Hello guys, sorry i haven’t replied to your comments, on my previous update, as yet. Will be doing that tonight. Here is the next chapter. Hope you like this too. Enjoy Reading 😀
Love
Anvita
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Link to Previous Chapter : Episode 2
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I am all about self – determination. Will. Control. I determine my path in life. I decide my failures and successes. Screw fate. Destiny can kiss my ass. If I want something badly enough, I can have it. If I focus, sacrifice, there is nothing I can’t do.
What is the point of my posturing, you ask? Why do I sound like the featured speaker at a self-help convention? What exactly am I trying to say?
In a nutshell: I control my feelings. My feelings don’t control me. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for the last hour and a half.
See me there, at my desk, mumbling like a goddamn mental patient who has run off from a mental hospital?
That’s me reminding myself of my sacred beliefs that have gotten me this far in life. The ones that have made me an uncontested success in the office, by keeping pleasure and business separate. The ones that have never failed me before and the ones that I am dying to throw out the window. All because of this woman, who is walking back and forth across me mouthing away some legal words which I don’t understand at all.
Ragini Oh-I-Reject-Goodlooking-Guys Gadodia.
Talk about a curveball.
The way I see it, I could still try. Technically speaking, I met Ragini at the pub, even before I knew she’s Dhruv’s friend and that she is going to be working with me. So, if I agree to transaction, without having the complete knowledge of it, then that agreement stands null and void. That means I could forgo the pact with Dhruv and retain the “random hook-up” status which was my original intention.
What? I’m a businessman; it’s my job to find loopholes.
So, in theory at least, I could definitely have some quality time with her (if you know, what I mean) and not undermine my own personal laws of nature. The problem with that strategy, of course, is what happens after.
The longing glances, the hopeful eyes, the pathetic attempts to make me jealous. The supposedly “accidental” meetings, the questions about my plans, the seemingly casual walks past my office door. All of which would inevitably escalate into a breakdown due to my non-responsive behaviour
Some women can handle a one-night stand. Others can’t. And I have definitely been on the wrong end of those who can’t.
It isn’t pretty.
So, you see, no matter how badly I want to, no matter how hard the little head is trying to lead me down that road, it’s not the kind of thing I want to bring into my place of business. My second home.
It’s not going to happen. Period.
That’s it. End of discussion.
Case closed.
Ragini Gadodia is officially scratched off my list of potentials. She is forbidden, untouchable, and transferred to the never-gonna-happen. Right next to my friends’ ex-girlfriends, my best friends’ sisters and my sister’s best friends
Well, that last category is a bit of a grey area. When I was twenty, Arohi’s best friend, used to spend most of the time at our house. We had a short fling and thank god, that Arohi never found out about it or else she would have brought down hell.
Anyway, where was I?
Oh, right. I was explaining that I have come to the unequivocal decision that Ragini Gadodia is on my no-fling/no – one night stand list. And I’m okay with that. Really.
And I almost believe myself.
Right up until I look up again and see her speaking.
Sweet God.
She’s wearing glasses. The dark-rimmed kind. The kind that Preity Zinta wore in Kal ho Na Ho. How do I know about that movie, well that is because I have a sister, who is pretty much used to getting things her way and that means, she forced me to watch that movie. So anyway, coming back to the point, those glasses would be geeky-looking and unattractive on most women. But not her. On the bridge of that tiny nose, framing those long-lashed beauties, with her hair swept to one side, they are nothing short of s*xy.
As she starts to speak, my mind is suddenly filled with every possible fantasy and scenarios in which I could be with her. While all this is going on in my head, she’s still talking.
What the hell is she saying?
I close my eyes to stop myself from staring at her glistening lips. So I can actually process the words coming out of her mouth:
“…so would you be able to furnish all these documents.” She stops and looks at me expectantly.
“I’m sorry, I was distracted. You want to sit down and run that by me again?” I ask, my voice never betraying the desire inside me.
Desire is a curse, really.
She sits in the chair across from my desk and crosses her legs.
Don’t look at the legs. Don’t look at the legs.
Too late.
They’re toned, tan, and smooth-looking as silk. I move my eyes from her legs and force my eyes to hers.
“So,” she begins again, “These are the list of documents I will be requiring to handle your account. Also, I will need the free access to all your files pertaining to the any conversation that has happened between you and Mr Singh up until today”
“There is no way that I will be giving you access to my emails and conversations,” I answer, looking down at the papers on my desk to stem the flow of fantasies the sound of her voice calls forth from my deviant mind.
“Mr Maheshwari.”
“What?”
“I tell my clients what I will require from them, to save their reputation and their company, and they do as I say”
“Really?”
“Also, I’d like be frank, you are hanging by a thread here, and Mr Singh has a solid base. Their company is small, but that’s part of what will work in their favour, if they play their cards right. What they don’t have is the capital. And to be frank, money is the only thing that will make you win this case.”
She stands and leans over my desk to pass me the folder. I’m assailed with a sweet but flowery scent. It’s delectable, alluring—not like an old lady’s whose perfume practically chokes you to death when she walks by you at the post office. I have the urge to sink my face into her hair and inhale deeply.
But I resist and open the folder instead.
“This is the list of documents and information of what I have and what —”
“You need.” I nod.
“Correct”
I look over the work she’s done so far. It’s good. Detailed and informative but focused. Slowly, my brain—the one above my shoulders, anyway—starts to shift gears. If there’s one topic that has any hope of derailing me from thoughts about us in tangled bed sheets, its work. A good deal. I can definitely smell potential here.
It doesn’t smell as delicious as Ragini Gadodia, but its close.
“I can see, you are very thorough with your work, Ms Gadodia. And, I like it when people are good with their work”
Her eyes narrow just a bit. “Thank you. So we’ll start from tomorrow”
I smirk, “Of course. Do I look like the type who would want to hamper my company’s reputation?”
She rolls her eyes and smiles. This time, I just can’t look away.
“No, of course not, Mr. Maheshwari.”
I motion for her to sit back down, and she does. “Well, I’d say from the looks of this, we’ll have fun working together. And, please, it’s Lakshya. Can I address you by your first name Ragini?”
“I suppose you just did that, Lakshya” she said as she sat opposite me.
I lean back in my chair appraising her. My eyes rake over her from head to toe in a completely unprofessional manner. I know it. But I just can’t seem to make myself give a damn.
“So, how did you celebration go last night?” I ask, referring to our brief meeting in the pub the other night
She gives a small laugh, and I stir — again. If this keeps up, I’m going to have one hell of a case of blue balls when I get home.
“It was good.” She shrugs, then says, “I guessed who you were when you told me your name and the name of your firm.”
“You’ve heard of me?” I ask, truly curious.
“Sure. I don’t think there’s many in this field who haven’t read about MW Group’s golden boy in Business Weekly…or Page Three for that matter.”
Her last words refer to the gossip columns on whose pages I frequently appear.
“If the only reason you blew me off is because I work at MW Group,” I say, “I can have my resignation submitted within an hour.”
She laughs and then, with a faint blush coloring her cheeks, replies, “No, that wasn’t the only reason. I am sort of seeing someone already”. “But aren’t you glad now that I turned you down? I mean, it would have been pretty awkward if something had happened between us. Don’t you think?”
My face is completely serious as I tell her, “Would’ve been worth it.”
She raises her brows in doubt. “Even though we’ll be working with each other now?”
I merely raise an eyebrow, and she shakes her head and chuckles again.
With a feral smile, I ask her, “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”
“No. Not at all. But do you talk all your employees this way? Because I have to tell you, you’re leaving yourself wide open for a s*xual harassment case.”
I can’t help the smile that comes to my lips. She’s such a surprise. Sharp. Quick. I have to think before I speak to her. I like it.
I like her.
“No, I don’t treat all my employees this way. Ever. Only one, who I haven’t stopped thinking about since last night and to be fair, she’s not my employee”
“You’re incorrigible,” she says in a way that tells me she thinks I’m cute.
I’m a lot of things. Cute isn’t one of them.
“I see something I want, and I go after it. I’m used to getting what I want.”
You’ll never hear a truer statement about me than that. But let’s put things on hold for a minute here, okay? So I can give you the full picture.
See, my mom, Annapurna Maheshwari, always wanted a big family—three, maybe four kids. But Arohi is six years older than me. Six years may not seem like a lot to you, but to my mother it was a lifetime. When my sister was four, my mother had pretty much given up hope of ever having any more kids.
And then guess what? I came along.
Surprise.
I was her miracle baby. Her precious angel from God. Her granted wish. Her answered prayer. And she wasn’t the only one who thought so. My father, Durgaprasad Maheshwari, was thrilled, just as grateful to have another child—and a son at that. And Arohi, was ecstatic to finally have a baby brother.
I was what my family had wanted and waited five years for. I was the little prince. I could do no wrong. There was nothing I wanted that I couldn’t have. I was the most handsome, the most brilliant. There was no one kinder, none sweeter than me. I was loved beyond words—doted on and catered to.
So, if you think I’m arrogant? Selfish? Spoiled? You’re probably right. But don’t hold it against me. It’s not my fault. I am a product of how I was raised.
Now that that’s out of the way—back to my office. This next part is big.
“And I think you should know, I want you, Ragini.”
See the flush on her cheeks, the slight surprise on her face? See how her face turns serious, and she meets my eyes and then looks down at the floor?
I’m getting to her. She wants me too. She’s fighting it. But it’s there. I could have her. I could lead her right where she is dying to go.
The knowledge makes me swallow a groan as the guy downstairs reacts with a vengeance. I want to walk up to her and kiss her until she can’t stand. I want to slide my tongue between those ripe lips until her knees give out from under her. I want to pick her up, wrap her legs around my waist, lean her up against the wall and…
“Hey, there guys. All good?”
Thank you, Dhruv. Way to kill the moment.
Ragini gets up from her chair, her shoulders stiff, her back straight. She inches toward Dhruv and refuses to look me in the eyes. “So, thanks for your time, Mr. Maheshwari. I shall see you tomorrow.”
“Why are you leaving so early, stay for a while? Let’s have lunch together”
“Sorry sweetheart, I have to rush for another meeting” she said as she gave a light kiss on his cheek “Dinner. Tomorrow Night. The Banyan Tree at 8”
“I’ll pick you up” Dhruv said to her
I raise my brows suggestively at her body language. I love that she’s flustered—and that I’m the one who did it to her.
Before she’s out the door, my voice stops her. “Ragini?”
She turns to me, her eyes questioning.
I point to myself. “It’s Lakshya.”
She smiles. Recovering herself. Her natural confidence finding its way back into her eyes.
Then she meets my gaze full on. “Right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lakshya.”
Once she’s out the door, I say only to myself, “Oh, yes. Yes, you will.”
And then I saw Dhruv looking at me, actually glaring at me
“You promised.”
“I wasn’t aware, what I was promising about, so it doesn’t count.”
“She is my close friend and anyway, she’s already seeing someone. Don’t do it Lakshya”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I say with a laugh
“Lakshya, I am serious”
“I will see you tonight, at the pub” I say and start to leave
As I check my briefcase to leave for my meeting, I realize this attraction—no, that’s not a strong enough word—this need that I have for Ragini Gadodia isn’t just going to go away. I can try and fight it, but I’m only a man, for God’s sake. Left unresolved, my desire for her could turn my office, the place I love, into a torture chamber of s*xual frustration.
I can’t let that happen.
So, I have three options: I can quit. I could get Ragini to quit. Or I can entice her to share one profoundly pleasurable night with me. Get it out of both of our systems—consequences be damned.
Guess which one I’m going to pick?