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“Raashi some of these comments are concerning. We are not going to take it lightly. You need to do this.” Nanna didn’t look at her as he said it. “Anyway, you can’t go around calling people a whore.”
“Manwhore.” She glared at her father. “God forbid you ever take my side.”
Fraught silence descended on the room as father and daughter stared at each other, a wealth of memories clogging the air.
“You were going to apologise anyway,” Ram broke the silence finally.
“I was not going to publicly humiliate myself.” Her hands clenched at the thought of what they wanted her to do. It brought back too many memories of a past she’d long buried.
“You won’t this time too,” her brother promised. “I’ll be there. We’ll work it to everyone’s satisfaction.”
Raashi shook her head, mutinously.
“Harsh is a good guy, Raash,” Ram sighed. “He won’t make this harder than it needs to be. Let’s just get it done, okay? If not for me or Nanna, then do it for Veda’s sake?”
Fuck it, she thought gloomily. She was clearly not winning this battle when her brother brought out the emotional blackmail hammer. She would do anything for Veda’s sake.
“Fine,” she muttered. “We’ll do it tonight.”
Seven
HARSH
A familiar fatigue dogged him as he forced himself out of his car and into the party he needed to attend tonight. Needed, not wanted. The world would be surprised to know just how little Harsh wanted to party nowadays. Doing what Nanda Garu wanted was going to be a piece of cake.
“HARSH!” The boisterous shout had him turning towards the ruckus just before a muscled body slammed into him. The only thing keeping him from crashing to the ground was his bodyguard, Natraj.
“Easy Vinayak,” he laughed, shoving his friend off him.
“Now the party’s going to explode.” Vinayak made a whooshing sound, flapping his hand in the air.
Harsh eyed him warily. Stoned, his friend was fucking stoned. The weariness settled like a cloak over his shoulders again. He wanted to be back home watching a movie or listening to music in the privacy of his bedroom. Not here, getting thumped on his back for existing by friends who were blown out of their minds. Or getting checked out by rather rabid looking women. He turned his back on them, so they didn’t get any bold ideas.
“Dude, there are some smoking hot chicks inside.” Vinayak pointed a thumb at the independent house behind them. “Go get them tiger.”
Harsh sighed. His inner tiger had turned into a pussy cat. But he had an image to maintain, so he said, “Sounds like fun. Let’s go.”
They made their way in, people thronging around them asking for selfies, or just wanting to make conversation. Everyone thought that if they hung out with him long enough, some of the shine of his charmed life would rub off on them too. Harsh wondered what they’d say if they knew that the shine was all there was. Beneath it was just a lump of coal.
“Drink?” Vinayak hollered over the pounding beat of the music.
Harsh nodded. “Vodka on the rocks,” he shouted back. He leaned against the bar as Vinayak got his drink organised and scanned the dimly lit, crowded space. This was a large house, but his friend had managed to pack it to the gills. Half of Hyderabad’s social scene must be here.
“Excuse me?” The girl wore an orange lace dress that left very little to the imagination. “Could I get a selfie with you?”
Harsh squashed his grimace and smiled at her. “Sure.” He posed, the smile and angle coming naturally to him, a second skin he donned, and one that some days he never took off.
“I really loved your movie,” Orange Dress simpered, naming an older release.
“Thanks,” he said briefly, going back to scanning the room. He saw an acquaintance across the room and raised a hand in shared greeting.
“I thought you were so hot in the swimming pool scene.”
Harsh ignored that comment. That scene had been a mistake but one that he’d have to take ownership of. He’d honestly thought the brief glimpse of a sliver of his butt wouldn’t be such a big deal. But a year along, and it was still all people talked about. He could see Nanda Garu’s point.
“In fact,” Orange Dress drawled on obliviously, her voice bordering on coy. “If you want to go swimming with me later tonight, we can make it happen.”
“No thanks.” Harsh sipped from his drink, pointedly looking over her shoulder.
