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“We are already open Nanna,” Agastya replied. “Wide open and taking the hit.”
The room fell silent as the phone rang and rang and rang. Chaitanya Gadde was making a point. He would not pick up a call from an underling.
Agastya smiled, a twist of his lips that had the people in the room shrinking back. His resolve strengthening and his idea clarifying in his mind with this petty power play by the other man.
He silenced Anand Anna’s phone and pulled out his own personal one, a secure number that very few had access to. He read Chaitanya Gadde’s number of Anand Anna’s phone screen and dialed. Like Anna had done, he placed the phone on speaker and put it on the desk so everyone could hear.
Gadde picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Namaste Gadde Garu,” Agastya replied. “Agastya Kodela here.”
“Oh!” The barely suppressed glee in the other man’s voice had Agastya’s hackles rising but he didn’t let it show, not on his face nor in his voice.
“How are you?” His steady, level voice had the people in the room calming.
“I’m fine. How are you? And how is your father? I hope he’s not too distressed by the news today.” The older man’s voice took on an apologetic tone, fake but convincing. “You know how it is. It is our responsibility to break any news we receive.”
“Even news that you haven’t fact checked? Even news that isn’t true?”
“We did not claim it is true. All we did was furnish the allegations and the documents submitted as proof to us before the public. Now, we will let the public and the law take its course.”
“They will find nothing.” Agastya’s voice took on an edge that was rapier sharp.
“Of course,” Chaitanya Gadde said smoothly. “And then we can put all these allegations to rest. In fact, just give me what you have. Send me your proof and I will immediately broadcast it so the story can die a natural death. What do you have?”
Agastya stared at the phone. Gadde knew he had nothing. Actually, he thought Agastya had nothing. Except that wasn’t true…
“What I have, Gadde Garu,” Agastya spoke, his voice smooth as silk and lethal as a cobra’s venom. “Is a proposition for you.”
Four
VEDA
She slunk into her house, head down, hair falling forward to cover her face, shoes dangling from her fingers and her heart tapping a rapid rhythm. She needn’t have worried. The house looked empty.
“Muthu Anna,” she called out to the elderly helper who had been with her family for years. “Where is everyone?” she asked him in Telugu.
“Your father and brother have gone for a meeting. Pedamma is at Krishnama’s daughter’s sreemandham.”
Her mother had gone for a baby shower and the men were doing what they loved to do. Be busy and important. It was on days like this that she missed her little sister, Raashi, a bit more than normal. But Raashi was off getting her Phd in America, making her family obsessively proud, and Veda was home alone again.
She sighed, walking into her room, locking the door behind her and shucking the day-old dress. She didn’t bother with wearing anything before throwing herself onto her massive bed. The satin sheets she loved whispered against her skin and made her inhale deeply. The stress of the morning eased slowly.
Her father was playing with fire. The Kodelas didn’t forgive easily. But then, she thought, her mouth twisting in a wry grin, the Gaddes loved stoking the fires they lit. Ram Anna was a shade better than Nanna, but he would never let their father down in public which meant when it came to taking a stand, he was firmly Team Gadde all the way.
Sleep snuck in slowly, her eyelids growing heavy even as her muddled thoughts slipped out of her tired brain. In the last second, just before she tipped completely into sleep, she remembered the look in Agastya’s eyes as he’d stared at her. Unease struggled to make its presence felt but exhaustion won and Veda allowed it to claim her.
Hours later, she woke, her mouth feeling dry and awful, and her head throbbing like gremlins were hammering away at her temples. She held her watch up to her face and checked the time. Four in the evening. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything all day. She had to get ready and leave for dance practice in an hour. Guruma would smack her if she was late. There was no excuse for anything that hampered their art as far as Guruma was concerned.
Veda pushed herself to her feet and went to her cupboard to pull on tracks and a t-shirt. She would raid the fridge first and then get ready for practice.
Her phone rang as she was leaving her room, but she ignored it, padding through the silent house to the kitchen on the ground floor. It looked like no one had come home yet.
She yanked the fridge door open and stared at the full shelves. Her mother believed in storing food, cooked and uncooked, like she was outwaiting a siege or something. She dug around the sealed containers until she found a bowl of lime rice and pulled it out. Spooning exactly three tablespoons onto a plate, she added a dab of pickle and sat down to eat.
It didn’t take long to scrape the last of it up. She looked longingly at the rest of the bowl but forced herself to put it back. She needed to counter the extra calories of the alcohol she’d consumed last night. Every gram showed when you stepped up on stage and Guruma was not forgiving of any extra weight.
