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He shook his head at her. “What?”
“We’ve been asked to speak to you about…” She seemed to be choking a little on her words.
“About?” Harsh raised an eyebrow at her.
Priyanka opened and shut her mouth like a goldfish a few times, but no sound came out of it. Harsh glanced at Veda who looked down at her hands like she’d never seen them before.
“Settling down,” Priyanka spat out finally.
Settling….Oh no! No! No! No!
“No,” he said flatly. He grabbed his wallet and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans.
Priyanka glared at him.
He pointed a finger at the door. “Out,” he said. “Both of you.”
Veda got up with alacrity, power walking towards the door. Priyanka grumbled a little but got to her feet.
“What do I tell the parents?” she asked him.
“I don’t care.”
“They asked me to find out if you were open to meeting girls,” Priyanka argued. “I have to tell them something. If it’s no, then why? Are you seeing someone?”
He put a hand between her shoulder blades and propelled her towards the door, depositing her on the other side of the threshold. “Out!”
“I need an answer to give them!” she wailed.
“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” he informed her, shutting the door in her face. Blessed silence descended on the room.
His phone rang but he silenced it, not bothering to glance at the display. Shoving it into another pocket, he yanked the door open again. Thankfully, no one was loitering in the hallway waiting to ambush him.
He marched through the house, not looking up from his feet so he didn’t accidentally make eye contact with anyone. He heard his mother call out to him but pretended he was busy with his phone and slunk out of the front door, his security following. His favourite car, the Lamborghini, was parked right in front, waiting for him. He slide into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the driveway, the Innova with his security following closely behind.
A few minutes later, he was at his producer’s house. He was escorted into the man’s home office, and he touched the older man’s feet before settling into the chair across from him. Surrounded by gilt and leather, the study was a rather overpowering space.
“Whiskey?” Nanda Garu asked him.
Harsh grinned, declining with a shake of his head. It was ten in the morning, a bit early even for him.
“Good.” The decanter clanked as the other man replaced it without opening it. “That was a test.”
Intrigued, Harsh waited for him to continue.
“This movie is my magnum opus, Harsh.” Nanda Garu leaned forward, his fingers steepling in front of his face. “I won’t allow anything to go wrong with it and that includes recklessness and bad behaviour from my leads. This movie is a dream, my dream.”
“Why don’t you tell me everything?” Harsh invited. “All I know is that it is a family drama. We can discuss the details after I’ve heard the narration.”
Nanda Garu nodded, waving the scriptwriter who was hovering in the background forward. “Tell him the story.”
And Harsh listened to the narration of a lifetime. Excitement surged through him at the depth of the double role being offered to him. If he could nail this, both the good and the bad avatar, his career would leapfrog into the stratosphere. The last line was narrated and quiet descended on the room.
“You want it?” Nanda Garu asked, a small smile on his face.
“I do,” Harsh confirmed. More than he’d wanted anything in the recent future.
“Then it’s yours,” he said. “But on one condition.”
