Against All Odds

by Aarti V Raman

Hesitantly, Sophia touched his stuff laid out neatly to the toiletry bag. He used Vi John’s shaving cream even now and a Gilette razor. It was so cute. His toothbrush was a yucky neon yellow in color and came with its own cap.

  Like a lovesick teenager she unscrewed the cap of his cologne and smelled him. A piney, sandalwood scent that reminded her of him.

  Sophia cleaned up and took a really quick shower before dressing in a cute peach a-line sleeveless kurti-style crop-top. She paired it with an olive green skirt with slits on both sides. The kurti included a shrug she’d forgotten to pack in her overnight so her boobs were on full and ample display. But this was Sydney not South Delhi, so it wasn’t a problem.

  For jewelry, Sophia wore a dangling gold chain she’d purchased in Bangkok on her eighteenth birthday. Like most things from Bangkok, the chain was a first copy. She’d been unable to sell it off at the local jeweler’s when they’d sold everything else off.

  All in all, she looked presentable if slightly more exposed than normal. The weather was too hot for serious makeup so she just slapped on sunscreen, moisturizer and gloss and called it a day.

  “Coffee,” Sophia told her reflection. “We need coffee to get our brain thinking.”

  She wandered to the recessed mini bar which held all manner of goodies, including Godiva chocolates. The beverages tray was set on top of the mini bar.

  That was when she saw it.

  Bharat’s laptop bag, with the silver color laptop sticking out.

  Sophia closed her eyes.

  And just like that, reality came back. The reality she was trying so hard to escape. The reality in which she needed to pick up that bag, that laptop, catch the next flight back home and hand it over to Nakul, her dada, to ensure their futures. Ensure that Bharat Shrinivasan did not win after destroying her family.

  Sophia could almost see herself do it too. It would be so easy. There wasn’t any law against picking up a bag and walking out of this room, this hotel.

  Bharat would get it. He was too smart and perceptive not to know when he’d been played. He’d know it was justice for what he’d done.

  Sophia opened her eyes.

  She reached for the bag and touched the laptop inside. The metal felt cold and alien against her skin. Wrong. Yet, her allegiance was to her dad. Period. Nakul had held the family together when they were in pieces and he needed this. Needed this one thing that she could give him.

  How could she not take the chance?

  Just then, there was a musical knock on the door.

  Sophia jumped back from the mini-bar as if scalded. There was a murmur of voices outside and she turned quickly, stumbling against the shag pile and twisting her knee. She cursed as she fell, the jarring in her ankle real.

  The door opened and Bharat walked in followed by liveried staff with a loaded trolley. He was smiling. The smile immediately faded as he saw her on the ground.

  ~~~~~

  “Sophie, are you alright?” he crouched down next to her.

  She shook her head and cursed, low and furious in Bengali. He caught a few words.

  “I’m fine,” Sophia said. “Just super clumsy. Nothing more. Help me get up, please?” She added a smile.

  He looked doubtful but grasped her gently by the elbow and lifted her up. She barely came up to his shoulders without her shoes on.

  His smile came back on, spotlights dancing in his eyes. Sophia had the bizarre thought that he didn’t smile all that often. If ever.

  She put pressure on the ankle and winced. It hurt.

  “You’re obviously not okay.” Bharat was grim, as he swept her into his arms while she tried to hold back a shriek and clutched at his shoulders desperately. Depositing her on the nearby couch, kneeling by her side, he spoke to the hotel staff. “Can we have the in-house doctor in here?”

  “What?” Sophia sat up. “Don’t be silly, Bharat. I am fine. It’s nothing. We aren’t calling a doctor.” She looked at the man who’d brought the food in. “There’s no need for a doctor.”

  “It could be serious,” Bharat insisted.

  “It’s not.” She shook her head and looked pleadingly at him. “Bharat, please. No doctor.”

  He huffed out a breath that made her appreciate his tremendous upper body physique all over again. He truly was yummily-made. Bharat touched her ankle and pressed on it, she controlled her wince with effort and he pressed some more.

  Her eyes brightened. It actually felt better. “That feels nice,” she said huskily.

  “You can leave the food there, thanks,” Bharat murmured, without taking his eyes and hands off Sophia.

  ~~~~~

  They lunched on a delicious summer salad made with mango, avocado, and watermelon cress. For main course it was pan-seared fish and something that passed for biryani, although Sophia declared that the bhaasa her brother fried on Sundays was ten times more delicious. Dessert was strawberry tiramisu.

  Bharat ordered a half bottle of red wine but only poured for her.

  Sophia didn’t press him on it but when she finished off her first glass and refused the second, he said, “I’m a recovering alcoholic and addict. Five years sober.”

  “So you’re not allowed even occasional wine or something?”

  Bharat shook his head. “No, it’s a slippery slope from one drink to five to snorting cocaine.”

  Sophia didn’t know how to react. “I see.”

  He toyed with her fingers and pressed against her palm. Tingles shot up between them like they were creating their own force field.

  Sophia wished she wasn’t so aware of him. It made everything else so much harder.

  “I don’t think you do,” Bharat said quietly.

  She opted to stay silent.

  He continued after two minutes in which the TV droned on, a music channel which played Bollywood songs. “I never wanted to be CEO. I liked building things, inventing them. There is something so extraordinary about taking a bunch of ones and zeroes and changing the course of nature itself with it, isn’t it?” he mused.

  She wasn’t expected to reply so she didn’t, just ate the tiramisu slowly.

  “In fact, your father was the one who gave me CEO lessons.” Bharat smiled nostalgically. “Rajeev asked me to invest in three good ties, one good jacket, and a great pair of formal shoes. He even took me shopping at DLF Saket, to the Zegna store. Your dad was able to fix my appearance…but inside…where it mattered, I wasn’t able to fix myself.”

  Working around a dry throat, she forced herself to ask. “Why?”

  He shrugged, a curiously vulnerable gesture. Toyed with the last bites of the tiramisu. “I don’t know. I could claim it was work pressure but there are so many CEOs who came from worse beginnings than I did and managed so well. I fucked up. No excuses. The end.”

  “Did no one ever try to stop you?” Sophia asked quietly. “I mean, back when you were making headlines…”

  Bharat shook his head. “I had a friend. My best friend, Akhtar Amaan. He was the CTO of JoyXS. He came to see me after the New Year porn star headlines. Found me in my own vomit. Dragged me to the shower and almost drowned me to wake me up.” He sighed. “When I regained consciousness I punched him so hard, I broke his nose. Then he broke mine. And resigned on the spot.” He smiled, a sad little smile.

  This time, Sophia reached out and enclosed his palm in her own. It was cold, clammy. “Oh, Bharat,” she whispered.

  “I fucked up,” he repeated. “The end. I know I don’t deserve whatever I have created after that, because JoyXS was my baby and it ended so badly…I wish…” Bharat sighed again and took his hand again.

  “We can’t change the past. But we can make a better future,” she said softly.

  Bharat looked at her then, tormented and more than a little bitter. “You should know this, Sophia. I hated your father, Akhtar, and every single person on that Board for the longest time because I thought they betrayed me. My company was dissolved, sold off like garbage. Mine. I went to rehab and worked on
my patents because I wanted to come back bigger and better than every single one of them. Show them I’d won without them.”

  Sophia tried to take her hand back but he didn’t let go.

  “I wanted to do all of that,” Bharat said. “The orphan from Chennai. The boy who was written off by Indian media as a has-been, a no one. The entrepreneur who never could. I wanted to throw my success in their faces.”

  “Wanted?”

  He shrugged, became pensive. “Somewhere along the way, I discovered life was too precious to waste on vengeance and betrayal. That’s when I started building Caliban. And I have tried to not make the same mistakes with Caliban that I had with the previous company.”

  Caliban, so that was the name of his new launch. “That’s…admirable.”

  Bharat shook his head. “It’s really not. All of my regret and guilt and need for forgiveness won’t bring your father back to us. Will it? It won’t change what I did to your family?” He smiled, and it was a lonely smile.

  Sophia knew it because she smiled like that. When you’re in the middle of a crowd and all alone… And it was too much. Their conversation had become drastic and she felt uncomfortably naked and open.

  She put down her fork and smiled at him. Determinedly. “I would like to continue dissecting our pasts and crying some more, it’s always therapeutic.”

  “LOL.” He didn’t chuckle. He actually said Lol. “I’m a very bad host, aren’t I?”

  “The worst,” she agreed. “But you promised to show me the best place in the world. If it’s a walk down memory lane, I suggest you hand over Caliban to me right now, mister. Because this sucked.”

  “Sucked?” Bharat kissed the tips of her right hand, licking a stray bit of tiramisu off it. “Like this?’

  Sophia fought to keep her breathing steady. “Yes, sucked. Like it’s too much drama for a pretty day.”

  “Right. Well.” He took her finger and sucked on it again. “All right then. I don’t break my promises.”

  Sophia squirmed in her seat, feeling a rush of heat between her legs. Oh god, if he didn’t stop soon she’d die.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Twenty minutes later, they were inside the main venue of the convention, the Sydney Opera House.

  Bharat flashed some sort of badge and took her to the very top of the dome-shaped structure. Usually, this high up was just the balcony audience on one section, along with stage backdrops and wires and props, for when performances took place.

  But because Consumer Convention was being held here, they had done some structural modification Bharat told her was all eco-friendly and breakdown-able. As a result, they were led to a platform-like room at the very tip of the dome.

  An attendant wearing overalls handed them a puffy, gray suit and a weird helmet, like something NASA would design. Sophia was mystified.

  “Trust me,” Bharat said, before donning the visor. He shrugged into his suit without any fuss.

  Sophia had a problem because she was wearing a skirt. But it wasn’t super long, so she stuffed it at her waist and got into the suit – with Bharat looking modestly away.

  “You’re good?” he asked when she indicated that she was done.

  Sophia nodded and stuffed her hair inside the helmet thing.

  The attendant entered the room via another cleverly concealed door, checked something off a clipboard. “Are you guys ready?” He sounded distinctly Asian but the light was too dim for Sophia to distinguish his features.

  “Yes, we are,” Bharat said.

  “Follow me, please.” The attendant walked them through to the next room, after opening a reinforced steel door. He ushered them in and gave them a thumbs up.

  Bharat gripped Sophia’s hand lightly. “Don’t be scared. I’ll catch you, okay?”

  “Bharat.” Sophia shoved the visor up, a little annoyed. “What is going on?”

  “Hang on,” Bharat shoved the helmet glass down.

  She was even more perplexed now as he took her hand and they stepped into the room...

  …And stepped off the edge of the world.

  ~~~~~

  Sophia shrieked. The next instant Bharat clasped her close. He held her snug and warm against him as they floated to the middle of the dome. Below them was a one-way plexiglass which allowed them a bird’s eye view of the entire room.

  Sophia looked at him in utter delight, her sigh of wonder matched by the smile on her face.

  “What is this?” she yelled.

  In answer, Bharat spun them around and around and she whooped with sheer delight, as they swung in a hundred different directions. But she knew he was her tether. He wouldn’t let her go. And it settled like truth, like grace, inside her bones.

  “It is anti-gravity,” he informed her. “It’s what keeps spaceships going.”

  She let go of his hand and summersaulted in mid-air and watched the world below pass by.

  Sophia whooped. “This. Is. AMAZING.”

  “Yeah,” he said. When she glanced back at him, Bharat was looking at her, floating. And he was smiling inside his helmet. “Yeah. It’s amazing.”

  And, right there, suspended in space with no anchor to support her, with no other feeling except how right this was, against all odds, Sophia fell a little in love with Bharat.

  ~~~~~

  When they were back on terra firma, and in street clothes Sophia squealed and hugged him as hard as she could. Bharat held her back, a brief crush of her bones, and stepped back before she was ready to let him go.

  She kept her smile light and happy. “That is the best place in the world, Mr. Shrinivasan.”

  “Good.” He tucked her palm between his and handed the suits back to the attendant and swiped his entry card on a machine. “Because I would have had to kill you if I had to give you Caliban.”

  “Really?” Sophia’s joy dimmed a miniscule bit. “You want it that badly?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes, it seems like I’ve worked my whole life on it.” Bharat cocked his head. “Yes, I want it that badly.”

  They continued down the carpeted stairs of the Opera House, while crowds of people – in little groups of suits and jackets, casual onlookers and visitors, and many other unidentifiable breeds - milled around the premises, checking out the different kinds of tech. Talking in a language that sounded like English but was really geek.

  “I never wanted anything that badly,” she remarked. “It must be nice to have that kind of purpose.”

  They stopped at a booth where a robot was shaking hands and saying ‘konichi wa’ to everyone who stopped by. The robot looked like Angry Bird.

  Bharat let his hand dangle in the robot’s hand, as he glanced speculatively at Sophia. “So, being a blackjack dealer on a cruise ship is not your ultimate dream job?”

  Sophia grinned. “God, no. It’s just something I am good at. And it pays pretty well. I studied English Lit at NYU and was considering dropping out, when Dad…when it happened. I guess I never really got to consider my options.”

  He slid his hand out of the robot shake and guided hers in. The robot’s titanium alloy fingers squeezed perfunctorily while Bharat’s squeezed hers with incendiary warmth. Sophia felt dizzy for a second.

  “Konichi wa,” the robot said.

  She bowed down to it. And it bowed back. She grinned again. The inventor of the robot came and said Bharat’s name. Bharat greeted him like he was a long-lost friend and they talked tech, while Sophia faded into the background.

  Their intimate moment was lost but his question played in her head.

  So, being a blackjack dealer is not your ultimate dream job?

  Back before life had shot all her plans to smithereens and she’d grown up decades in days, she’d been studying for a double degree in Literature, Communication and Economics to land a job at one of the lobbying firms in Washington D.C, if she could. She’d nearly graduated top of her class when her dad had collapsed and that was that.

  No more NYU, the student loans were hu
mongous. No job offers because she’d not finished her degree and H1B in America was impossible to come by and so she’d come back home penniless and broke to care for a sick, comatose father.

  It was sheer luck she was offered that first cruise on The Lotus Dragon, when a good friend left to get married and they needed someone urgently to fill a croupier spot.

  Since then, she’d lived out of cruise liners and stopped dreaming. Maybe, that was why what he’d just done for her meant so much more to her. That he’d given her something new, something else, to dream about.

  She smiled now, a small, private smile which made Bharat interrupt his conversation. He squeezed her hand again and gave her a quizzical glance. “You want to check some of the other stuff out?”

  She shook her head. “Nah. You guys can talk. I was just fascinated by the use of synthetic layers of Teflon coating versus fibre glass coating.”

  The inventor, a young Japanese guy barely out of college if he was a day, grinned. “You paid attention. Tomo is lovely, no?”

  She stuck her hand out and shook hands with the robot again.

  “Konichi wa,” Tomo intoned.

  “All of this is lovely. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.” She hoped Bharat would not catch the longing in her voice.

  But if she’d looked up from conversing with the robot, she’d have known it to be a vain hope.

  ~~~~~

  Next, they walked through Hexagon-alley, where the ‘Smart’ inventions were displayed. Prototypes of software and hardware connected to each other so that simple, everyday processes such as turning the AC on, or changing the temperature of the oven, controlling smoke detectors and home alarm systems could happen via the click of a button on an app.

  Drones did everything – from delivery to shooting pictures to being used to ID a person using their social media profile and decide if they were dateable or not. There were far more complicated things on display too.

  A laser-grid network security system that not only recognized visitors but filed them for future reference as well as extrapolate for threats from the logs and more. It was fascinating, futuristic stuff.

  And it was all happening right in front of their eyes.