrialists seated around the conference table discussing the final details of an international trade agreement. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there's a Mr. Samar Malik on the phone for you..."
Asad nodded and slid his chair back. Seven men glanced up and looked at him with irritated accusation. Except in matters of extreme emergency, none of them was taking calls. During the last meeting and now this one, only Asad had received an urgent call, and the last time the meeting had to be aborted and rescheduled because he had abruptly walked out on them.
Asad strode from the conference room, gripped by the memory of the last time Samar's call had interrupted him in this meeting. That time Samar had fabricated some silly damned excuse for calling, so that he could say that Zoya had resigned. "Yes, what is it?" Asad said, angry at the memory of her, angry at the pain that thinking of her always evoked.
"There's quite a celebration going on over in the engineering department," Samar began, his voice hesitant and confused. "Asad, even though Zoya gave Siddiqui copies of our four bids, we have just been awarded two of the four contracts. The low bidders on the other two contracts still haven't been announced." He paused, evidently waiting for Asad to answer. "I can't figure it out"what do you think?"
"I think," Asad snarled, "that the stupid bas***d isn't smart enough to win a poker hand with a deck of marked cards."
"Siddiqui is conniving and wily and anything but stupid," Samar argued. "I think I'll get the file from Anuj Saxena in security and go over the figures that Zoya""
"I told you what I wanted you to do," Asad interrupted in a low, deadly voice. "Regardless of who gets the remaining two contracts, I want AAK Corp to bid on every job that Siddiqui bids on, and I want you to bid it below our cost if necessary. I want that bas***d out of business in one year!"
Asad slammed the phone down and stalked back into the conference room. The chairman looked at him with ill-concealed reproof for the interruption. "Now, may we resume?"
Asad nodded curtly. He voted carefully on the next three issues, but as the morning drifted into afternoon, and afternoon darkened into early evening, it became more and more impossible to think of anything but Zoya. He looked outside the windows of the skyscraper as the meeting continued, and Tony's outraged voice played through his mind... "You threw her out with no coat, no money, no nothing, and does she call Siddiqui? No! She walks eight blocks in the cold and rain, to collapse in my arms."
Eight blocks! Why hadn't the guards let her stop to get her sweater? He remembered the thin blouse she'd been wearing, because he had unbuttoned it himself with every intention of exposing and degrading her, exactly as he had. He remembered the sheer perfection of her creamy breasts; the incredible silkiness of her skin; the exquisite taste of her lips; the way she had kissed him and held him to her...
"Asad," the chairman said sharply, "I assume you are in favor of this proposal?"
Asad dragged his gaze from the windows. He had no idea what proposal was being discussed. "I'd like to hear more about it before I decide," he prevaricated.
Seven surprised faces turned toward him. "It's your proposal, Asad," the chairman scowled. "You wrote it."
"Then naturally I'm in favor of it," he informed them coolly.
The committee dined as a group in one of Malaysia's most elegant restaurants. The moment their meal was over, Asad abruptly excused himself to return to his hotel. He walked down the street glancing disinterestedly into exclusive shops whose brightly lit windows were decorated for Christmas.
He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, mentally cursing Samar for calling him this morning about Zoya, and cursing Zoya for walking into his life. Why hadn't she called Siddiqui to come and get her when the guards forcibly removed her from the Global building? Why in God's name had she walked eight blocks in freezing weather to go to Tony?
After he had hurt and degraded her, why had she wept like a heartbroken angel? Asad paused to take a cigarette out of his pack and put it in his mouth. Bending his head, he cupped his hands over the flame and lit it. Zoya's voice drifted through his mind, choked with racking sobs. "I love you so much," she had wept. "Please listen to me... Please don't do this to us..."
Fury and pain blazed through him. He could not take Zoya back, he reminded himself forcefully. He would never take her back.
He was willing to believe that Siddiqui had blackmailed her into giving him the bids. He was even willing to believe that Zoya hadn't told Siddiqui about the Rossi project. After all, if she had, Siddiqui's men wouldn't have been swarming all over the village asking questions about Asad's activities"they'd have been asking about Rossi. Apparently they didn't even know the chemist's name. Even if they found out, it wouldn't matter. The lab tests had proved Rossi's formula to be only a fraction as effective as he'd claimed it was, besides being a skin and eye irritant.
Asad stopped at the light on the corner, where a man in a bright red Santa Claus costume was standing beside a black iron pot and ringing a bell. Christmas had never been particularly pleasant to Asad. It was a holiday that invariably called to mind the visit he had paid to his mother as a boy; in fact, he never thought of her except at Christmas time.
Cars glided past him, their tires crunching in the fresh snow. This Christmas could have been different; it could have been a beginning. He would have taken Zoya to Switzerland. No"he would have spent it at home with her. He would have built a roaring fire in the fireplace, and they could have started their own traditions. He would have made love to her in front of the fire, with the lights from the Christmas tree glowing on her satin skin...
Asad angrily jerked his mind away from those thoughts and stalked across the street, ignoring the horns that blared their protest and the headlights flying toward him. There would be no Christmases with Zoya. He wanted her badly enough to forgive her for almost anything, but he could not, would not, forgive or forget the fact that she had betrayed him to his mother and stepfather. Perhaps in time he could have forgiven her for conspiring against him, but not with the Siddiquis. Never with them.
Asad inserted his key into the double doors of his penthouse suite. "Where the hell have you been?" Samar Malik demanded from the sofa where he was lounging with his feet propped on an antique coffee table. "I've come to talk about the bids Zoya gave Siddiqui."
Asad jerked off his coat, furious at having his suite invaded, his privacy infringed upon and particularly at being forced"even for the moment it was going to take to get Samar out of here"to talk about Zoya again. "I told you," he said in a low, deadly voice, "that I wanted Siddiqui out of business and I told you how I wanted it done. When you explained your part in Zoya's complicity, I excused it, but I will not""
"You don't have to put Siddiqui out of business," Samar interrupted quietly as Asad stalked toward him. "Zoya is doing it for you." From the sofa beside him, Samar picked up copies of the original bids and the altered copies that Zoya had made to give Siddiqui. "She changed the figures, Asad," he said somberly.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The meeting of the committee on international trade started at precisely nine o'clock the following morning. The chairman of the committee looked at the six men seated around the conference table. "Asad Ahmad Khan will not be present today," he informed the thunderous-looking group. "He asked me to express his regrets and to explain that he was called away on an urgent matter."
In unison, six outraged faces turned to glare with impotent hostility at the vacant chair of their missing member. "Last time it was a labor relations problem. What the hell is Khan's problem this time?" a jowly man demanded unsympathetically.
"A merger," the chairman answered. "He said he is going to try to negotiate the most important merger of his life."
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