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“He shouldn’t have to.” It took a moment for her to realise that the words came from her. Raashi wanted to shrink back in her chair as everyone stared at her, but she forced herself to her feet and met Suryakanth Kodela’s furious glare. She’d made this mess; it was but right that she clean it up. She may not like Harsh, but she liked to be fair. And this moment stank of being unfair.
“Surely Uncle,” she said. “Surely you know your son better than that.”
“You obviously know him better than me. You only called him a manwhore, no?” Suryakanth Uncle taunted, slipping back into Telugu.
“I did,” she answered in the same language. “But knowing he’ll sleep with anything that moves doesn’t mean he’s a toxic abuser who’s setting the rabid mob of his fans on me. Even I know that much about Harsh. How come you don’t?”
Her sister’s sharp intake of breath told her she might have gone too far. But Raashi didn’t care. Too far was exactly where she needed to go right now. There was nothing to be gained by half measures.
“Raashi.” Her father’s voice was quiet but firm. “Enough.”
“Nanna, this is stupid,” she told him, refusing to be cowed. “And no, it’s not enough.”
“Yes,” Suryakanth Kodela agreed with her. “It is stupid. But it is stupidity that both of you have created, no? So now what are you going to do about it? How will you fix it?”
Feeling a little outmaneuvered, Raashi stumbled over her answer. “We just need to wait for it die down.”
“That’s not going to happen Chinna,” her brother Ram said gently. “Not on its own. The situation needs to be managed.”
“How?” Veda asked. “Should we call Virat?”
Virat Jha was Agastya Kodela’s best friend and, his fixer. If they thought he was needed, Raashi was in real trouble.
Agastya didn’t answer his wife. He was staring at Harsh who was looking at his phone, a pained expression on his face. “What is it?”
“My PR team is here. They want to talk to us about damage control.”
“The same team who didn’t even know you needed damage control?” Agastya asked acidly.
“That was my shithead of a manager who thought he was using this to my advantage,” Harsh replied quietly. “Ex-manager now.”
Raashi’s father nodded approvingly at him. “Good for you. No point in having incompetent idiots working for you.”
Raashi rolled her eyes. Of course, her father had time to dole out business advice at a time like this. His priorities had always been crystal clear.
“Bring them in,” Agastya told Harsh now. “Let’s hear what they have to say.”
“No!” Harsh sounded panicked.
“Why not?” Ram asked, suspicion darkening his face. “You don’t want us to hear what they have to say?”
From Harsh’s expression, Raashi knew Ram Anna had hit the nail on the head. Perversely, now she had to know what it was that he was hiding. Maybe that damn slipper had given her a concussion. What did she care about Harsh Kodela’s alpha asshole image issues?
The already crowded room’s door opened and a couple of terrified looking people entered. The PR team, she supposed.
Suryakanth Kodela folded his arms over his chest and lowered his chin like a bull getting ready to charge.
“Well,” he barked. “Let’s hear it. What’s the idea?”
The older man out of the two took a deep breath and seemed to find some semblance of a spine. “Sir, given the current situation and its impact on both parties, Mr. Harsh Kodela and Ms. Raashi Gadde-“
“Faster,” Raashi’s father snapped, interrupting the other man. “And use smaller sentences. We don’t have the whole year to listen to your speech.”
“We think we should pitch it as a lover’s quarrel,” the man squeaked, the words erupting in short bursts.
A lover’s quarrel? That would mean…Raashi pivoted to look at Harsh who was staring at her, a similar look of horror on his face.
“Noooooo!” she screeched.
