‘So, when you take two beautiful things, an unlikely combination of things, and put them together, the effect is magic! I cannot tell you the number of calls I got.’
I heard the door open behind me. I heard Sudha before I wheeled around. It was the rustle of the business chief’s crisply starched sari.
‘Auntie,’ Pooja said and picked up her bag that wasn’t any bigger than her skirt. ‘I was getting ready to come to you when Myra walked in. She follows me, too, you know.’
‘Cool beans!’ That was for me.
Sudha waved Pooja out of Andrew’s cabin and followed her, winking at me before she turned.
I waited for a whole minute after the door closed, and then I laughed.
Andrew’s eyes were on my face, his hands were in his pockets.
‘Entertaining,’ I said, sitting on the sofa before which he was now positioned. ‘You’re more than eye candy, you know that, right?’
Andrew shrugged.
I was back on my feet. ‘I could kill for confidence like that! Oh to be 21!’
‘How do you know she’s 21?’ Andrew was quick on the buzzer.
‘That was a guess.’ I shrugged.
‘You were close; she’s 22.’ Andrew smirked.
A lot of information. ‘Anyway,’ I said.
Andrew nodded.
‘You didn’t ask me to write the Venkamma Achar follow-up. We are clear on that.’ I stated my case.
‘I did ask you to write–’
I did an Andrew Brown and interrupted him. ‘Yeah, but not the follow-up.’
‘I asked you to write a piece on Venkamma Achar’s death,’ he said.
‘I’m not a crime reporter.’
‘I asked you to write a piece on Venkamma Achar’s death,’ he repeated. ‘I decide where it goes.’
He turned and walked back to his seat behind his desk.
Wow! The arrogance. I took my time walking around the only chair that faced him and seated myself carelessly.
‘Let me explain to you how these physical spaces in journalism work,’ I said, pulling out a newspaper that was on his table. It knocked down a couple of books. Neither of us moved to retrieve them.
Andrew’s smile mocked me.
‘This is the masthead.’ I pointed at the upper deck holding up the newsprint. ‘There are various sections in here, including city, nation, business, culture and sports. Later in the week, we have weekend spreads, pull-outs; eight pages, but we’ve even gone up to 16.’
‘Thanks,’ Andrew said. His eyes were cold. Dead winter.
‘Now, a business story cannot figure in the city page even if the corporate is headquartered in Bengaluru, just like, how do I say this simply, you cannot hang lingerie in the men’s section of a store.’
‘Not even if I owned it?’
‘You could, of course! If you don’t want to sell it,’ I said, adding, ‘which is exactly what I’m coming to – poor business practices.’
