Her statement gives me pause. “What do you mean?”
“I ran into Mahek, the wedding photographer who did his engagement photoshoot for the magazine last summer. She never once got the vibe that he was acting being in love. She said he never once took his eyes off Iris and looked smitten. The woman is experienced enough to tell whether the chemistry is real or not. As for Iris, she was a little stiff at first and firmly denied doing too cozy poses, saying her family is conservative.” Putting down her cup, she leans closer. “I asked around and pretty much everyone said the same. So, yeah, it’s a possibility that there is no line of past hookups for him.”
“But he admitted to me that their relationship is fake.”
“Maybe it became real for him somewhere along the way.”
Could Anaya be right? Have I misjudged him? Is that why he’s refusing to put out a statement? His fierce protectiveness of Iris makes sense now.
Is he still in love with her?
What’s more perplexing is why I care to know. The weird tightening inside my chest at the possibility it could be true.
“After listening to you,” she smirks. “I think someone else is driving him insane and occupying his mind now.”
“Who? Me?”
“All the signs point to it.”
“I don’t think so,” I murmur, twisting the tablecloth between my fingers. “He’s a client, and I’m his publicist. Nothing more.”
Today was a major slipup. One I don’t intend to repeat.
“If you say so.” She chuckles, refusing to believe me. “A piece of advice: meet him at a neutral public place. Under no circumstances be alone with him, and absolutely no touching him.”
The two rules to live by while around Nathan Singhania.
***
The rest of my day goes by being buried in the list shared by Nathan. Apart from two board members, the rest are all under his father’s thumb. In the last meeting, they voted no against the man Nathan chose for promoting to CFO.
I went over them one by one, starting with Nathan's father, Rakesh Singhania. Despite stepping down as the head of the company, he hasn’t taken a back seat. The articles I read about him describe him as an autocratic leader. An old-fashioned narcissist. A stickler for rules and archaic values and traditions.
It’s clear why he and Nathan are clashing.
The older Singhania male wants to run the business as a traditional Hindu family business, while his son wants to modernize it and drive the legacy forward with innovation and partnering with similar companies.
If their war continues, it’s going to push the company into the ground. No matter how excellent Nathan’s strategies and good intentions are, he cannot succeed with his father trying to micromanage and sabotage him passively.
I wonder if Nathan has made the effort to chat with the board members supporting his father and getting them on his side. I wouldn’t put it past Rakesh to fill their ears with nonsense.
The animosity with which Nathan spoke about his dad, I’m sensing there’s more than one reason for their turbulent relationship.
The drama surrounding the Singhania clan has always been the talk of the town. As per my research, it has escalated even more in the past year after Iris became Kian’s assistant. One of the celebrity gossip blogs mentioned that Iris and Kian lived together while Nathan went overseas for a merger. That’s when she fell in love with Kian.
I swear the deeper I go, the twisted the history of the Singhania family becomes. It’s like watching an Indian reality show. Helping Nathan won’t be so simple. I’ve only got seven months before the next board meeting to show that he is the best CEO for Singhania and Sons.
Switching off my laptop because my eyes are burning, I notice I’m the only one left on my floor and that it’s dark outside. My stomach rumbles when I stand up, reminding me I should’ve had more than a salad for lunch earlier.
Collecting my purse, I exit my office and ride down to the basement parking lot. My yawn echoes in the compact space of the elevator before the door dings open. I’m greeted by dingy white light and unnerving quietness that borders on eerie. Despite the tight security in the building, I’m always nervous and on edge until I get inside my car.
As soon as I reach my precious SUV that I bought last year, I slip behind the wheel. Letting out a relieved sigh, I put on my seat belt and connect the Bluetooth to my playlist. Sabrina Carpenter’s husky voice fills the interior, bringing a grin to my face.
Putting the car into reverse, I sing the lyrics to “Taste”. “Heard you’re- Ahhh!”
A shrill scream erupts from my throat as something black lands on the hood of my car and slides to the ground.
I slam on the brakes.
