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“Listen Manwhore, no one needs your relentless sexing up either. Just because that’s the only thing you’re capable of, doesn’t mean it’s the only thing you need to do.” She smiled, tauntingly, the champagne fizzing through her bloodstream and egging her on. “Not all women want a walking, talking dick. Some of us like the guy to possess more than a single, functioning brain cell.”
He stilled, his entire body locking down.
A breathy gasp brought her to her senses. All around them conversation ceased as people turned to look at them. Raashi hadn’t bothered keeping her voice down like Harsh had. Curvy ditz was staring at her with her hands over her mouth. Veda seemed to be channeling her husband and looked murderous. And Harsh…Harsh’s blank, impassive expression told her nothing and yet, she read every unsaid word and thought in it.
“I, I, I –“ she stammered. She didn’t get a word out past that before Veda’s hand curled around her upper arm and started dragging her out of there. Low murmurs picked up behind them as they walked through the crowded room, people parting for them in silence.
Raashi glanced back to where Harsh still stood. He was looking at her, that same formidably impassive expression on his face, his entire body motionless. A pang of shame rushed through her and she opened her mouth to call out an apology, but before she could do so, Harsh turned away, deliberately giving her his back.
Veda led her out of the theatre, her guards falling into line around them so they could get into their car without getting mobbed. The door shut on them ensconcing them into the quiet of the plush, still car.
“Akka, I-“
“No.” For once, her calm, sweet sister sounded furious. Quietly, dignifiedly furious but furious, nonetheless. “You crossed a line, Raashi. There is no excuse for it.”
Raashi sank back into her seat, feeling small and ashamed. “I know. I’ll apologise,” she said quietly.
“You will,” Veda confirmed, her pretty face set in hard lines. “First thing in the morning.”
Fuck her life, Raashi thought gloomily. She was never drinking champagne again.
Five
HARSH
Harsh woke the next morning with the hangover to end all hangovers. He groaned into his pillow, burying his aching head deeper into the soft mound of it. The high of his successful premiere was marred by the vitriol of Raashi’s outburst. But he’d put it out of his mind and worked to ensure no one at the party remembered it either by the end of the evening. If there was one thing Harsh was good at, it was deflecting attention with charm.
His alarm went off beside the bed and he groaned again. He had a meeting with one of the top producers in the industry in an hour to hear his script for a new movie. Unlike with the Hulk Version 2.0 script, this was one that Harsh was genuinely interested in. It was a stark departure from his usual coming of age romantic comedies and he was itching to sink his teeth into a role with meat.
He forced himself out of bed and into the shower, making a mental note to fit in a gym session later in the evening. He’d slept through his morning routine. A boiling hot shower later, he emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist and another one slung around his neck to find his sister and sister-in-law camped out on his bed.
He glanced from one to the other, taking a wary step toward his cupboard. “Is this an intervention? Because if it is, I need coffee.”
“No.” Priyanka popped an almond into her mouth and chewed, watching him like an inquisitive squirrel with a nut in her mouth. “We just wanted to see how you were doing.”
Harsh paused, a white shirt from his arsenal of white shirts in his hand. “Why?” he asked baldly.
“You’ve seemed a little…” Veda trailed off before adding. “Off.”
“Off?” Harsh echoed, shrugging into his shirt and buttoning it up. “Off how? Off my rocker? Off in the head? Off like a spoilt fruit?”
“Just not yourself,” Veda interjected before he could keep coming up with options. “And also,” she flushed. “I’m sorry about Raashi’s behaviour last night.”
“It’s okay,” he said automatically. It wasn’t like it was anything new with Raashi. But then, he reflected, she only seemed to have that reaction to him. And he to her. “And you don’t need to be sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have brought her,” Veda insisted. “I know the two of you don’t get along and I shouldn’t have forced the issue. I just-“
Harsh wandered into the bathroom to pull on his underwear and ripped jeans. “You just?” he called out, curiosity getting the better of him.
“I just wanted two people I loved to get along,” Veda answered, sounding defeated. “Don’t worry. I won’t do it again.”
He met his horrified gaze in the mirror. Raashi and he would never get along. The only emotion she incited in him was rage and that was no foundation for any kind of friendship.
He ran a brush through his hair, making a note to see his stylist for a trim soon and left the bathroom, snagging one of his fifty odd sunglasses on the way.
“It’s fine,” he told Veda, giving her a quick one-armed hug. “Don’t stress about it. Is there anything else?” he asked. “Because I need to leave for a narration.”
“Yes.” Priyanka offered him her little pouch of almonds.
