Dance with Me
Shurya glanced at his watch: She, Ms. TRP was now down to her last five minutes. Three hundred more seconds and their agreement would become null and void. He scoffed at the thought that she may actually consider bailing out on their arrangement, and then smiled to himself. Nahi, her family was everything to her, and as of today, their entire fate was securely under his control. Before the end of the night Miss Mehek Sharma would conclusively understand exactly who she was dealing with, and tow the line from now on.
"Shaurya Sir: with our compliments."
The sophisticated man turned his lithe frame to greet the nightclub's owner who, accompanied by a subordinate, effusively offered the chilled bottle of champagne to the business tycoon. Already envisioning the prestige he would garner when society learned that Mr Shaurya Khanna himself patronized his establishment, he gushingly began the spiel he held in reserve for whenever a VIP would show up. Only this time, he was actually sincere in both his felicitations and his compliments. However, he knew failure loomed on the horizon when the man in question checked his wristwatch, much as he had been doing on a regular basis since he had arrived and had been seated in the secluded area reserved for the big-name patrons. The manager was totally crestfallen then, when the man, unmoved by his speech, held his hand up in an imperious signal for him to cease his rambling and go away. Despairingly, the man stammered an apology for disturbing his guest, and hastily backtracked in order to leave the aloof man to his own company.
"Aacha thik hai: wait just a minute," Shaurya demanded, beckoning the man back to him, and giving the grateful man the instructions he decided on a dime he wished carried out.
Two minutes...
She was cutting it closer than he ever expected her to. Perhaps the release of her Chachas was secondary to actually following through on what he had requested, he thought as he took a long draw from the glass he held. It would be her loss should she not show up he thought. Despite what she may believe, Shaurya fully intended to keep his end of his bargain; provided that Mehek upheld her own.
One minute now.
The dress was not a perfect fit after all. A little loose, the black off the shoulder sheath dress still hugged the curves that she hid dresed in the traditional garb she usually wore. His lip curled slightly; it was clear how ill at ease the young woman was, as he had fully anticipated, and wanted her to feel. Modest by modern standards, he was certain that the conservative young woman would feel akin to being practically naked in the knee length fitted dress. He laughed aloud when she started when the manager came and spoke in her ear, asking her to follow him to the table where he awaited.
"Mr. Khanna; you guest has arrived."
"And so she has, "Shaurya stated as he stood, the epitome of gallantry, although he knew that she had to recognize the mocking action for what it was. He pulled out the chair adjacent to his, offering it to her.
"Please bring her a glass of the special vintage I've selected, won't you?"
"Nahi."
Laconically, he raised one eyebrow; daring her to continue her opposition to his way.
"You said it was only to be a dance: nothing more," she pleaded.
"I would rather say that everything is negotiable, wouldn't you," he said reaching out in the direction of her exposed collarbone.
She smacked his hand away, and he chortled.
"Aacha: one dance, and perhaps then you will ready for that drink then."
Mehek's eyes teared, knowing on one hand that she couldn't possibly trust him, but also knowing she had no choice but to see this through. She closed her eyes so that at least she could hide the worst of her distress from him; it felt like he had taken everything from her already: not only causing the upheaval in her family, but also stripping both her pride and her modesty with his demands. Her offer to quit his show had had no bearing on the man; he would only withdraw the FIR if she acquiesced to this indecent request. And when the dress had been delivered by the driver who would ferry her to the address he wished her to come to, she understood that this heartless man would spare nothing in his plans for her subjugation. He would show her her place once and for all; which clearly he believed to be at his feet.
She opened her eyes aware of the futility of the situation. "How do I know, you won't change your mind," she pleaded.
Her phone rang at that exact moment. Mehek looked to him, unconsciously seeking his permission to take the call, and swallowed when he had nodded his head in agreement.
"Mehek beta." It was Aunt Kanta. "Everything is going to be okay; the Inspector has been on the phone, and finally it seems that they see the absurdity of these charges. They've said that if they receive confirmation in the next few minutes, that they may be able to release the both of them right away. Beta, keep your phone on so I can call you back, thik hai?"
"Haan," Mehek answered weakly staring at the man who held all the cards in his hands.
And yet, now it seemed he still found room in them for hers.
"One phone call from me is all that it will take Ms. Sharma," he taunted her, his palm outstretched to her.
"Dance with me."
************
He let her leave afterwards, graciously allowing her the time she needed to return home and transform herself back into the good girl her family believed her to be, before they arrived en masse from the police station.
This would be their secret: at least for now. Outside in the parking lot he watched as she pulled away in the car he had arranged, seconds before the photographer approached him, at the ready with the photos that would be leaked anonymously mid-way through the series' viewing schedule. Old Delhi's darling, Miss Mehek Sharma would be exposed and stripped of her paragon like facade and the ratings would go through the roof by the scandal, Sharuya thought as he scanned the batch of photos that had been taken surreptitiously in the club moments before. The photographer had done an excellent job exposing only her to the lens while leaving her dance partner completly in the shadows. The speculation over her paramour would drive their viewers wild, he thought, and they would ponder for days the man who had come so close her.
Let them, he thought, for that too would remain their secret. She would never tell. Unwittingly he ran his finger over the figure captured in the image and closed his eyes. He was back in control of the situation, and Miss TRP at last knew her place. And if the price for his actions was now an inability to forget how incredible it felt to have her in his arms for those five minutes, then so be it, he thought.
All that mattered was that Shaurya Khanna was back in control.
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