Chapter 11 Veera

Chapter 11 Veera

Veera felt like she had been run over by a freight train.

The aunties were like a force that had stormed into the house with bags and boxes filled with temple things that she was supposed

to set up in the home. Then they left her with a to-do list a mile long. Veera picked up the note in Sonali Auntie's meticulous

handwriting left next to one of the silver trays. The header read "Do this or be doomed to an unhappy life." The first item

required a pandit to review star charts.

She looked at the rest of the trays wrapped in red fabric lined up on the dining room table and all over the kitchen. There

were lists next to each one.

"Definitely need takeout," she said. She took her phone out of her jeans pocket and was about to text Deepak when the door

chime rang from the small unit next to the hallway entrance.

"Deepak?" she called out.

"Yeah." His voice sounded as exhausted as she felt. After a long, heartfelt sigh, he said, "Man, it's good to come home to

you."

Her heart did one slow roll in her chest at his sweet words. She walked through the hallway entrance and looked down the stairwell

to see him pick up two paper bags and cart them up to the main level on socked feet. His tie hung loose around his neck and

the top button of his shirt was undone. What was even sexier was the smell of Chinese takeout.

"Oh my god, please tell me some of that is for me," she said.

"Pork fried rice and beef and broccoli with crab rangoon on the side," he said in response.

She moved out of the way so he could enter the kitchen. "You remembered!"

He shot her a withering look over his shoulder as he headed for the island. "It's the only order you've ever gotten from a

Chinese restaurant in all the times we've eaten takeout."

"Okay, fair."

Deepak froze when he saw the trays wrapped in cloth scattered around his kitchen. "Uh, what's going on?"

"Did you get my text message?"

He turned to look at her slowly, bags swinging at his sides, then winced. "The aunties. I'm so sorry; I was jumped the minute

I walked into the office, and I haven't had a break since. Was it terrible?"

"I had to fight them with a sword and slay the dragons," she said, as she twisted her wedding and engagement rings. "But I

managed. They said because my mom and I aren't on speaking terms, they're, ah, representing."

The sweetness of their gesture, of their kind words as they patted her shoulder and sat her down on the couch, had brought

tears to her eyes, and enough lectures about family for a lifetime.

"Did they believe us?" Deepak said, as he opened the first bag. "That you and I are together?"

"They did," Veera replied. They had acted as if they had been waiting for Veera and Deepak to fall in love this whole time.

She knew that she was to blame for making them feel that way. She was probably a bit too obvious in how she'd felt about Deepak

when they were in public.

"Good," he said. Then he just slumped against the counter as if that were the last to-do item on a very long list that he'd barely made it through.

She tapped a finger against her chin. "I'm exhausted, but it looks like your day tops mine."

He nodded. "It's been... a lot."

Veera strode past him to the small counter space next to his sink so she could wash her hands. That's when she remembered

to check to make sure that she was presentable. She still wore her comfiest T-shirt and leggings, but there were no stains.

That was always a good sign.

Her chuda set and mehndi were the only parts of her that were a little out of place. But she liked the shocking red on her

wrists, the glitter of her diamond ring that contrasted with her casual lounge outfit. Even though they were fake married,

she'd committed to keeping the bracelets and jewelry on for the customary time. She heard that some women preferred to wear

them for the first year of marriage, but since she wasn't going to be fake married that long, at the most, six months, she

thought wearing her chuda for the minimum number of weeks would be acceptable.

Some traditions were worth risking her bruised heart.

"It was really nice of you to pick up dinner for both of us," she said, as she wiped her hands on the towel hanging from the

range handlebar. "But I could've done that if you were superbusy."

"You might have to tomorrow," he said. "The company I hire for meal services is going to add some prepared frozen trays to

my weekly order." He rubbed his palms over his face and then picked up Sonali Auntie's note next to the silver tray closest

to where he stood. "Veera?"

"Yeah?"

"Why does this say that you have to marry a banyan or a peepul tree?"

"Oh, because I'm Manglik," she said. "Farah Auntie got our birth time and date information so she could have her pandit produce our janampatris to see if we're a suitable match. My janampatri—"

"Star chart?" he translated. "Are you talking about the star alignments you're born under?"

"Yup. My janampatri says I am marked and could lead to the downfall of our marriage since you're not also Manglik. There are

all sorts of theories behind how some of these religious and cultural rules are designed to be casteist, and Manglik is one

of them." She removed two plates from the upper cabinet. "I'm going to ignore it since I'm technically supposed to marry a

tree first , and a pandit can just do a pooja to satisfy that obligation. Not a lot of peepul or banyan trees in New York during the

fall."

"Okay, maybe I should've asked another question first," Deepak said, as he set down the note and walked over to the wine fridge.

He pulled out a bottle of white that she preferred.

"What question?" she asked.

"How did the aunties even know you're here?"

Veera shrugged. "I think your mother told them."

"Of course she did," he muttered. Then with hunched shoulders, he began to unscrew the bottle. "She probably planned it this

way so that I couldn't come home and interfere."

Veera removed the containers from the bags he'd opened for her, and the kitchen immediately filled with the spicy and sweet

scents of delicious Chinese takeout. "What happened today?"

"Olivia sent a proxy to the board meeting. They want to look at other candidates."

Veera paused in the process of picking up a piece of broccoli from her container. "Why in the world would she do that?"

"She's angry," Deepak said. "But of course, she has every right to be."

Veera felt a pang of jealousy. Deepak had chosen Olivia. She had been the undisputed choice. Even if the decision was mostly

because of the business, did he have feelings for her? Veera snatched up her phone and was already opening her text app. "Let

me tell my sister. Maybe there's something she can do to convince—"

Deepak waved a hand. "It's okay. I already talked to Sana. She's working on it."

Veera paused, then deleted her angry text and put her phone aside. "Fine. Deepak, I'm so sorry that she's putting you through

the wringer. But there's no way another candidate from the outside would know nearly as much about the business to compete

with you. Even if they have like thirty years of experience over you, Illyria Entertainment, and now Illyria Media Group is

yours . Everyone knows that."

The corner of his mouth curled but then it set in a straight line again. In a move that delighted her, he grabbed her hand

and tugged her across the kitchen until he was wrapping her in his arms and resting his cheek against her temple.

He smelled as delicious as he had that morning. Even better than Chinese takeout, if that were possible. The aftershave was

more subtle, but he was still uniquely Deepak. Her hands smoothed over the soft fabric of his button-down shirt. Whenever

he hugged her like this, holding her against his chest, she felt the unique mix of both arousal and bone-deep comfort.

"Sometimes I wonder if I really deserve it," he said, his chest rumbling against her ear. "If all this is just because of birthright, and no matter how hard I work, the only reason why I am getting the position is because of my father. I mean, what makes me the perfect candidate over you or your sister?"

"Gender," Veera said blandly as she looked up at him.

"Right. That's my point."

Veera remained quiet for a moment, not sure exactly what she should say to make him feel better in this situation. Then she

pulled out of his hug. "So what?"

Deepak looked down at her. "What?"

"I said, So what? Deepak, there is always going to be someone who is smarter or more qualified. You knew from the moment that

you were born you had to work for this. But there is a difference between being the most qualified and being the best candidate.

Accept the fact that you now have competition, and when you win, make sure that people who aren't as lucky as you are still

given a fair shot."

She returned to her food and took one of the crab rangoons before arranging her food on her plate. Then she sipped from the

glass of wine that Deepak had poured for her. She felt the cool crisp alcohol linger on her tongue.

They sat on the barstools adjacent to each other. Deepak separated the pair of chopsticks that came in one of the bags and

effortlessly twirled them between his fingers before settling them into position.

"I should've fought harder to keep you and your sister in the leadership structure," he said. "But your father made the cut

before the merger was finalized."

Veera pushed the container of crab rangoons forward so he could take one. "You have the chance to help me now and that's what

matters."

He smiled, and this time it was his genuine, rueful expression. "Just promise me that whatever happens, you'll talk to me first so we can work together."

"Done," she lied. Veera shifted in her seat and then broached the topic that had been on her mind since the aunties left.

"Hey, I was going to ask you. When am I going to see your parents? Are they okay with us visiting this weekend?"

Deepak snapped his fingers as if he remembered something that he was supposed to tell her. "This weekend. They're excited

to see you again. We're confirmed for a trip to Hudson Valley."

Veera had to bite her tongue at the thought that the Dattas had a weekend home. It's not like she didn't grow up with a lot

of wealth, too. It's just that Deepak's family was on a whole different level than hers.

"That works for me."

"Great," he said. Then he dug into his noodles. They slipped into a moment of awkward silence. Deepak didn't seem to mind,

though. He began to methodically devour his food. He topped off her wine and drank deeply from his own glass. The strong lines

of his throat clenched and relaxed as he swallowed.

He was so quiet.

What were they supposed to talk about now? They used to always have conversation, but things were different.

Veera pushed around her broccoli floret for another moment before she got to her feet. This was way too weird for her. That

meant it was time for her to make her exit. "Hey, I realized that you just got home. I'll take this up and eat in my sitting

room. You probably need some space to decompress. I also downloaded this new romance about blue aliens, so..."

He looked at her with a puzzled expression. "What are you talking about?"

"Blue aliens? Well, apparently they have—"

"No, not the aliens. Why are you leaving?"

"When you come home, you probably want some alone time and quiet time. You may also want to work. I don't want to get in the

way. We both lived with roommates before, but it's been a while since we've had one."

"Whoa whoa whoa," he said, then made a time-out signal with his hands. "We aren't roommates."

She cocked her head as she sat down again, surprised at how swiftly he responded with irritation. She knew that he hadn't

had the best day. Maybe that was the reason why. "We have a fake marriage, and we have to live together until your position

is secured at Illyria," she said. "Until then, we're roommates."

"No," Deepak said again, his voice even. He set down his chopsticks. "Veera, we're husband and wife."

"Fake husband and wife," she said. She was starting to feel just as anxious, just as tense as he sounded. Didn't he see? Didn't

he realize how dangerous it was to even consider that what they had was something real? How was she supposed to protect her

heart if he refused to let her keep up the barriers and the walls that she'd erected between them?

He picked up his wineglass and drained the rest of the contents before putting the glass down with a hard clink on the table.

"Are you looking for, what, a chore chart?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "All I'm saying is that when you come home, you probably want some space. I'm trying

to be respectful."

He was quiet for the few moments it took him to systematically devoured his meal. Then when his plate was empty and she was

still fiddling with a broccoli floret, he dabbed at his mouth with the napkin, and tucked it next to his plate.

"Veera, if I need space, I'll tell you, but I don't want you to think that you're getting in my way. I want you here. I like spending time with you. And even though you and Sana had been traveling for eight months, I still consider you my best friend

and living with you is probably going to be a new adventure every day."

There went her heart again. It thumped heavily in her chest, even as she tried desperately not to read into Deepak's words.

"This feels weird," she said softly.

"Yeah," he said. Then he leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

There was another beat of silence, this time the soft hum of the heat kicking on, the early autumn nights cooling enough for

the house to require it.

"I have an idea," he said. "Since this has been a truly shit day, and it's our second night as husband and wife living together—"

"Deepak."

"Fine, as fake husband and wife. Do you want to watch a movie on the couch, and open up all the trays that the aunties brought over?"

Veera smiled as she fiddled with her chopsticks and cooling food. Deepak knew that despite how old they were, how mature they

were when it came to their careers, this was a novel situation, and she was going to periodically lose her shit. He was keeping

things light, and she had to meet him halfway. "Yes, that sounds awesome. I'll finish this and clean up while you change,

and then I have to tell you about all the postwedding expectations we have to do."

He got to his feet and took his plate to the sink. "I'm afraid to ask."

"It's as bad as you think. Marrying a banyan tree is only the start. Bobbi and Bunty are hosting our fake wedding reception in a few weeks and in addition to the board, the guest list is huge. Then there are three different poojas, and a whole host of married-woman ceremonies coming up now that it's fall. It'll start with Durga Pooja and end with Diwali."

"I hope these trays include dessert to make all this information more bearable," he said.

"Oh, they do. I already started eating some of them. But don't worry, I saved the pink chum chum sweets for you."

Deepak grinned at her over his shoulder, and Veera's heart fluttered.

Hopefully it wouldn't hurt too badly when she fell this time around.