“Those are just rumors,” he says flippantly, like my concern is invalid and childish. “I’ve known his father for years, did business with him, and we only parted ways because he shifted his company to Dubai. They want to return and I will not let you stand in the way. You’re going to set up a meeting and talk with him.”
“No.”
Wrath darkens his eyes. “What did you say?”
“I said no. I am not getting in the same room as Arnav, let alone talking to him. I don’t care about your history with the Gehlots.”
He searches my face for signs of weakness. An ominous calmness slides over his features, and he threatens, “Then you leave me no choice but to bring it up to the board.”
Unsurprising. He plays the same card over and over. It’s beginning to lose its touch. “By all means, Dad. They won’t side with you on this. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You’re waging a war against me, son?”
“You started it.” And I am going to win it.
“Very well.” He stands, buttoning up his suit jacket. “Seeing how you lost your fiancée to your brother, you will fail yet again. I think I supported the wrong son all these years.”
I don’t react and take a deep breath. “Close the door on your way out.”
He shakes his head in disappointment, then leaves.
Rotating in my chair so I can gaze out at the view of the skyline from the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, I decide to accept Arya’s advice.
It’s time I win the board members’ votes, starting with Sanjay Kelkar.
Arya
“Earth to Ari!”
I startle, looking up from my phone at Anaya. “Gosh, what?”
“What’s so interesting about your phone, babe? Are you even listening to what I am saying?”
“Of course I am.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes widen in exaggerated excitement as she says, “So you want to help me whip the guy that I have chained in my basement?”
I gape at her in horror, before rolling my eyes. “Fine, I wasn’t listening. Okay!”
“Nathan’s dick can’t be that huge or good that you’re daydreaming at a restaurant.”
“Maybe you’re boring,” I tease, taking a sip of my coffee. “And you’re correct on both counts.”
“A, I am hella entertaining. B, damnnnn!” she hoots, drawing the attention of everyone around us.
“Lower your voice,” I hiss.
“Don’t be a prude.”
I smack her arm. “Bitch.”
“Spill the deets,” she demands, popping a fry in her mouth. “Let me live vicariously through you.”
“Long distance being tough?”
“Don’t remind me. Or I might just go back to my old ways.”
“You’re too into Jack to do that.”
