The Alpha's Assistant & The Dom Next Door

by Michelle Love

  Naveen went back to his book then, and Mikah decided to try and grab some sleep. Boy, if he had known what he was getting involved with when he agreed to have dinner with his friend that day in Harpa’s restaurant…

  Wouldn’t change a thing. Not a thing. Because when it came down to it, he was in love with the young woman asleep across the aisle from him. One day soon, he hoped that she would allow him to tell her just how much she meant to him. Something told him she would need him in the next few days, and he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else than by her side.

  Arlo called for the attention of the gathered guests and led them outside to the front of the hotel where the hotel’s new sign was draped with a curtain. He made a speech, thanking them for coming, praising the efforts and professionalism of the contractors (most of which were listening and cheered when he mentioned them). Smiling, he congratulated Tal and his company and raised a glass to the elderly architect.

  ‘Finally, the most important person on this project. The most important person in my life. Cosima Malhotra had led this project from the beginning, finding the old LaBelle and seeing its potential. She is the reason that wherever you go in this building, you see her masterful touch in every painting, every fixture, and fitting, every fabric. She is the reason that we are booked solid for the next year. She is the reason I breathe in and out every day. Cosima, come up here, darling and take your due.’ He held out a hand to the furiously blushing Cosima and led her to the front.

  Cheers and applause – the loudest from her co-workers and the workmen she had supervised over all those months. Arlo leaned to kiss her cheek, murmuring, ‘I love you, baby. I hope you enjoy the surprise…’

  He grinned at her bemusement and then grabbed the rope of the curtain. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, without further ado, we say goodbye to the old LaBelle…and welcome you all to the L’ Atelier Cosima…’

  He pulled the rope sharply and the curtain fell, revealing the new name, scrolled on a beautiful sign above the main entrance. The crowd burst into loud applause.

  L’ Atelier Cosima

  Cosima’s hands flew to her mouth, stunned, overwhelmed. Arlo laughed at her shock. ‘Gotcha,’ he said and kissed her thoroughly to the delight of the crowd.

  Afterward, people came up to them both and congratulated them, and Cosima didn’t have time to let the surprise sink in. It wasn’t until Tal hugged her and said, ‘Well, I’ve never had a colleague have their project named after them before.’

  Cosima shook her head, laughing. ‘I’m so shocked, Tal. He didn’t give an inkling that he was planning this, not a clue.’

  She finally managed to get Arlo alone, pulling around the corner of the hotel into the alleyway. She kissed him then looked up at him with shining eyes. ‘Thank you, my love, for the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I can’t believe it.’

  Arlo tightened his arms around her. ‘You’re welcome, my love, my Cosima. It was only fitting that your masterpiece should bear your name. I should say, your first masterpiece. Notwithstanding this fine body of yours,’ he grinned, and kissing her, running his hands down her body. ‘This dress is something else, but I can’t wait to take it off you.’

  Cosima chuckled. ‘You have a one-track mind.’ She smiled, but her eyes were suddenly sad. ‘I wish Harpa were here.’

  ‘I know, baby, but she has to do what she has to do.’

  Cosima nodded. ‘I just hope she forgives me.’

  ‘For what? Your mother being an adulterer?’

  Cosima shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to spoil our night. Come on, let’s get back to the party.’

  As they made their way back to the lobby of the hotel, a journalist stopped Cosima and asked her if she had any comment on the interview her mother had given. Arlo started to protest, but Cosima stopped him and smiled at the young woman.

  ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘I do. Come and have a drink and we’ll talk.’

  Harpa stood under the cold shower, trying to shake off the jetlag. Mumbai was even more beautiful than she remembered – the little she saw of it in the cab ride to the hotel. She was so tired, her eyes kept closing, and her head would fall onto Mikah’s shoulder. In the end, he’d chuckled and said, ‘Sleep, baby. We have plenty of time.’

  She’d woken up in a sumptuous, thankfully air-conditioned hotel bedroom, Mikah beside her, reading. She’d forgotten how hot the city was at this time of year, and now she felt gross and dirty from the heat and the plane journey.

  Walking back into the bedroom, naked, the air-con cooled her skin. She pulled on panties and a cotton dress. Mikah was working on his laptop. He looked and smiled at her. ‘There are pictures of the opening on the news sites if you want to look at them?’

  Harpa hesitated then shook her head. ‘After.’

  Mikah nodded, understanding. ‘Of course. Let’s go get some breakfast, Nav’s already down there.’

  Nav. My brother. She had been thinking about that the whole time she was awake, on the plane. She’d even pretended to be asleep so she could study the man from beneath half closed eyes. She still couldn’t believe they shared some DNA.

  Nav met them with a smile. ‘The breakfast buffet is here is out of this world,’ he said, steering towards tables laid out with every kind of food; Indian, American, European. ‘Caters for every taste.’

  Harpa fell on the food, but Mikah looked a little lost. Harpa grinned at him. ‘Try that one,’ she pointed at a curry dish. Nav laughed loudly.

  ‘Don’t listen to her; that’s Misal – for the uninitiated, it can be intense. Try the Sali Par Edu, it’s like a potato chip omelet with chili.’

  Mikah grinned. ‘Thanks for the tip. I’ll remember that, munchkin,’ he murmured to a giggling Harpa.

  The coffee was hot and strong, but Harpa went for the chai. The men laughed at her blissed-out face. ‘There’s nothing like Indian food in India,’ she said, ‘the spices are more intense, fruitier, hotter, the sweetness is intense…god, I have missed this place.’

  ‘How old were you the last time you came here?’ Nav was tucking into a fiery looking curry, scooping it up with roti.

  ‘Ten,’ she said, and swallowed, looking at him. ‘About two months later, my father was blown to pieces. The man I thought was my father.’

  ‘I know.’ Nav put down his fork. ‘Harpa, if I could turn back time…’

  ‘We’ll get answers later. I assume you’ve called your…our…father, set up the meeting.’

  ‘Yes,’ Nav resumed eating, ‘Although he thinks it’s just me. We’re more likely to get the truth out of him if he’s caught off guard.’

  Harpa concentrated on her food for a moment. Mikah finished his breakfast and sat back, sipping his coffee. ‘What’s your read on what he’ll do?’

  Nav shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know…my father doesn’t have the power or the position he thinks he does in his own mind. There was a time when his word was almost law in certain circles. Now he’s just an old, angry man.’

  ‘Impotent rage,’ Harpa muttered, and Nav smiled.

  ‘Quite.’

  Harpa glanced at her watch. ‘What time is he expecting you?’

  ‘Eleven a.m.

  Harpa blew out a long breath. ‘Well, then. I guess we’ll soon know how this pans out.’

  Harpa found herself trembling violently as they drove towards Iqbal Chowdry’s home. The man lived in an affluent suburb in South Mumbai and on the short journey, Harpa’s hands began to sweat. The fact Nav didn’t know how his father would react made her nervous. She began to imagine the worst scenarios…Iqbal, outraged, gunning them all down in his anger. She glanced at Mikah and wished she’d insisted he stay at the hotel, safe, out of reach.

  Nav squeezed her hand as they got out of the car at the apartment complex. ‘Remember, he’s just an old man now. Don’t be scared. If he gets nasty, we’re out of here, and he will have lost a son as well as a daughter.’

  She smiled gratefully at him as they wa
lked into the plush lobby of the luxury building. Mikah whistled as he looked around the interior.

  ‘This is something else…’

  Harpa half-smiled. ‘Cos would love it here.’ She realized how much she missed her sister being part of this…but even though the threat had been lifted, she knew Cosima would be in danger here, still, the anger still raw among the older generation.

  Iqbal’s maid opened the door, and her eyes popped when she saw all three of them but led them into the living room. Iqbal was sitting at his desk, writing, and he too looked surprised to see them all. He stood and greeted his son. Nav took care to introduce Mikah first then Harpa saw him take a deep breath.

  ‘Father…this is Harpa Malhotra.’

  Iqbal blinked, and Harpa saw the battle in his mind – was it because he knew she was his daughter or was it the fact a hated Malhotra was in his home? Finally, he nodded, gave her the hint of a smile. ‘Welcome, Harpa. It has been a long time.’

  Neutral. She couldn’t read his mood. Damn…

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Chowdry. It has been a long time since I was back home.’ She kept all recrimination out of her voice.

  Iqbal recovered himself. ‘Please sit, we’ll have some tea.’

  Harpa felt Mikah take her hand and was grateful for it. Nav glanced at him then turned to his father.

  ‘Dad…we’ve come because we have to ask you something. Something important and I would ask you, as your only son, for you to be honest with us.’

  The wary look was back in his father’s eyes, but he nodded. ‘If I can.’

  Nav took a deep breath. ‘Here it is….Monica Lascelles has claimed that you, and not Arjun Malhotra, are Harpa’s biological father. Are you aware of her claims?’

  ‘I am.’

  Harpa couldn’t bear the tension. ‘Is it true?’ Her voice was soft but heavy with emotion. Iqbal gazed at her, and a small smile played on his lips.

  ‘Yes.’

  Harpa let out the breath she was holding in and with the rush of air, tears popped into her eyes and she crumbled. Mikah hugged her to him. Iqbal got up and walked to her side, Nav getting up so he could sit next to his daughter.

  ‘Harpa,’ Iqbal said softly, ‘Your mother told me at the time that she had fallen pregnant. We argued. I was afraid the affair would become common knowledge, that my position in the community would become untenable. My wife….my beloved wife…was the one with the family connections, not me and if it became knowledge, then she would leave me. But I wanted to be part of your life. Your father…I mean, Arjun, would not permit it. As for as he was concerned, you were his daughter. At first, I was resigned, but as you grew, I became resentful, angry. When my wife died suddenly, I went to him, told him I wanted my daughter back. He refused. Then the families started warring and I was on the opposite side to your grandfather and your father. When he was exiled, he sent you away, and I knew I would never see you again.’

  Harpa studied him. His old eyes were full of remorse – and of hope. Hope that she would be part of his life. Harpa looked away from him.

  ‘Did you kill my dad?’

  ‘I did not. But neither was I ignorant that it was going to happen.’

  Harpa swallowed and closed her eyes. ‘And my sister? Why was she targeted for so long?’ She glanced at Nav who nodded.

  ‘Yes, Dad, and I was as much to blame for that…. I just got caught up in the frenzy of anti-Malhotra feeling. But I too would like to know why Cosima was such a threat.’

  Iqbal hesitated. ‘Because she was Arjun’s daughter and he had taken my own daughter from me. So…if I couldn’t have my daughter, then neither should he.’

  Harpa felt sick. ‘And her kidnapping earlier this year? Was that your people?’

  Iqbal shook his head. ‘No, and I have made extensive investigations within our circle but no-one is admitting anything, and I think the threat must have come from outside.’

  They all sat in silence for a time. ‘Did you love my mom?’

  ‘I was enchanted for a time. To my great regret, I was not strong enough to resist her charms.’

  Harpa gave a humorless laugh. ‘She has that effect.’

  ‘I take it you are not close.’

  ‘No, we are not. In fact, I don’t plan on ever being the same room as her ever again.’ Harpa’s voice was getting higher now, angry, the rush of emotions an unstoppable torrent. She stood up and paced.

  The three men in the room were silent as she stalked about the room. When finally she stood still, she looked at Iqbal. ‘Arjun was my dad, even if he wasn’t my father.’

  Iqbal nodded. ‘Understood. Look, Harpa, I do not expect anything from you except perhaps we can be friends.’

  Harpa gazed at him, still conflicted. ‘I don’t know, Iqbal. I really don’t.’

  He smiled gently. ‘Shall we try?’

  She hesitated and then nodded. Iqbal’s shoulders relaxed. ‘Thank you. Now, as my guests, you will stay for lunch, yes?’

  Saturday morning and Cosima woke up late, with the faintest hangover banging around her head. She wasn’t a big drinker but last night had been such a triumph, such a landmark day in her personal and professional life that she threw caution to the wind. Of course, most of the drinking had occurred later, alone with Arlo, most of the champagne being sprayed all over her body and then licked off by him slowly until she was screaming his name. Then his huge, pumping cock had sent her into heaven, again and again, late into the night.

  She slipped out of bed and into the shower, feeling the relief of being clean again after the hot night. Throwing on some shorts and a t-shirt, she wandered out into the living room to find Arlo had left her a message. Going out to get fresh bagels, be back soon. I love you, A.

  She wondered how the rest of the hotel was coping with the sudden influx of customers. Today was the first day that the whole hotel was open for business and Cosima suddenly wondered at the wisdom of living above it; she hoped the manager they had hired was proficient and didn’t keep bothering them with problems. The woman, Ellie, had been their first pick; college degree, experience, and a warm, efficient manner. Her references had been glowing, and Cosima liked her immensely.

  Five minutes later, Arlo came through the door, grinning. ‘Good morning, beauty.’ He kissed her then showed her the bags. ‘I got pre-filled ones because I was feeling lazy.’

  ‘Good idea.’ She slipped her arms around his waist. ‘Today should be all about lazy.’

  ‘I agree.’

  They ate at the table next to the vast window that looked out over New Orleans, and Cosima told him about her concerns they might be living too close to work. She grinned while she was telling him but he nodded. ‘Hey, I’ve been wondering about that too. Sweetheart, we talked about San Francisco a while back…what are your feelings on it now?’

  Cosima took a bite of her bagel as she considered. ‘As long as my wretched mother isn’t still there,’ she joked but then nodded. ‘I like the idea that we can go anywhere, anytime now and I really would like to see where you grew up. And meet Margaret of course. Do you have any real family left?’

  ‘A couple of cousins. One’s in the music business; the other lives in Lima. You might meet Dash, though, he’s a riot.’

  ‘And you’ve already met all of my family. I wish you could have met my dad.’

  ‘And I wish you could have met Mason. My brother would have adored you.’

  She nudged his shoulder with her own. ‘I guess, if we want a bigger family, we’re going to have to make our own.’ She realized what she said and colored. ‘Not that I mean…’

  ‘It’s something we should talk about,’ Arlo said evenly. ‘There’s nothing I’d like better than to have kids with you but I get the sense your career comes first.’

  She nodded. ‘I’m not ready for them yet, that’s a definite. But yeah, maybe, eventually.’

  ‘And of course, there’s the little matter of you marrying me.’

  She grinned. ‘I remember what you sai
d to me the day you came to New Orleans.’

  ‘That I was one hundred percent sure I was going to marry you?’

  She nodded and laughed. ‘So cocky.’

  Arlo grinned. ‘And yet so right. So, tell me, Cosima Malhotra, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?’

  Harpa was lost in thought as they drove back to the hotel that afternoon. Lunch had been a pleasant affair, but the conversation was mostly led by Mikah talking to Iqbal about the art that hung on his walls. Harpa was grateful – yet again – for her lover’s understanding and patience. Really there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her, she realized. Oh, how much I love you, she thought now, looking at his handsome face, his ear-splitting smile as he chatted easily to Naveen. Her brother. She giggled, and the two men looked at her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I think it just hit me. I have a brother as well as a sister.’

  Naveen checked her cheek with his finger. ‘You do. It’s weird for me too, given our mutual family histories. So much blood and anger.’

  Harpa nodded. ‘But we can start to make up for it.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that.’

  Back at the hotel, Harpa and Mikah arranged to meet Nav later for drinks, but as they headed back up to the room, Mikah turned to her. ‘When we get back to the room, there’s something I want you to do before we take a nap…or whatever we decide to do. He grinned wickedly, but his eyes were serious.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Your mother isn’t the only one who can give interviews. Last night, at the opening, your sister gave a pretty lengthy interview to a journalist, and it’s something else. Something special. You need to read it.’

  In the room, he handed her his iPad, and she sat, a lump already forming in her throat. First, she looked at the pictures; Cosima looking radiant, her dark red dress hugging her curves, and the look of surprise when the new hotel name was unveiled. Harpa smiled; it had been so hard not to reveal the secret that Arlo had confided in her. She remembered that conversation clearly.

  ‘I’m worried she’ll think it’s cheesy,’ he had told her, and Harpa had laughed.