Chapter Six Ajay

RAJ:Are you going to make a decision?

AJAY:Just because you have my number doesn’t mean you are permitted to use it at your convenience.

RAJ:Then don’t answer. I know how busy you are, Ajay. That’s why I’m trying to wrap things up.

AJAY:Trying to get rid of me so soon?

RAJ:Is that why you’re stringing me along? So you could spend more time with me? That’s an interesting tactic.

AJAY:Is it working?

RAJ:I’ll let you know. Send the nondisclosures at least. I’m not a patient woman.

AJAY:Then I’ll have to make the waiting more pleasurable for you. Check your inbox. Tushar sent the disclosures.

A Punjabi wedding meant three things: alcohol, bhangra, and lots of matchmaking. Ajay didn’t mind the first two, but the third was the reason the last thirty-six hours of his life had been the most miserable he’d had to endure since the last wedding he’d attended with his family. Four events meant four separate opportunities for his mother and her friends to try to force single women on him.

He’d danced with a surgeon who was as interested in him as he was in her, been encouraged to sit and eat with a grad student searching for internship opportunities, and talked to an engineer his brother Zail had dated the year before. Ajay’s patience had come to an end.

Since taking over as COO, his lack of time had limited his relationships to mutually satisfying sex and the occasional business dinner. His partners knew that he wasn’t looking for a long-term commitment, and they weren’t looking for them, either.

Raj would understand that kind of laser focus on work, he thought as he sipped his whiskey in a shadowed corner. She would know the odds and demand nothing more or less than what either of them had to give. The only problem was that after her little business meeting at the beginning of the week, she was now a potential investment. In his line of work, that meant hands off... for now. He couldn’t help flirting with her via text, but that was going to have to stop, too.

He surveyed Uncle Frankie’s ballroom, which took up the first floor of his Long Island family estate, hoping he’d get a glimpse of the woman who’d occupied his brain space during the week. The terrace doors were open to a cool, breezy night, while the front entrance, flanked by marble statues of Lord Ganesh, welcomed a steady stream of late arrivals. The round tables bracketing both sides of the makeshift dance floor were blanketed with ice-blue tablecloths, and crystal vases overflowed with indigo-colored flowers. A DJ pumped out the heavy bass beats of current Punjabi music and Bollywood songs while a few people took advantage of the open dance floor. Waitstaff in crisp-collared shirts and black vests lingered in the crowd with the last of the fusion food appetizers.

Ajay grabbed a samosa pinwheel from a passing tray and popped it into his mouth.

“Still eating?” Zail asked as he sidled next to him. “After the mehendi event on Thursday night, then the Indian American Idol party—”

“The sangeet.”

“They had a professional sound system and lights, Ajay. That wasn’t a normal sangeet with old ladies singing folk songs. Anyway, after the mehendi, the sangeet, and today’s lunch with silver thaali plates toppling with food, I can’t find any room to eat.”

“More for me, then,” Ajay said. “The food is the best part of this whole wedding.” He eyed a passing tray and decided to forgo the tandoori brie with mint chutney.

“Do you know how much money we’re all burning by being here instead of working in the office?”

“To the penny,” Ajay replied. “But we still have to make an appearance.”

“Next time, I’m going to fake a travel delay. Mom wants you to stop hiding in the corner and come back to the table.”

“I’m not hiding, I’m—”

“Looking for Raj. I know.” The bitterness was obvious in his voice.

Ajay reached out and clasped his brother’s shoulder. “I haven’t made a decision yet or talked to Dad about it. We’ll have to do this together, anyway. Dad, you, Hem, and me.”

Zail’s eyebrows furrowed and his frown deepened. “The fact that you’re considering it at all is what bothers me. She’s why we lost Sahar. That should be enough of a reason not to even give her the time of day.”

“Sahar is why we lost Sahar, Zail.”

“It was a setup,” he said through gritted teeth. “The security report is super vague, isn’t it? You have a name of her potential relative, and a bunch of possible connections, but no family pictures, no birth certificates, nothing concrete. I’m telling you, bhai. There is no way Sahar’s uncle works for WTA. I would’ve known about it. We went to school together. We worked together. Raj’s intel is wrong or she’s played you.”

“Raj had nothing to gain by getting rid of Sahar. And Sri, our head of security, couldn’t find anything that disproved Raj’s findings.”

“Sri is an idiot and you should’ve fired him the minute he screwed up.”

Zail had never hidden his feelings about Sri. The fact that Raj agreed with him and had said something similar at the gala rubbed Ajay the wrong way. Maybe it was time to call Sri in and transfer him to a different department. It was just that the man was his first hire since he started the department. Since Ajay had brought him on to lead the cyber security team, Sri had always been loyal. Maybe something had changed.

A group of aunties wearing brightly colored saris and anarkalis giggled behind their hands as they passed. Ajay could barely control an eye roll. He looked over at his brother.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like Sri or Raj, and you believed in Sahar, but there was nothing more we could do. Come on. Let’s get back before we’re accosted.”

They wove through tables and dancers until they reached the secluded corner where Uncle Frankie had put the entire Singh family. Ajay’s parents sat at one end of the table while Hem and Mina sat next to them.

Ajay’s mother looked regal in a pale cream and gold salwar kameez with a thick gold choker and matching gold earrings. She pointed at Ajay and then at his father. “Come sit next to your papa. He’s in a sour mood.”

Deepak Singh, the genius businessman who’d created some of the most groundbreaking location technology in the world, sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his broad tuxedo-clad chest. “I don’t understand why I can’t go sit with Frankie. Tusi mainu mara rahe ho. You’re killing me, woman.”

“Deepak, if you go sit with him you’ll want to drink whiskey and smoke cigars. The doctor was very clear about your restrictions. Stop whining, otherwise I really will kill you.”

“Dad, we’ll have your whiskey for you,” Ajay said with a grin. He sat next to the man who’d taught him how to drink. “When is dinner? Do we get to eat right away or is Uncle Frankie going to have, like, ten relatives toast the bride and groom first? Those speeches are so long.”

Ajay’s mom leaned across his father and gripped his hand. Her wrists full of bangles rang as they hit the tabletop. “You can’t go until you meet Shilpa Aunty’s niece.”

“Here we go again,” Zail mumbled next to him.

A buzzing interrupted their flow of conversation, and Ajay pulled out his cell phone from his breast pocket. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the rest of his family was checking their various devices, as well.

“That’s me,” Mina said. She reached into a tiny pouch that matched the mirror work on her salwar kameez to retrieve her phone. “Oh. Raj is here.”

Even as she said the words, Ajay spotted the woman he’d been waiting to see. Anticipation unfurled in his gut as he took her in. She wasn’t as tall as some of the other Punjabi women in attendance, but like always, her heels gave her formidable stature. Her gown flowed around her as she paused at the entrance where Uncle Frankie was still greeting the last of the arrivals. Ajay watched as she folded her hands together as if to say namaste, and then handed over an envelope.

Ajay didn’t realize he was standing until Zail said his name in a sharp tone.

“Don’t even think about bringing her here to sit with us.”

“No, I—” An older man went over to talk to Frankie and Raj.

If he was going to speak with her, he needed to look inconspicuous. The old man next to him would have to do as his excuse. “Papa, I want to introduce you to someone. Can you take a walk with me?”

Deepak Singh’s face brightened, and without asking Ajay’s mother what she would prefer, he was out of his chair like a shot. “Challo, puttar. Let’s go.”

Ajay held out his arm for his father to hold.

“Ajay,” Mina called out. Her expression was solemn. “She’s more delicate than she wants people to think. Be kind.”

“This is business, Mina. Nothing more.” He led his father slowly across the ballroom to where Raj stood talking with Uncle Frankie and the second gentleman.

“Your mother is hovering,” his father said. “I was about to go mad.”

“I could tell. Now as repayment, I need you to be on your best behavior.”

“I am always on my best behavior, even when I am being used by my grown son to talk to a pretty girl.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Hem gave me a little bit of background, Ajay. I know your mind better than you think. Just remember that your mother is like a vulture when it comes to these things. She’s going to ask questions.”

“It’s nice to know that some things never change.”

They approached the trio near the entrance. It took all of Ajay’s concentration not to freeze when Raj’s eyes met his.

She looked even more stunning up close. Her makeup was muted, and in the center of her perfectly arched brows she wore a simple round rhinestone bindi that matched the trimmings on the purse-pouch that hung from her wrist. Her lips parted slightly as she scanned him head to toe before she turned back to Uncle Frankie.

“Apologies for interrupting,” Ajay said as he moved to stand next to Raj. “Uncle Frankie, I wanted to introduce my father to Ms. Hothi here.”

The old man’s bushy white eyebrows leaped in surprise. “You know each other? I didn’t think your circles crossed.”

“I didn’t think yours did, either, Uncle Frankie.”

“Ms. Hothi invested in an office complex in Long Island City with a few other parties that Peter here put together. We’ve kept in touch for, what is it, Raj, a year now?”

“Just about. Ajay, I’m so glad that you’ve brought this incredibly handsome man over.” She reached out and gripped his father’s hand in both of hers. “The legendary Deepak Singh needs no introduction. I’m so sorry I missed you at the last fundraiser event you were scheduled to attend. Your wife is a lucky woman to have such a dashing hero in a tux at her side.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to each crinkled cheek.

Ajay thought she was laying it on a bit thick, and he was about to say so when he saw his father’s face go ruddy with pleasure.

Well, I’ll be damned, he thought. She’d charmed his father with a few cheesy words.

“Fundraiser?” Deepak asked. “Was it Gen One? I’m disappointed now more than ever that I missed the opportunity to meet such a lovely person such as yourself then. It’s a shame our paths haven’t crossed before?”

“The disappointment is mutual.”

“Deepak, Raj is in the security business,” Peter said. “If Bharat is ever in the market for security services, you should partner up!”

“Most decisions I now defer to my son.”

Ajay’s heart clenched with love and gratitude.

“Dad, as it turns out, Ms. Hothi and I are already in discussions for an... opportunity.”

“Really?” Uncle Frankie leaned forward. “Deepak, what do you think about this? Should the board get involved?”

“Mr. Gupta,” Raj said, her voice holding a strain of surprise. “As a board member, do you question all of Bharat’s decisions? That’s a lot of micromanaging, don’t you think?”

“Well, I—”

“I expect my board to support me and know that I am invested in the success of my company. I’m sure Ajay feels the same.”

Ajay raised an eyebrow at Raj. “Uncle Frankie will have to soon see me as a leader and not the boy running around his backyard during Holi celebrations in the spring.”

“Deepak,” Uncle Frankie said, motioning to both Raj and Ajay. “These kids...”

Deepak put his hands up. “I know. They know more than we do, which is why I am convinced that Bharat will be in good hands. And Raj, I look forward to seeing what you and my son do together.”

The music changed and a slow song filtered through the speakers around the room.

“Oh, that’s the second to last song before dinner service,” Uncle Frankie said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my table. I hope you enjoy the reception tonight!”

He and Peter said their goodbyes before walking toward the left side of the ballroom.

“You two should dance,” Ajay’s father said. He motioned to the couples who had stepped onto the floor. “Take advantage of the music!”

“I have to get you back to the table, too,” Ajay said.

“I’m old, puttar, but I’m strong enough to walk across a room by myself. Raj? Come out to New Jersey sometime. My wife is a wonderful cook. We’ll talk more about business and your family. Okay?”

Something flickered in Raj’s expression, but she held that serene smile on her face. “That sounds lovely. I look forward to it.”

With one last pointed look at Ajay, Deepak Singh shuffled back toward his table. Hem met him halfway across the room, and despite what looked like an obvious protest, Deepak leaned on his eldest son the rest of the way to his chair.

“Well?” Ajay said to Raj. “Care to dance?”

She looked around the room and raised a brow. “You’re going to call attention to yourself. Everyone is probably going to find out the minute they see us together that I’m a soon-to-be divorcée. Not exactly an aunty favorite.”

“Fuck ’em.”

“You know I’m only here because I want a deal,” Raj said.

Ajay leaned in and, with immense satisfaction, saw desire in her eyes. “If you want me, then you’re going to have to work for it.”

She looked down at Ajay’s arm and then met his gaze before she let him lead her to the center of the dance floor.

There was barely an inch between them, and Ajay couldn’t help thinking they fit so incredibly well together. The heat from her hands as they curled over his shoulder and around his palm was deliciously warm. Her hair hung in loose waves to the small of her back, and it brushed over his knuckles. She smelled like honey and spice, and he’d bet if he leaned in to press his lips to the curve of her neck, she’d taste just as delicious.

She tilted her chin up at him as if to ask what he was thinking. Their eyes met as they slowly swayed to the deep timbre of a voice singing a Punjabi love song.

“I wasn’t going to do this, you know,” he said. “Dance with you. Flirt with you. Be with you. You’re now a potential investment.”

Her husky laugh was like smooth bourbon sliding through his system. “Darling, no one is asking you to be a gentleman. I often find that when Punjabis act chivalrous, they’re lions wearing sheep’s clothing. Other than your father when he was defending you, I haven’t met any other who has proven me wrong.”

“We’ve come a long way since your childhood in the motherland,” Ajay said in Punjabi.

She looked up at him, surprise in her expression.

He spun her in a circle and brought her closer. “Oh yes. I know how to look into someone’s bio, too. You haven’t gone back since you were eighteen and have very little connection with the Indian community here.”

“I can still spot a lion when I see one.”

“Soni,” he said, knowing that the Punjabi word for beautiful fit her more perfectly than any English endearment could. “Lion or not, I don’t let people play me. I thought we’d established that.”

He skimmed his fingertips up to touch the exposed skin between her shoulder blades before sliding his hand down again to rest at the small of her back.

“Ajay, if you’re going to lead, then don’t hesitate in business, either. Stop letting people like Frankie get away with making comments like that in public. If you don’t, he will continue to undermine your authority and other people will start doing the same thing.”

He hummed in agreement and felt her falter in his arms for a moment.

“What?”

“You’re not going to brush me off? Tell me that you don’t need advice from a woman?”

Ajay leaned in until his lips were a breath away from the shell of her ear. “Who am I to turn down sound advice? I need all of the help I can get.”

Her breath hitched, and when Ajay pulled back, he could tell that there was heat in her eyes. Her desire only fueled his own.

“Now that,” she said slowly, “was a damn good line.”

Before he could pull her closer and screw both of their reputations, the song ended and Raj slipped out of his arms. She gave a regal nod and turned to the opposite end of the ballroom.

“I think my table is over on that side,” she said.

“I’ll escort you.”

“No need. People will talk.”

“They’ll talk anyway.”

Ajay tucked her hand under his arm and walked with her in silence. They shared one last look before Ajay turned and crossed the expanse of the ballroom to his family.

His parents eyed him with interest, even as Ajay pulled out a chair and sat down.

Ajay’s father leaned over and said, “I like her.”

“She’s definitely an interesting woman.”

“What’s the deal?” he asked. “The business deal, I mean.”

His father had a twinkle in his eyes. The old man was up to something, but Ajay relented and answered the question, starting with the type of services she provided and ending with the meeting that took place earlier in the week.

“What are you thinking, puttar?”

“Papa, I haven’t decided.” He lowered his voice. Even though his brothers and mother were distracted by the waitstaff delivering food, he wanted to make sure they couldn’t hear him. “I want the family to be aligned on this but Zail is... not.”

“Being aligned is not always going to be possible and you know it.” His father picked up a triangle of naan. “But for what it’s worth, I think it’s a solid business investment.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said, and then switched to Punjabi. “Bharat didn’t grow to its current size because I made safe decisions. Your gut is telling you this is a good risk, and you should listen.”

Ajay nodded. “You’re not matchmaking, are you?”

His father grinned, and the smile was a carefree, beautiful sight to see. It had been way too long since Deepak Singh smiled.

“Papa,” he said after a moment. “She’s still married. And now we’re looking to buy her company.”

His father’s response was a shrug. “I really like her. Possibilities aren’t just for technology and science. They’re for people, too. Raj Hothi is a smart possibility for you. Just because she has a past doesn’t make her any less qualified.”

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself,” Ajay said.

“No, you’re just not keeping up.”

He leaned into his wife’s side to take her naan. They shared a familiar look filled with love.

Ajay began eating the food that had been placed in front of him even as his thoughts continued to center around Raj. He was interested, but that was where it would have to end. He had an obligation to his family, to his legacy.