Abhimanyu looked at his watch for the eleventh time in the last five minutes. The conversation in the board room between his father, sister, and the vendor was not going well. They were spinning their wheels and not getting anywhere a near closure on the deal. He flew in that morning, skipping practice when his father insisted he attend the meeting in person.
The conversation was about refreshing the furniture in the main chain of hotels, and they could not agree on the cost.
Abhimanyu counted to ten before dropping his phone on the table rather loudly. The conversation between the two older men came to a halt.
“What are you doing?” his sister hissed from one side.
“I don’t have all day.” He stood up adjusting his suit jacket hugging his broad shoulders.
“Abhimanyu,” his father issued a warning.
Abhimanyu walked over to where his father sat and looked at the vendor whose family had supplied furniture to their chain of hotels for decades.
“Your increase in the cost is unacceptable. I made a trip here to try and work out a better deal for our company, not fund your next palace home.”
“Mr Birla, what is he saying?” The older man looked at his father.
“Look at me, Mr Sanai. I am the one talking to you.” Abhimanyu’s tone demanded the room’s attention.
“I walk away if we don’t agree to my offer.” The older man was playing hard to get, but Abhimanyu had a plan.
“Fine. What do you think will happen if you walk away?”
Abhimanyu walked around the conference room, his eyes on the older man. He could feel the heat from his sister’s gaze but did not look at her.
“Your luxurious hotels will have old furniture, and it will be a poor experience for your customers.” The man snorted.
“Mr Sanai, what do you do with the old furniture that you take away from our hotels?” Abhimanyu stopped pacing.
The older man shifted in his seat. “It is old furniture. What would I do with it?”
Abhimanyu shrugged. “If I were you, I would be selling the old furniture, which, by the way, for many people, is top-of-the-line furniture. A savvy businessman like you would do that. Aren’t you?”
Abhimanyu’s father looked shocked, and he heard his sister let out an angry huff.
“Tell me, Mr Sanai, should I be paying you more when you are already making money off of the furniture that we get rid of and pay you to get rid of?”
“That material is crap for you. It shouldn’t matter to you what I do with it after.” The older man was feeling the stress.
Abhimanyu looked at him for a long moment and said, “I am willing to look the other way about what you have been doing with our old furniture, but going forward, we are not going to buy any furniture from you.”
“What?” The man stood up.
Abhimanyu looked at him for a long moment. “Yes, you heard me right, we will not be buying the furniture from you. Instead, we will rent it from you and will want a new set of furniture for rental every three years.”
The man was completely taken aback. “I don’t understand.”
Abhimanyu walked over to where he was sitting and pushed a folder that was in front of him toward the man.
“Take your time, read through my proposal, and get back to me if we have a deal within the next twenty-four hours. If not, I have a few dealers from Vietnam ready to ship furniture tomorrow and take my old stuff. I am offering you this deal only because my father likes you.”
With that, he gave his father a nod and walked out of the conference room. His job was done, and he knew his father would be content even if he didn’t show up to another meeting for a few months. He didn’t intend to until he was finished with the current tour.
“Abhi,” he heard his sister, Anisha, call out to him.
He stopped without turning around when he heard the fast click of her heels as she sprinted toward him.
“Anu, I sent you the details of my proposal. Close it for me.”
“Are you leaving already?”
“I have to go. I have a concert in less than a week.”
His sister stepped in front of him and asked. “What happened between you and Arya?”
“I fired her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes.
Abhimanyu knew where the conversation was going. “I have to go.”
“One more thing. I filed for the divorce.” Her sister’s voice was low.
“Good. Did you hear back from the other side?”
She nodded. “He is going to sign a settlement agreement. Thank you for talking to Dad about it.”
“Dad knew you were unhappy but wanted to make sure you were making the right decision.” Abhimanyu smiled at his sister before walking away.
His sister called out to him about how she would set up a meeting the following week and that he had to attend. He knew he wasn’t going to step into the office for a few months.
As he made his way to the elevator, a young woman walked past him wearing a saree. The moment he saw the stranger, the image of his now lead singer flashed in front of him. The memory of her draped in a beautiful saree flashed in front of him from the first concert of the tour.
He felt a zap of excitement pass through him at the thought of seeing her. The way her beautiful eyes threatened to burn him down with the heat in her glare, the way her cheeks would be flushed with annoyance, and the way she would dig her teeth into her lower lip like she was afraid she would say the wrong thing.
He shook his head as he stepped into the elevator and closed his eyes as if to fight the image of her beautiful face. He tried to block the sweet smell of her shampoo that filled the room along with her magical voice.
There was no denying that she had by far the most magical voice for a female singer. He leaned his back against the elevator wall, her voice replaying in his ears, and he felt the calm he did every time she sang.
The ding of the elevator brought him out of his state of bliss, and he shook away the unidentified shudders that passed through him. He pushed away the image of the woman who was off-limits for more than one reason.
One of them being the fact that her father was the one who ruined any chances of him making it in the Indian music industry because of an argument.
How was the angel born to an unforgiving man like her father was a mystery?
A magnificent beauty with a magical voice.
“Stop, Abhimanyu,” he hissed under his breath as if in warning to where his mind started to wander.
Two hours later and a short flight back to where his band was, he walked into the immaculate lobby of his hotel, his eyes screening for flaws. He was a perfectionist and needed everything to be of the highest standards.
He nodded at the team at the front desk and walked toward the elevators. As he scanned the space by habit, his eyes met those of a woman who threatened to invade his thoughts lately. His lips twitched up on one end when she held his gaze, and he felt his chest tighten when he saw something he had never seen in her eyes.
Desire…
Abhimanyu held her gaze as he walked toward her, and what he thought he had seen in her eyes disappeared in a flash, and she looked away.
“Akshara, how are you?” he asked as she came to stand next to him in front of the elevator.
“I’m… okay.” She lowered her eyes.
He ran his eyes over her body and picked up on the uneasiness. “Are you really okay?”
She looked up, shock in her eyes. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
“After you,” he said when the elevator doors opened.
She stepped into the elevator, and he noticed how her hand slowly went up to her chest, and her eyes rolled shut like she was trying to calm herself.
“Akshara, what’s wrong?”
She jerked in response to his words and opened her eyes but did not look at him.
“Nothing. Just tired.”
Abhimanyu waited for her to step out when the elevator stopped and watched as she scurried away without another word. He stepped out of the elevator, his eyes on her as he loosened his tie further. He turned to walk toward his room after he saw her go into hers.
Akshara shut the door to her room and crashed her back against it, letting out a gasp. She shook her head as if to wipe away the image in her eyes. The well-groomed man in the elegant suit she had gawked at and gotten excited about at first sight turned out to be Abhimanyu.
She didn’t recognize him in the designer clothes, and the first thought when she saw him before she recognized him was ‘I want that sexy man.’
In one instant, she knew that man would be perfect for her—tall, handsome, sexy, and even charming as he walked through the elegant lobby —the one she had drooled over turned out to be Abhimanyu.
“Open your eyes and look properly next time,” she said to her image in the mirror. She stood looking at her flushed face in the mirror for a long moment and said, “Watch out. He may be talented and good-looking, but he is the wrong guy.”
With those words, she picked up her phone wanting a distraction from her raging thoughts and shuddering body. She called Aarohi to confess the last of the romantic thoughts about the man in the suit, so she could get them out of her mind. Or so she hoped.
“What did you do?” Aarohi asked as soon as she saw her best friend’s flushed face on the video call.
Akshara slapped her palm on her forehead and said, “I am having dirty thoughts about the guy.”
“Which guy?” Aarohi taunted.
“Really? Do I really need this now?” Akshara shook her head.
“I’m sorry. How can I help you, my child?” Aarohi took the tone of an elderly person.
“I saw Abhimanyu in a suit today, and he was not too far away, but I did not realize it was him. And I went wild with my imagination. I imagined taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, and you know…”
Aarohi placed her hand over her mouth. “Wow, you’ve definitely graduated into a woman.”
“Stop it.” She glared at Aarohi.
“I’ve never heard you talk like that about anyone.”
“I know.” Akshara hid her face in her hands.
“Relax. You only looked, and even if you did do that, what’s the big deal? You are single, he is hot and single, a deadly combination.”
“He is the wrong guy,” Akshara blurted.
“Why? He is… again hot, talented, and you love him.”
Akshara let out a sigh. “You say that one more time, and I am hanging up.”
“What about how much you looovvve Abhimanyu,” Aarohi continued to tease her.
“That’s it. You are not helpful at all.”
Aarohi waved her hand. “Wait, don’t hang up. What do you want me to tell you?”
“Tell me I should not think of him like that again,” Akshara demanded.
“I am your best friend. I am not going to lie to you. He is the perfect guy for you, your first love and—”
Akshara ended the call with trembling fingers unable to contain her emotions. She ignored Aarohi’s call and texted her that she would call her back in the morning. The thought that refused to leave her mind all night.
Her first love?