1
Our story as I remember it, begins in a bar, just a block away from where I lived. She was a waitress, who was struggling just to support herself. When she came to take my order, it was like a shock hit me. I didn't know why I wasn't able to keep my eyes off her. She was pretty, but she wasn't a beauty queen. I only concluded that it was her simplicity that made me look at her.
"Hi, my name is Sarah. May I take your order?" she asked me cheerfully.
I was sitting there by myself, expecting a guest who was already twenty minutes late.
"Sarah?" I asked her, raising my eyebrows. "You look too Indian to be named Sarah."
She looked at me with a bewildered expression, almost as if I was crossing my limits to be commenting on her name, but I was someone who often spoke my mind and for some reason, the name Sarah didn't seem to be right.
"May I take your order?" she repeated, and it was almost as if she was forcing herself to be polite.
"I'm waiting for someone, but for now, just bring me a beer," I told her. "Corona."
"Alright sir," she said, nodding her head, as she wrote it down in a little notebook.
As she disappeared, I couldn't help but admire her figure. I snapped myself out of it, reminding myself that I had a date coming in soon. I couldn't just ignore my date with the daughter of my father's business partner for a simple waitress.
Soon, Sarah returned and brought me the Corona. As she put a glass out and opened the bottle for me, I watched her hands act skillfully with admiration. She poured some of the beer in the glass before setting both the bottle and the glass on the table.
"Enjoy," she told me calmly, "Flag me down if you need anything else."
As she was about to leave, I reached out and caught her hand. I didn't even know why I did it. I wasn't the type to cheaply hit on girls. Yes, I had my fair share of girls, but everything I did was done with class.
Her hand was soft, and for some reason there was a jolt of electricity that ran up my spine when I touched her.
"Excuse me?" Sarah asked, sounding angry.
When her nostrils flared and her hazel brown eyes widened, she looked all the more beautiful. Her hair which was up in a bun, had a few strands that had fallen loosely around her face.
Any girl could have that look, then why did I find a simple girl like her appealing all of a sudden?
"Sorry," I replied, and let go of her hand. "I wanted to ask you if you could bring me an extra napkin."
It was an excuse. I was too embarrassed about unintentionally holding her hand, so I was trying to cover it up.
She gave a firm nod before disappearing again. I nearly let my face fall on top of the table for how bad I was behaving today. The worst part was that I didn't even have a sip of alcohol yet.
Sarah brought a few napkins and placed them on the table before disappearing without saying another word to me. Perhaps I had scared her.
I decided to ignore Sarah and wait for my date. After all, Sarah was not that appealing. The girl who was going to show up was more my type. I waited for nearly an hour for my date, but she didn't show up. I even texted her, but she didn't reply to my text.
"Excuse me sir," I heard a familiar voice say, and I looked up into Sarah's hazel eyes. "We're going to close in about an hour. Would you like to order anything?"
I felt terrible. I got stood up by my date and I was embarrassed to even face anyone. What good would ordering anything do now?
"Sure. I'll get your best pasta," I replied coolly. "And... if you think I can afford it, I would like to order some of your time too. Will you have a meal with me?"
2
I knew that I was probably going to be rejected. She didn't seem like the kind of girl who would easily listen to someone like me, but I couldn't help it... I really wanted to try, and it was for reasons that I couldn't even make sense of.
"I'll bring you your pasta," she said curtly, before turning around and disappearing, ignoring my proposal.
I took out my phone and glared at it, starting to get frustrated by the situation. Why did her dismissal affect me so much and why was I even wasting my time here?
Suddenly a call came through. Ishika. She was the daughter of my father's business partner who was supposed to be here nearly two hours ago.
"Hello?" I asked into the phone, almost doubting that it really was her.
"Randhir I am so sorry. Something came up and my phone died... I was only able to charge it now!" she said into the phone. "Let's make it up okay?"
"What came up?" I asked.
If our father's planned to get us engaged then surely I had the right to ask that question.
"Oh it's just that my friend needed me urgently," Ishika replied, sounding upset. "She broke up with her boyfriend so I had to see her. Sorry Randhir."
"It's fine. I'll talk to you later," I told her abruptly and then ended the call.
Why did I feel like such a loser today? I got girls easily. Yet, I was here waiting for one girl who acted like my time was not important, and the other girl who was conveniently ignoring me without even knowing who I was.
Finally Sarah brought the pasta and I looked up at her.
"I want the bill," I stated, almost furiously.
"Oh already? Of course!" she told me, and I didn't know if it was a sense of relief that I heard in her voice.
As Sarah ran to get the bill, I balled my hands into fists at the thought of Ishika. I needed to distract myself, but how? I glanced up at Sarah's face as she placed the bill on the table in front of me.
I took out cash from my wallet and put down four times what the meal cost.
"Thank you," I said, and stood up, about to leave, leaving the pasta unattended as Sarah looked confused.
"No problem," she said with a shrug as she began to clean up the table.
"I'll wait for you outside. When you're done here, meet me," I then told her, causing her to look up with an alarmed expression.
"What?" she asked, sounding offended.
"You heard me," I replied coolly, deciding that she was going to be my distraction. "I'll see you outside."
"Don't you dare think about it!" she responded, sounding scared. "I won't come outside if you're standing there."
"We'll see about that," I replied with a smirk.
"No! Look, I tolerated you up until now, but not anymore," she argued, "I will file a complaint if you continue!"
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. Just come outside and meet me," I told her, then before she could say another word, I walked outside, secretly enjoying this.
If she chose to react in a way that caused me amusement, then I would choose to do more to get a reaction out of her as well.
She was the perfect distraction.
3
(Story is now changed to third person from Randhir's POV, it is easier for me to write it this way)
Rejection was not something he was used to, and tonight he was rejected not by one girl, but by two. When the waitress didn't come and meet him after her shift, he went back to the restaurant to see where she went, but the restaurant had already closed for the night. He guessed that there had been a back door she would have escaped from.
Nevertheless, he knew that he was not going to let this slide - after all, she was a mere waitress and he was a man with a lot of money. Eventually, she would have to come to him if he willed that.
However, all thoughts of the girl disappeared from his mind over the next few days because Shekhawat Industries got a huge deal that his father required him to work on.
Although he didn't enjoy working, he did work hard towards the business because it was always expected of him. His father would soon pass it on to him officially, but before that he needed to prove to his father that he was capable. For the most part, Randhir was already unofficially overseeing it.
Two weeks after he met the waitress at the restaurant, he was holding interviews for his new secretary position. Randhir was infamous for firing his secretaries every few weeks, because he just couldn't put up with the work they did. Perhaps it was an obsessive compulsion disorder, but he needed everything to be perfect, especially if it was someone else who was in the picture managing his work.
One after one, both males and females of all ages came in for an interview, but Randhir didn't like any of them. It was only when an unexpected guest came into his office like a storm, that he finally broke out into a smile.
"So you did find me after all," Randhir told her, his eyes boring into hers deeply, as she looked shocked to see him.
"You are Randhir Singh Shekhawat?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Son of Harsh Shekhawat? Soon to be heir of Shekhawat Industries?"
Randhir chuckled and folded his hands together on top of his desk.
"That's a lot of questions in one breath. Sit down and I'll ask you the questions. After all, you're the one who came for an interview... not me," Randhir told her with a smirk.
The waitress from a couple of weeks ago then took a seat in front of him and placed forth her resume.
"Sarah Agarwal," he said, glancing at her name. "Do you have identification?"
"What?" she asked, sounding offended, "Am I at a police station that I need identification?"
"This is not just any company Miss Agarwal. This is Shekhawat Industries. We don't fool around here. If you want to be considered at all, cooperate and show me your identification," Randhir stated explicitly, his tone completely serious.
"Fine," she said, through gritted teeth, as if she was holding back a swear.
Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a wallet. Out of the wallet, she pulled out a driver's license and slid it towards him.
"Sanyukta Agarwal?" he read out loud. "So your name is not Sarah."
Randhir smirked. His hunch had been right.
"Can we get on to the interview?" she asked impatiently.
"This is the interview," he replied coolly, "Why are you telling people your name is Sarah?"
"That's none of your concern," she hissed, "Ask me about my experience."
Randhir sighed and leaned back in his chair. This girl did not have even an ounce of interview etiquette.
"You don't tell an interviewer what to ask Miss Agarwal," he told her. "I decide the questions. Not you."
"Fine! I changed it because I don't want to be known here. I shouldn't be working," she admitted. "My family doesn't like it."
"Your family?" Randhir asked her curiously. "Do you live with them?"
"No, but they come over sometimes... it's just for extra precaution that I go by Sarah. Do you have a problem with that?" she asked. "I feel like I'm being grilled here."
"If you get offended so easily, how are you going to cope with the atmosphere of this office?" he asked her seriously. "I don't think you're a good fit for this place."
"What?" she asked, sounding irritated. "You haven't even asked me about my experience!"
"Why do you want to work here?" he asked her.
"I enjoy -" she started, about to give him a recited answer.
"I want an honest answer," he interrupted.
"Fine. I need money," she replied, looking down. "I also need some office experience for my career growth."
"Okay, I will give you money, but in return you will have to do something else for me... something not related to this position," he told her coolly.
"What?" she asked, looking up at him with shock.
4
If there was one thing that he couldn't stand, it was when girls pretended to be innocent. The girl in front of him - Sanyukta Agarwal, was doing just that right now. There was no way that someone could be so innocent, especially when they had a desperation for money. Randhir thought that it would be fun to play around and bring forward her true colours. He wanted to prove that she really was not as innocent as she seemed.
"I want you to come over to my house at night," he explained coolly.
Her eyes widened, as if she was having a hard time understanding what he was saying.
While it was true that he normally had class when it came to girls, he decided to experiment with this one. Her reactions were quite enjoyable.
"What?" she asked, sounding furious. "Why?"
Randhir smirked and glanced down at her resume.
"To help you get some experience," he told her lightly, "My secretary needs to be able to keep me happy."
She pursed her lips together to avoid saying something that she would regret. Instead she balled her hands into fists and brought them down to her lap so that he wouldn't see them over his desk. Randhir could see what she was doing though, and that made it all the more fun.
"I'm not interested in being your personal secretary. I'm here to apply for the position of your office secretary. If you don't want to hire me then just say so, but don't point a finger at my character!" she replied, sounding frustrated.
"When did I ever point a finger on your character?" he asked her coolly. "Look. It's up to you. If you want money, then you can come to my house tonight. One second."
He took out a sticky note from inside one of his desk drawers and a pen. He wrote down his address, phone number and an amount of money. Twenty thousand rupees.
Once he passed her the note, she glanced down at it and frowned.
"What is this?" she asked.
"This is my address and the amount of money you will make tonight if you come. Be there at 9 PM sharp. If you're late, I'll cut five thousand rupees," he told her and leaned back in his chair.
Her eyes widened and she gasped out loud.
"Twenty thousand rupees for just a few hours?" she asked him, her mouth dropping open. "Why do you want me to come so badly?"
Randhir chuckled when he saw her reaction.
"It'll be easy work too. Don't worry, I won't touch you without your permission. I'm just asking you to come and have a chat with me," he told her. "It's up to you whether you believe me or not. If you want to come, then you can come. I'll give you the money tonight itself."
Sanyukta bit down on her lip, as if she was actually thinking about it, and Randhir smirked. He knew it. Innocence did not exist in this world. Everyone fell prey to money.
"I... I don't know," she finally said, "It doesn't feel right to just... just..."
It was like she was struggling for the right word to say, so Randhir completed her sentence for her.
"Sell yourself?" Randhir asked her and she nodded. "Relax. We all sell ourselves in this world. We sell our time, our energy, we even sacrifice our desires to make money. Some people sell their body, some people sell their life away. What's the difference? In the end, we all make money after providing some kind of service. I'm not asking you to sell me your body. I'm asking me to sell me some of your time."
She gulped and stuffed the sticky note in her bag.
"I'll... I'll be going now," she said, taking a deep breath. "I haven't decided yet. I'll call you later on today."
"Okay," he said coolly, completely relaxed against his chair. "Remember, you won't ever make this much money by doing such easy work. Who pays anyone this much money just to chat?"
"I know... you're right, but how can I trust you? We're going to be alone in your house," she told him, sounding fearful.
Randhir sighed loudly and leaned forward, folding his hands together on top of the desk.
"I may sound like I'm hitting on you, but believe me, it isn't hard for me to get girls," he told her seriously, "I don't need to get you. I don't intend to touch you in any way... and anyways, you aren't my type."
She pressed her lips together, as if she were annoyed when he called her not his type. She just picked up her bag and stood up.
"Bye," she then said with a stone like expression and walked out of his office without another word.
Randhir smirked. He was going to prove to perhaps even Sanyukta herself, that she was not as innocent as she made herself out to be.
"I wonder if she seriously thinks she's as innocent as she acts," he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes, "If I don't break that overconfidence she has, then my name isn't Randhir Singh Shekhawat."
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