Marriage by Arrangement
Author
Sophia Singh Sasson
Reads
17.1K
Chapters
24
HarlequinOne
1>He owns the room, even when it doesn’t belong to him.
The first bullet point of the memo Rani Gupta had written for her boss was right on target. Everyone around the polished mahogany table stood as Arjun Singh walked through the door. He was tall, confident, impeccably dressed in a tailor-made suit with shampoo-commercial hair and a take-charge stride. India’s hottest hottie. That’s what the South Asian media called him. The title was normally reserved for rising Bollywood stars or sizzling new male models. It was India’s version of the most eligible bachelor. For the first time in twenty years, the coveted title had gone to a businessman. Hotelier Arjun Singh, hopefully RKS Architecture’s new client.
“Let me do the talking,” Rani’s boss, Delia Dietz, leaned over and whispered to her.
Like hell! Rani clenched her jaw but resisted the urge to argue. Her promotion paperwork was on Delia’s desk. The promotion that should have been mine two years ago. It was best to seethe internally; she didn’t want to give Delia an excuse to turn down her promotion. Again.
Arjun Singh greeted the bigwigs at the table. His voice was rich and deep with an Indian-tinged British accent that came from being educated in an English boarding school. She tried not to swoon at the way he enunciated each word and rarely used contractions. He gestured for everyone to sit. Rani sank into the buttery leather chair and took a sip of the coffee that an assistant had placed there just moments ago. Even the coffee is better up here. The boardroom of RKS Architecture was designed to impress. Floor-to-ceiling windows glittered with a bird’s-eye view of the Vegas strip. Every surface of the room gleamed with the shine of money.
They began the meeting with introductions. Arjun’s golden-brown eyes moved quickly around the table but stopped when Rani introduced herself. Delia was talking but Arjun kept his eyes locked on Rani. She stared back at him, mesmerized, grateful that her medium-brown complexion hid the heat rising in her cheeks. His right eyebrow went up ever so slightly and she swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. Damn.
He broke eye contact and she let out a breath. What was that? If she didn’t know better she would’ve sworn she’d caught his interest, even if just for a second. She shook off the thought. A man like Arjun Singh didn’t notice women like her. India’s hottest hottie had the most gorgeous women in the world lining up for him. An average-looking, slightly overweight woman like her would never register on his radar. Obviously she was reading too much into his attention. Her experience with men was so limited that she’d only ever been intimate with her ex-husband. What did she know about flirtation?
Delia started with pleasantries. “Namaste, Mr. Singh.” Delia’s voice had dropped low and she stretched out the word Namaste like she was a yoga instructor encouraging her students to find inner peace. Rani fought the urge to roll her eyes and got the feeling Arjun was trying to do the same. Indians used Namaste as a respectful greeting of hello or goodbye, not a new age chant.
“It is so nice to have you here all the way from India. My neighbor is from Bangalore and I was just talking to him about taking a trip there, though I understand you are from Rajasthan, which is in the north, of course...”
Ten, nine, eight... Rani silently counted down the seconds. She got to five before Arjun Singh raised his hand gesturing for Delia to stop. “With all due respect, my time is limited so let’s get started with our business.”
2>Don’t try to regale him with stories of India or Indians you know. He finds it patronizing.
Obviously, her boss hadn’t bothered to read her memo.
Delia cleared her throat and pressed a button on the remote. Two wood panels parted to reveal a TV screen. As Delia talked through the PowerPoint slides in a crisp voice, Rani’s shoulders dropped. Delia had decided not to go with her ideas for the lobby, casino or guest rooms. Not only was all of Rani’s work wasted, the generic Vegas design Delia presented was all wrong for Arjun’s hotel. Rani snuck a look at him. Arjun silently drummed his fingers on the table and Rani admired how graceful they were: long, slim and perfectly manicured. She curled her own bitten nails into her hands. Does he like these uninspired designs? Then Delia got to the owners condo and Rani was pleased that they had chosen her plans. The condo was unusually large for a typical Vegas hotel. You probably didn’t have any designs you could recycle.
Delia was barely finished with the presentation when Arjun raised a hand again. “Stop. I do not need to hear any more.” Everyone in the room stilled. “With one exception, these are the same rubbish designs that every other firm in Vegas has peddled. Including the one I fired.”
3>He’s known for his sharp tongue and ruthless business practices.
Delia shifted on her feet. Rani would have enjoyed seeing Delia brought down a notch but her own mouth was sour. Was he trashing her idea for the owners condo? He hadn’t even seen her full design.
“Mr. Singh, could you elaborate on your concerns?” Delia asked diplomatically.
“The only original part I see is the design for the owners condo. What inspired you to use a jaali theme?”
Rani’s pulse jumped and she looked pointedly at Delia, resisting the urge to raise her hand like a schoolgirl. Her boss ploughed on. “Well, we wanted something as grand as the Taj Mahal and...”
Rani inwardly groaned. Arjun Singh closed his portfolio. “Obviously you have no idea what you are talking about and this meeting was a waste of my time.” He pushed his chair back.
“Your requirements stated that you want a design that allows for both an open concept and privacy. As I’m sure you know, the jaali model has porous walls to let light and air pass through but still maintain privacy. The pattern can be intricately carved into stone or wood. The design choices are endless, and can provide a unique touch for the hotel.” All eyes turned to Rani, and Arjun Singh slowly pulled himself back to the table. His stare was fixed on her and her nerves tingled. Delia will kill me, but if I’m going to commit career suicide, I might as well go for broke.
“You said you wanted the owners condo to feel like home, so we took inspiration from the old Indian-style houses.” She went on for another five minutes, careful to use “we” instead of “I” to describe her work. Arjun didn’t take his eyes off her the entire time.
When she was finished, Delia jumped in. “Rani Gupta works on my team and helped with this portion of the design.”
Arjun’s eyes flicked to Delia in irritation, giving her a universal oh please look.
4>He is very good at reading people and hates credit-hogging bullshitters.
This last bullet point wasn’t actually on her memo but it should’ve been.
“Most of your ideas are stale and overused. I want more original thought like the jaali design.”
Rani’s heart stopped in her chest, matching the stunned silence in the room.
“Mr. Singh, I assure you all our ideas are unique. If you didn’t like these, we can develop some additional options for you to consider,” Delia sputtered.
“This hotel needs to be completed in six months. I do not have time to dawdle with more presentations. What assurance can you give me that your firm can understand my vision for this hotel?”
“Mr. Singh, given the importance of your project to us, we will have our best staff on your contract. In fact, Rani Gupta will lead the project.” The soothing compromise was offered by the company CEO, Ian Rabat. He was a small, thin man with square glasses and a goatee. His father had founded the company and was the R in RKS While everyone else referred to each other by first names, it was always Mr. Rabat for him.
“But...” Delia started to say something but a sharp look from Mr. Rabat silenced her.
Rani’s pulse raced. Is this really happening? I’m going to lead a big contract? Arjun’s eyes sought her out and he lifted his chin. Is he asking me if I’m okay with this? Can’t be! In her experience, wealthy Indian men didn’t ask permission, they took what they wanted. Her ex-husband, Navin, immediately sprang to mind.
She met Arjun’s gaze and gave him a slight nod, trying to look nonchalant as if she was asked to lead big projects every day. But panic seized her. Could she really handle a client like Arjun Singh?
“I am willing to do a limited contract with your firm for the construction of the owners condo, plus blueprints and a 3D interior design for the lobby that mimics the one Ms. Gupta presented for the owners condo. Further business will depend on how quickly you complete this work, and your ability to impress me with ideas for the rest of the hotel. Send me a cost proposal by the end of the day. As long as it is reasonable, you will have a signed contract by the morning.” Arjun stood and left the room without even a goodbye handshake. There were ten seconds of silence, and then everyone spoke at once. Delia stood and went to have a private word with Mr. Rabat.
Rani slipped out and caught up with Arjun at the elevator banks, her heart beating wildly.
“I look forward to working with you, Mr. Singh.” She held out her hand and he looked at it for a second before taking it. Her hand felt small enveloped in his firm grip, and a delicious current danced through her body. She was five-foot-four and wearing two-inch heels but had to tilt her head far back to maintain his gaze. She met his eyes and her legs turned to Jell-O.
“Call me Arjun.” His lips twitched. “Is it okay if I call you...Rani?” He said her name slowly, like it was a sip of fine wine tantalizing his tongue.
“Um, sure.” She tugged on her hand and he let it go but his eyes stayed on her. The man vibrated with sexual charm. Careful, Rani!
“How much of the condo design was yours?” he asked.
Rani resisted the urge to look back at the boardroom. “All of it.”
He smiled. Not the clipped polite smile she’d seen him give when reporters thrust a microphone in his face or the fake one he gave at the meeting. This one was wide, revealing a tiny dimple in his right cheek. Rani’s stomach flipped, and then flipped again. She’d looked at hundreds of photos of this man in the course of her research and there wasn’t a dimple in any one of them. Can this man get any hotter?
“I have been meeting with architectural design firms for months and no one has come close to what I want. You’re quite talented, Rani. I cannot wait to see what you come up with for the lobby.”
Now it was Rani’s turn to smile.
“I already have your lobby designed. I think you’re going to like it.”
His lips twitched again. The elevator doors dinged open and he stepped through, then turned to face her and smiled. A full-wattage smile with the little dimple. “I think we are going to work really well together.” He joined his hands together as the elevator doors closed. “Namaste, Rani,” he said in a silky voice that melted her insides.
Namaste, hottie! Rani stared as the doors closed. Then the sound of someone clearing their throat caught her attention. She turned to see Delia standing behind her. Her chest deflated.
“Rani, I see you’re getting to know Mr. Singh.”
“I spent a lot of time researching him. I thought I’d take a minute to get a sense of him in person if we’re going to be working together,” Rani said cagily. Why did Delia question her every move?
Delia nodded. “I read the client memo you wrote on him. I didn’t agree with your assessment, but given how things went, I think you researched him well.”
It was the closest Rani would get to an apology but she’d take it. There was no mention of a dimple in the memo. Still buzzing from her encounter with Arjun, Rani put her hands behind her so she wouldn’t fidget.
“Congratulations. You’re leading this project as far as the client is concerned, but you’ll still be reporting to me and I’ll be watching your every move.”
Rani sighed inwardly. Any failures would be blamed on her and successes would be credited to Delia. But that was a problem for another day. She wasn’t going to let Delia bring her down.
“Great. I look forward to working with you,” she said with fake enthusiasm. Then it struck her. She finally had a modicum of power over Delia. Mr. Rabat had already announced to the client that she would be leading the project. “Can I assume that my promotion will be made official soon?”
“We’ll see.” Delia said noncommittally.
But Rani wasn’t going to let it go this time. She had worked long hours on the proposal, hadn’t reused old ideas like her colleagues, and had won her firm the contract because of it.
“I think leading a contract like this is well beyond the job description for a junior architect.” Rani crossed her arms.
“I guess you’re right,” Delia admitted grudgingly.
Yes! Finally! Rani couldn’t help but grin.
“Rani, this is a big step for you so let me give you some advice.” Delia’s voice was sharp. “Architecture is a man’s field. It takes a lot to succeed as a woman, especially in Vegas. You have the talent to make it to the top but you already have a black mark against you. This project can catapult your career...” She paused and looked meaningfully at Rani. “If you don’t get involved with the client.”
“Excuse me, Delia...”
Delia rolled her eyes. “Spare me. The way you two were making eyes at each other in the boardroom didn’t go unnoticed. I’m simply reminding you that this firm has a very strict morals clause in our employment contracts. We didn’t invoke it two years ago but you won’t get another chance.”
Shame pricked through her body at Delia’s not-so-subtle hint about Rani’s past at the firm. Her ex-husband had wreaked havoc on her work life. Right after she filed for divorce, her ex had shown up at RKS and blown her relationship with her former boss out of proportion. A good man had gotten fired. What Delia didn’t know was that Rani had a lifetime of pain gathered in her heart. Her previous marriage had left her caged in a traditional Indian home, stripped of her freedom and dignity. Her judgment in men had cost her emotionally, financially and professionally. She had no intention of letting a man have any control over her ever again. Especially not an Indian man. Marrying an Indian man meant marrying his family. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. She was done with traditional Indian families.
Arjun’s project was her ticket out of the career rut she was in. He had already fired the best interior architecture firm in Vegas. If she succeeded where they had failed, people would stop talking about her past mistake and focus on her talent. She could finally pursue her dream of opening her own consulting business.
“Delia, nothing is more important than my career. Arjun Singh will never be more than a client.”
She looked back at the elevator doors. Dimple be dammed. This was her big chance to get control over her life and she wasn’t going to blow it.
