Chapter 6 Veera

Chapter 6 Veera

Text messages from two years and three months ago:

VEERA: Hi, it's Veera! Great meeting you last night.

DEEPAK: Hey, I was just thinking about our conversation. Great meeting you, too. I'm always thrilled to drink whiskey with a woman

who knows her daaru.

VEERA: I only know whiskey because it's the thing my dad and I have in common, so it's been a part of many awkward father-daughter

moments.

VEERA: Sorry, that was weird.

DEEPAK: Not at all. As a Punjabi, whiskey was my rite of passage into adulthood. Thankfully, I didn't mind. I wish my friends were

able to enjoy the selection at the party, though. They love whiskey as much as I do.

VEERA: Sorry they disappeared on you.

DEEPAK: No big deal. The advice on the tech investment portfolio was incredibly helpful. Would you be interested in meeting up for

lunch this week? Our offices are close. I really want to get your take on ethical lending.

VEERA: My specialty! Yeah, happy to meet. Tuesdays and Thursdays are my best days right now. Either one work for you?

DEEPAK: I'll make it work. Tuesday at one?

DEEPAK: Honestly, I wanted to support Prem by going to this party with him. I guess meeting you was my gift for being a good friend.

VEERA: That's really sweet of you to say.

VEERA: Sorry, I have to run to a meeting, but Tuesday works for me!

Veera's first thought before she opened her eyes was that she wanted the gods to take her right then and there and save her from her misery. Her head throbbed, a steady pounding that intensified as sleep faded into awareness. To make matters worse, her eyes burned behind closed lids, and her stomach roiled with what little was left in it after she'd puked most of the contents the night before.

She unglued her tongue from the roof of her dry mouth as she slowly lifted her head off the pillow in an attempt to sit up.

Why was she so warm? She was usually freezing.

Then a hand slid over the curve of her hip and onto her abdomen. The touch was firm and possessive.

She froze before shifting ever so slightly to look down at her stomach. Her vision cleared in the pale morning light filtering

through the small gap in her curtains to see a large masculine hand with long, tapered fingers.

There was a thin gold band on the ring finger.

Veera shifted her hips and felt a very noticeable hard erection at the curve of her ass.

"Sorry." The rough, deep timbre of Deepak's voice was like an electric current through her body. He shifted his hips back.

"It's... morning."

She reacted before she could think through her next steps and rolled right off the bed and onto the floor.

"God damn it," she shouted as her knees sang in a fresh wave of pain. Her stomach pitched and she had to focus to keep from

throwing up into the bedside table drawer.

"Veera! Shit, are you all right?" Deepak said. She looked up to see his disheveled hair sticking up in all directions. He

was shirtless, and his hard lean body loomed over her like a cruel, tempting joke that said, look but don't touch .

In all the time she'd known him, she'd never seen his naked torso. Now that she was faced with all that gleaming, muscled

skin, she was grateful for her ignorance.

It would've made the miserable pining so much worse.

Once her stomach settled, her desire warred with absolute humiliation.

"What are you doing in my bed?" she finally croaked.

He scratched his day-old scruff at his jaw. "I think I fell asleep here after our wedding last night."

" Wedding? " she choked. Veera stumbled to her feet. She looked down at her sleeveless, thin, cotton nightie to make sure all the important parts were covered.

"We got married last night," Deepak said, as he sat back on the bed and leaned against her headboard. He retrieved a bottle

of water from the side table and chugged half of it before dropping his head back and closing his eyes.

He looked like he was in just as poor shape as she was, despite his cheery voice.

"You mean our fake wedding," Veera said. She wanted desperately to sit down, to ease some of the hangover aches and pains, but she was afraid

of getting too close to Deepak again in their current state of undress. She'd want to reach out and touch, and touching was

not allowed among friends. Even fake-married friends.

"Technically it was a real wedding," Deepak said. "The pandit did a full religious ceremony. As Hindus, it's as real of a

marriage as we can get."

"Nope," Veera said. "Nope, no, no, no, no, no."

He cocked his head to the side. His brow furrowed as if he were realizing what had happened, too. "Yes."

"Deepak, we did not just get married for real."

"I hate to break it to you, but unless you've converted, that was a real wedding. For Americans, it's more about the legal

paperwork. But for us? This was it. Culturally, and religiously, our souls are now together for seven lifetimes, wifey."

Deepak squinted, then mouthed the word wifey as if he were trying it out again. He shook his head.

"I'm sure there is a religious ceremony for divorce , too," she said.

"Maybe." Deepak scratched the scruff on his jaw. The bristles made a rasping sound that caused goose bumps to race down her

arms. "Wow. I'm married to Veera Mathur."

There was a sharp knock, and Veera was grateful for the brief intrusion. She glanced one more time at Deepak's naked chest and stumbled across the room to open the door.

Her sister stood on the other side with a food tray in both hands. Her hair was wet from a shower and slicked back off her

face. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks ashy, but she was smiling and dressed in a polo and board shorts. It was the same

outfit she preferred to wear when she was traveling.

"Hey, sis."

"Where are you going?" Veera asked.

"It depends." Sana looked over Veera's shoulder at Deepak. "Hey, brother-in-law."

"Hey, sister-in-law," he responded and saluted her with the empty bottle of water. He glanced over at Veera, that confused,

unsure expression still on his face.

"Stop it, both of you," Veera shouted. Her head rang from the sound of her own voice. "There was no real wedding."

Sana sailed past her into the room and placed the tray on the bed. "Technically, it was a proper religious ceremony by a priest

done with traditional Punjabi rituals. That makes it real."

"Exactly," Deepak said, as he pointed a finger at Sana. His eyes focused on the gold band, and he looked down at it, turning

his palm over back and forth as he examined the ring.

"God will understand if we all call it fake," Veera replied.

"I don't think that's how that works, Vee," Sana said. She picked up a cup and handed it to her. "Hangover cure."

Veera didn't hesitate in bringing the chai to her lips and drinking as quickly as she could without scalding her tongue. The

warm, richly spiced milk tea with turmeric and extra ginger settled her stomach. The piercing pain in her skull began to fade

to a dull throb.

Sana reached across the bed to hand Deepak the second cup. "I would've let you newlyweds sleep in, but we have a small problem that you should know about."

Newlyweds. Veera had to still be in a daze, a dream, to be called a newlywed. She looked down at her hands and that's when she noticed

the short stack of red bangles on her wrists. Her chuda, a gift given by an uncle, which symbolized a newly married woman.

Then she saw the giant solitaire diamond that was the size of a brick on her finger. It was so sparkly it rivaled the sun.

She would've probably noticed it first if she hadn't been staring at Deepak's chest.

Dear god, the ring was beautiful. It was exactly what she would've wanted if she were getting married for real. She tilted

her hand back and forth to see the sparkle and rainbows from the pristine clarity and cut. Its weight felt magical on her

hand, like this one particular ring was always supposed to belong to her.

"What kind of problem?" Deepak said, crashing through Veera's awestruck thoughts. He motioned toward her sister with his cup.

"Sana, I don't think I can handle any more problems. Do I need to be completely sober? Because I'm not sure if I am quite

yet."

"You don't have to be sober, and I think it's something you can handle," Sana replied. She pulled out her cell phone from

her back pocket and handed it to her.

"Spotted in Goa," he read aloud. Then he squinted and brought the phone inches in front of his face. "Deepak Datta, recently

ditched fiancé of lifestyle and beauty blogger Olivia Gupta, was seen Thursday evening with the daughters of Malkit Mathur,

former CEO of the Mathur Financial Group."

Deepak stared at the phone, then glanced up at Veera who met his gaze. His expression was stunned.

Haunted.

"There is a picture of the three of us drinking shots yesterday."

"It's fine," Veera said, even though she felt the sick dread pool in her gut. "I'm sure it'll just blow over. I'm not newsworthy,

and Deepak, your fame will die down, too."

"Not likely," Sana replied, as she took her phone back from Deepak. "The person who saw both of you drinking probably saw

you get married, too."

Veera could feel a cold sweat at the base of her neck. "That's a really big assumption that you're making, Sana."

Deepak sat forward in her bed. "Vee, as much as I should disagree with your sister on principle—"

"Hey!"

"I think she has a point. It's possible we were seen. I can't take chances and assume anything but the worst, because my position

with the board is already shaky."

Veera turned on her sister, careful not to drop her chai. "This is your fault. You're the one who demanded that we help Manfred

and Debby."

"And you're the one who said you'd help them!" Sana shot back. "We may still be drinking like we're twenty-five, but we're

old enough to take responsibility for our own actions, Veera."

"Hey now, that's my wife you're talking to," Deepak said.

"Zip it," both Sana and Veera said in unison.

"Fine," he said and held one hand up in surrender as he sipped his chai.

Veera had to turn her back to him. He still hadn't taken the time to put a shirt back on, and he had a small smattering of

chest hair that trailed down the center of his abdomen toward the waistband of his shorts. On top of that, he was calling

her wife .

If Veera didn't think the world was cruel before, she sure as hell thought so now.

"I'm sorry for my part in your complicated mess," Sana finally admitted. She took Veera's chai, sipped, and handed the cup

back. "To be honest, I didn't realize the priest was going to actually get you married in a full Hindu ceremony until you

two started walking around that fire. By then it was already too late."

"It's still not legal," Veera said to her sister, her voice sounding suspiciously shrill. "Why are we making a big deal out

of this when it's not even legal?"

"Because we're in India, and we're Indians and legal doesn't matter when there is a traditional Hindu ceremony. In the eyes

of every Hindu god, you're about to spend seven lifetimes together."

Damn. Veera sat at the edge of her bed, her cup gripped tightly in her hands as she tried to remember all the details from

the night before. She'd been so swept up in the drunken fantasy of getting married to Deepak that she hadn't been able to

think clearly about the consequences. She looked down at her ring again, her thumb brushing over the edge of the cool diamond.

"Don't look like that, Vee," Sana said. "Instead of lying low, and being on defense, I have an idea. That's why I'm dressed

in my travel clothes." She motioned to her outfit.

Great , Veera thought. She knew her sister was up to something the minute Sana put her polo shirt on.

"What's the idea?" Deepak asked. He was now checking his phone that he must've left on the side table. His brow furrowed.

"It looks like the picture of us is starting to make its rounds on a few of the other gossip sites, so at this point, I'm

willing to try anything."

Sana's eyes sparkled as she stepped forward and gripped Veera's shoulders.

"Vee, I think you should stay married."

" What? " Veera said.

"Yes. I mean— what? " Deepak added.

Veera turned to glare at him, and he had the audacity to look sheepish.

"Sana," Veera said. "Why in the world would we stay being fake married?"

"Because it accomplishes both of your goals," Sana said. "I had this epiphany in my hangover shower this morning." She ran

her hands through her damp hair and gestured to both Deepak and Veera. "Deepak needs to prove that he is a dependable, stable

choice for CEO of Illyria. That's why he was going to marry Olivia."

Deepak raised his hand. "Olivia is also an Illyria Media Group board member. She inherited her seat from her father who was

my dad's best friend. She's the swing vote."

Veera looked over her shoulder at Deepak and gaped. Had he really agreed to marry Olivia because she was so crucial to winning

board votes? Was that the only reason that he'd chosen her as a wife? "Deepak, why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't exactly a decision I was proud about," he said.

Sana waved a hand in front of Veera's face, cutting off her spiraling thoughts. "You may not have a board vote, but there

are still Mathur Financial Group members who would support you. And if Deepak can pretend that he had to leave Olivia because

he wanted to be with you, then his reptation is salvageable."

"What's in it for Veera?" Deepak asked. "It sounds like she gets shafted in the deal."

Sana glared at him. "Of course, she doesn't get shafted, you ass," she said. "This whole plan is because I want to support

my sister, not cause her more harm. I'm trying to help her, not you. Obviously."

It was Veera's turn to wave a hand in front of Sana's face. Her eyeballs were burning, and she really wanted to crawl into a dark hole right now. "Just tell me the rest, Sana."

Sana cupped Veera's cheek in a fleeting touch of comfort. Her expression softened, and like when they were children and someone

had hurt Veera's feelings, Sana was right there in front of her, telling her that it was going to be okay, and she would kick

some ass in retribution.

"With Deepak's name," she started, "you'll be able to access some of your older client base. You can either work for them

or do something on your own."

Veera did not like where this was going. She stepped away from her sister's touch. It was no longer comforting, no longer

safe. "I don't need to be fake married to accomplish my career aspirations. That's sexist."

"But wouldn't it be easier with some help? You can either go back to your old job, or you can open up your own business, just

like we planned. You won't have me—"

"—but you'll have me," Deepak said from behind them. He was still leaning back against the headboard, the sheet pooled in

his lap.

Sana pressed both her palms together, as if in prayer. "By joining forces, you both will be unstoppable. Deepak gets a wife

that he likes —"

"That's true."

"—and Veera gets the support she needs."

"Right," she said, slowly.

This whole situation was way too risky, way too dangerous to decide between one heartbeat and the next. It required careful consideration and planning. It required a list of pros and cons, the same type of list that she wrote with her best friends when they had a major life pivot.

Veera desperately wished she could talk to Kareena and Bobbi right now. She felt like they would know exactly what to do in

this situation.

Except she hadn't been the most present friend over the last year. It would be unfair of her to call them now after all this

time and ask them for help. She was on her own.

No, that wasn't true. She did have one friend she could talk to.

"Deepak," she said, as she looked down at the swirling steaming tea she cupped in her palms. "Thoughts?"

He cocked his head to the side, as if assessing her in her cotton Indian nightie. "If I get the CEO position, you'll have

the option to come back to work for me, no questions asked. No one would even think twice if you were hired again since we're

married. I can also give you a small business loan to start your own company. As my wife, your future clients would expect

that I'd be your first investor."

She hadn't thought of it that way. That pretending to be married to Deepak meant that she had access to capital. She could

go back to work as if nothing had changed at all, or she could open up a business and focus on what she was truly passionate

about. Ethical lending, microloans, and minority-owned businesses.

"Won't everyone assume Deepak's just saving his ass?" she asked.

"Please," Sana said. She waved a hand in dismissal. "We come from one of the most romantic cultures in the world. Our people

would be ecstatic at the thought that Deepak didn't sleep with Olivia because he was secretly still pining over you. We can

pitch this as a whirlwind love affair where Deepak finally felt free enough to be with the woman he always wanted."

"Sana has a point," Deepak said. "We just have to make sure we have the same scripted story about our relationship." He put his cup aside, got off the bed, and picked up his discarded shirt off the floor. At least he was wearing shorts that were modest enough to limit her wild imagination, Veera thought. She watched as he slipped his head through the hole and covered up inch by gorgeous inch of creamy skin.

When he turned and caught her staring, she blurted out, "What about Olivia?"

Sana raised her hand. "That's where I come in. As long as Deepak still helps you, I'll work on getting Olivia back to the

States so that she can participate in the vote."

"How are you going to do that?" Deepak asked. "She's not answering her phone, and no one knows where she is."

Sana combed her fingers through her hair, and the cocky expression on her face was the same one that had made countless people

fall in the past. "I heard through the rumor mill that Olivia is up in Scotland spending some time with mutual friends. As

long as you protect my sister, Deepak, I'll make sure you get your vote at the November board meeting even if I have to drag

her by her extensions onto a plane headed for New York."

Veera rubbed her hands over her face as Sana and Deepak continued to talk strategy, as if their plan were as simple as picking

a restaurant for dinner or participating in a snorkeling expedition. There were so many things that could go wrong. This was

a fake relationship they were talking about.

Veera read romance novels. She knew that someone always found out the truth.

Except you had a real wedding ceremony, Vee. The giant rock on your finger and the red bangles are proof that there is nothing

fake about the setup.

Her subconscious irritatingly refuted each and every one of her concerns. She and Deepak didn't hate each other. Her feelings for him were exactly the opposite of "hate" even after all this time. But what happened when he was voted in, and Olivia was back?

Would she ever be able to reclaim the life she'd built for herself then?

Veera couldn't think about this anymore. She needed a clear head and some Advil before she made any more decisions.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said over the sound of Sana and Deepak's bickering. "An epiphany shower."

She strode into the adjoining bath and locked the door behind her. With the lights off, Veera stepped under the hot heavy

spray of the showerhead. She closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

Holy shit, she was married. She was a married woman. She watched as the steady stream of water trickled over the bright red

bangles, over her ring that she neglected to take off. Then she sat on the shower bench and stared at the solitaire and matching

wedding band that continued to sparkle in the dark.

She could guess Deepak's reasoning for agreeing to something as chaotic as a fake relationship. He'd always been willing to

do anything to get what he wanted.

But was she strong enough to do the same? Would going along with this whole story, even if it was for a few months, help her

gain independence and contentment?

When the water began to cool with her spiraling thoughts, she stepped out of her shower, brushed her teeth, washed her face,

and braided her hair. She slipped on a cotton sundress that she retrieved from her suitcase and debated removing the chuda

and ring but decided to leave them on. A chuda was a sacred symbol that acknowledged her religious match.

If she could honor it just a little bit longer, she thought.

A few minutes later, she walked out into the common living space.

Deepak was sitting on the couch. He'd also freshly showered and shaved, even though his bloodshot eyes matched hers. She smelled

pine and musk as she walked passed him and nearly sighed in pleasure.

"Advil's on the table," he said. "Want me to order you some more chai?"

Veera shook her head. "Where's Sana?"

"She's looking at flights," he said. Then he crossed the room until he stood inches from her. In a move so uncharacteristic

of their friendship, he took her hands in his. She looked up at him, wide-eyed as his thumbs brushed the inside of her wrists

and touched the stack of red bangles she'd chosen to leave on.

"Veera, we can just forget about Sana's plan," he said quietly.

"You don't think we can pull it off?" she said.

Deepak chuckled, and the deep rumbling sound was so close she could almost feel the vibrations against her heart. "If anyone

could pull it off, I think we can. But I am the one with the publicity disaster on my hands. If someone finds out about the

wedding, I'll handle it. You and your sister don't owe me anything. Regardless, I'll help you any way you need when you're

back in the States—"

"I'll do it," she said before she lost her courage. She turned her hands over in his and squeezed his fingers. "I'll be your

fake wife. As long as you agree if either of us are done pretending, then we stop all this. We'll reassess after the board

meeting in November."

Deepak hesitated, his jaw clenching. "Fine," he said. "I can agree to that."

"I mean, this has to end, right? Once I get my life back, the one I had before..."

"Riiight," he said, the word drawn out, as if he were debating whether that was the right response she was looking for. "But for now, you'll do it?"

Veera nodded. "To be honest, it's not the most insane thing I've ever done. Sana and I used to switch places all the time

as kids, and we got into way worse situations."

"Oh yeah?" Deepak said. She saw his shoulders relax as his pale face brightened with a smile. "Did you ever get caught?"

"Nope," Veera said. "But it was superawkward when I once sent her to tell this guy that I wasn't really into him, and the

next day, his sister was professing her love for me."

Deepak grinned. "See? If you didn't get caught after that, then we'll be fine."

Veera slipped her hands out of his. "As long as we promise to always put our friendship first, we just might be able to pull

this off."

Deepak grinned. "We're married friends," he said. "Now we can eat at all the restaurants, and I have to pay for it."

"Oh, look at that, I'm already seeing the bright side."

He pulled her in for a hug and dropped a friendly kiss to the crown of her head. His hands were firm, his hold was respectful,

and his voice, the silky-smooth timber, inspired a quiet confidence. "You and I will make a great team, Vee. I'm so sorry

that our parents never saw your value, but I promise I always will."

Veera burrowed into his embrace for one brief moment. She hoped that he was right.