Shoma Narayanan - An Offer She Can't Refuse

‘I did,’ Darius said. ‘She said she doesn’t need the money.’

‘You need to meet her again,’ Venkat said flatly. ‘I have absolutely no clue about this fund management stuff, and if you’re leaving we’ll go under before you know it. This girl’s really good, and she seemed keen until she met you. I’d have thought it would be the exact opposite—girls usually fall for you on first sight. What in heaven’s name did you do to put her off?’

‘Told her that she’d be working with a bunch of total scumbags,’ Darius said, deadpan. ‘Look, I’m not prepared to let her go, either, but it will be better to give her some time to think things over and change her mind. I’ll make it happen. But in the meantime I’ve got a bunch of other CVs from HR. Some of them with equally impressive track records.’

Venkat grunted. ‘I’ll go through the CVs, but you need to work your magic with this girl. Otherwise you can jolly well put your exciting plans on hold and stay here until you can find someone to replace you. I’m terrible at all this HR sort of stuff—you’re the one who gets everyone eating out of your hand. Make this Mallika an offer she can’t refuse.’

Darius bit back a sigh. Once Venkat decided he wanted something he was like an unstoppable force of nature.

‘I’m a businessman, not a Mafia don,’ he said drily. ‘Let me do it my way. I have an idea on how to win her …’

THE FLAT WAS DARK when Mallika let herself in, and she felt a familiar pang of loss as she put the lights on and surveyed the empty living room. Nothing was the same without her parents, and having a brother who’d completely retreated into his shell emphasised her loneliness rather than reduced it.

It had been a gruelling week. Her job involved meeting builders and visiting construction sites and then spending hours hunched over her computer, calculating the possible return she’d get from each investment she made for her fund.

The Mumbai property market had been at its volatile best these last few months, and investors were wary. Which meant that there was a risk of projects stalling—which in turn meant that buyers who’d already invested found themselves with large amounts of capital locked up and no hope of returns in the short term. And the fund that Mallika worked for was seriously considering stopping investment in properties that were under construction.

The kitchen was dark as well. The cook would have gone home some hours ago, leaving dinner out in microwaveable dishes for Mallika and Aryan. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but dinner was the only meal she could make sure her brother actually ate.

The lights in his room were on, and she knocked before entering.

‘Aryan? Dinner?’ she asked, her heart twisting as she watched him hunch over his laptop. It was as if he didn’t see the world around him any more, finding reality in the flickering screen of his computer instead.

‘In a minute,’ he said, not even looking up.

‘Did you have lunch?’ she asked, and he shrugged.

‘Lalita gave me something,’ he said. ‘You go ahead and eat—you must be tired.’

It was a measure of how little she expected from him that she actually felt pleased he’d realised how exhausted she was. Leaving him to his computer, she went back to the kitchen—she’d make sure he had something to eat later.

For the last couple of days she’d not been able to get Darius out of her head. The way he’d looked at her, his smile, his voice—it felt as if she’d spent hours with him rather than just a few minutes.

He’d said he’d be in touch, but two days had gone by and he hadn’t called. Maybe he’d found someone else more suitable for the role. Someone who didn’t spot their boss and freak out halfway through a discussion, or run out on him without warning.

Idly she opened the contact list in her phone and stated scrolling down it. Darius Mistry. She had his mobile number and his email ID, and the temptation to drop him a text or a short email was huge. She could apologise once again for running out on him. Or tell him that she’d changed her mind about the job.

When it came to professional communications she was confident and practical, but somehow with Darius she found herself prevaricating. Her shyness prevented her from getting in touch for anything other than strictly business reasons.

She was still mulling things over when her phone rang, and she almost dropped it in surprise.

‘I was just thinking about you,’ she blurted out, and then blushed furiously. Darius was probably already convinced of her weirdness—she didn’t need to make it worse. ‘I mean … I was just thinking over what you said about this being the right stage in my career to change jobs …’

‘Reconsidering, I hope?’ he said smoothly, and went on without waiting for her to answer. ‘Look, I know you’ve said you’re not interested, but I’ve interviewed around a dozen completely unsuitable people and I’d really like a chance to pitch the job to you again. Preferably in a place where your boss isn’t likely to land up and ruin my sales pitch.’

One part of her felt disappointed that he hadn’t called just to speak to her, but she shook herself crossly. Of course his interest in her was purely professional. What had got into her?

‘I’m really not interested in changing jobs, Darius,’ she said, firmly suppressing the little voice in her head that told her to go and meet him anyway. ‘And I’ve wasted your time once already—I wouldn’t want to do it again.’

Darius briefly considered telling Mallika that time spent with her would definitely not be wasted, but he bit the words back. This wasn’t a seduction, and he’d already made it clear that when it came to business he was as determined as she to get what he wanted.

‘It’s part of my job,’ he said lightly. ‘Even if you don’t want to join us now, at least I’ll get to tell you about the company—and who knows? Maybe you’ll want to join at some later time.’

‘All right, then,’ Mallika conceded. ‘When shall I meet you?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he said decisively. ‘Lunch at one of the restaurants in Lower Parel? That’s nearer my office than yours, and hopefully we won’t run into anyone you know.’

Darius was beginning to wonder if he’d been stood up when Mallika finally walked into the restaurant. The first thing that struck him was that there was a strained expression in her lovely eyes. The second was that she looked anything but tomboyish now.

Granted, her hair was still styled for convenience rather than glamour, and her make-up was kept to the bare minimum. But she was wearing a sari today—a dark blue silk affair, with a muted print—and her figure was spectacular in it. And her spontaneous smile when she saw him was the best welcome he could ever have hoped for.

He stood as she walked up to him, and Mallika began to feel ridiculously nervous. It was a Friday and he was dressed casually, in a white open-necked cotton shirt over jeans. His thick hair looked slightly damp from the shower, and she had a second’s insane urge to reach up and run her fingers through it.

To cover her confusion she held out her hand, and he took it, briefly clasping it between both his hands before he let go.

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m not too late, am I?’

He shook his head. That smile had lit up her face, but now the worried expression was back in her eyes.

‘Is everything okay?’ he asked quietly once they were both seated and the waiter had put their menu cards in front of them and retired to a safe distance.

Her eyes flew up to his. ‘Yes, of course,’ she said, sounding just a little defensive.