“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.
Two
“So you finally hired a firm?”
“Yes, Ma,” Arjun said into the phone. He’d just finished updating his mother on the progress with the hotel. “Their lead architect is Indian so she really understands the look I’m going for.” Arjun smiled as he remembered he’d be seeing Rani tonight. RKS was throwing a reception to celebrate the signing of the contract.
“That is excellent. How long until the hotel is completed?”
He was glad his mother hadn’t gotten comfortable with video chatting and they were just doing a voice call so he didn’t have to hide his eye roll. He knew what was coming next.
“I’m not sure. The designs have not been finalized yet.”
“Arjun, do not lie to your mother. You would not have signed the contract without an end date.” Arjun swore under his breath. His mother knew him too well.
“They have six months. With a bonus for doing it in five.”
“That is good news. You know, pandit-ji told me that there is an auspicious date in March for your wedding to Hema.”
Arjun sighed into the phone. “Ma, again the same old thing.”
“Aaare, pandit-ji believes such an auspicious date won’t come for another two years. And look, the timing works out with your hotel. All the stars are aligned.”
Of course, the pandit, his mother’s well-paid priest, had managed to find an opportune date that corresponded to the exact amount of time his mother needed to plan a big fat Indian wedding.
“I don’t understand the rush, Ma.”
“Rush! Hema and her family have been waiting patiently for you for five years. And now that we are business partners, it’s not right to keep delaying. Best to solidify our relationship with Hema’s family. Come home in a month for the Diwali holidays and we will do the official engagement.”
Arjun rolled his neck to ease the tension out of his shoulders. He was running out of excuses with his parents and with Hema’s. It was his dream to expand their empire globally but his family’s wealth was tied up in assets. He didn’t have the liquid cash to make it happen. Hema’s family were close friends and had approached him about a billion-dollar deal that was hard to pass up. The Vegas hotel was the first in a planned chain of high-end luxury hotels around the world. The arranged marriage with Hema had been suggested by his parents as a way to ensure that their business relationship was cemented with a personal one. Arjun had agreed. Hema was a nice woman, well versed in his family traditions, and he’d already had his heart broken. He wasn’t going to marry for love, so why not marry someone who was guaranteed to fit in with his family?
“Why can’t we just wait until the hotel is finished and do the engagement and wedding all at the same time? I’ll be really busy the next few months.”
While he intended to marry Hema, a formal engagement took the commitment to the next level and he didn’t want to go there. Yet.
“If we do the engagement during the wedding week, it will be one more party that nobody will remember. This way it will be special. I will send the jet. You can fly overnight and be back in two days’ time.”
“Ma...”
“Come on now, haven’t you sown enough of your wild rice, as they say in America?”
Arjun smiled. “The expression is sowing wild oats, Ma.”
“Yes, yes, wild oats.” She softened her tone. “It would be good for you to come home, beta, even for a short trip. Your sisters are giving me daily heartburn. Now Divya is on a new kick saying she wants to get a job in Delhi and live by herself. And then there’s Sameer...”
Arjun sighed. There was a constant tension in his household between his very traditional and strict parents and his rebellious brother and three sisters. He talked with his mother for a few more minutes about the brewing problems with his siblings.
Ten seconds after he hung up with her, his phone zinged with the melody of “We Are Family.”
It was a text from his sister Divya. Please talk some sense into Mom. I’m an educated, grown woman with life goals. She expects me to sit at home waiting to get married.
Divya had obviously overhead his mother complaining to him about her. Subtlety was not his mother’s strong suit. He hated being caught between his parents and his siblings but it was the role he had to play to keep the household peace.
Give me some time, I will figure something out, he texted back.
His sister wasn’t easily placated but she agreed to give him time to think of a solution.
The rest of his afternoon was a blur of decisions that needed to be made for the hotel. He welcomed the distraction because they were problems he could actually solve. At five thirty, he asked his chauffeur, Sam, to drive him to RKS Architecture.
He exited the Lexus ES at the precise invitation time and instructed Sam to stay close. He hated corporate receptions and didn’t plan to stay long.
When he walked through the doors of the firm, he stopped short. A few weeks ago when he’d first come to hear their pitch, the lobby had been unmemorable and generic. Today, it was transformed. Silk curtains in royal blue and gol
d hung across temporary walls that created cozy gathering places. Hand-carved wooden settees with rich fabric cushions were set between the curtains. A jeweled chandelier hung over each area, throwing glimmering beams of light that created intimate shadows.
His feet were glued to the floor, taking in the breathtaking scene. It was like the darbar of an old Indian palace. It almost looked like a painting that hung in his home of what the house’s grand hall looked like back when his great-great-great-grandfather was a king, and used the space as his court.
“Do you like it?”
He turned to see Rani Gupta smiling at him. Her hair was pulled back into a chignon and her dark eyes were lined with black kohl. Her lips had a slight tinge of gloss. He liked that her makeup was minimal; she was a natural beauty.
He nodded, barely able to contain his excitement. “I want this for my lobby.”
Rani’s smile widened and he tried not to stare. For the past year and a half, every business contact whose palms he’d greased to get his hotel built in record time had set him up with the most stunning women Vegas had to offer. None had caught his eye. But Rani Gupta had captured his attention from the moment he first saw her. Maybe it was the fact that she’d seen his vision for the hotel like no one else. Or maybe it was her big round eyes that sparked with a mixture of intense yearning and dark sadness. She was dressed in a generic black pantsuit with a cream blouse. As boring an outfit as a woman could wear, and yet heat burned deep in his core.
Speaking of wild oats. He smacked the thought from his mind. He didn’t enter into a relationship unless there was an easy exit strategy. And getting involved with a woman at work violated too many boundaries.
“I was hoping you’d like it. I have some jaali walls to show you, as well. I was thinking we could use the same design throughout the hotel to give it a sense of connected flow.”
Rani Gupta, you’ve managed to do something rare. You’ve surprised and impressed me. He had been expecting the usual corporate reception with mediocre wines, bloated executives and bland food.
As if on cue, several of the firm’s senior partners showed up. Rani faded into the background as Arjun was introduced around the firm. The CEO, Ian Rabat, spoke with an authority that belied his slim five-foot-six-inch frame and took charge of introducing Arjun to his senior staff. Arjun didn’t bother to keep track of the names of the men, who wore almost identical gray or black suits with patterned ties. Arjun vaguely remembered them from the original pitch meeting. Each man was the vice president of one thing or another. “Every significant member of the RKS team is here for you tonight, Mr. Singh,” Ian Rabat roared with his arms spread. Arjun nodded as if he were impressed but knew that like him, each of the executives was wondering when they could clock out. They talked about the weather, the traffic and the stock market.
“Tell me, Mr. Singh, why choose Vegas for your first US hotel?” The question came from a rotund man with a jovial smile and thinning hair. Arjun remembered that he was the head of the accounting department.
“Honestly, it was about opportunity. I have been considering expanding to America for years. Then the Sandaway went up for sale. It was the right size, and I thought remodeling and rebranding it was the fastest way to get into the US market.”
“You’re an astute businessman. The hotel is well built and in a prime location. With our designs, it truly will be spectacular and attract the kind of high rollers you want,” Ian Rabat said grandly. Arjun stifled the urge to roll his eyes. It had taken him more than a year to find the right property, and even longer to find the right design firm. Scratch that, the right architect.
“Why call it the Mahal hotel?” The question came from a gaunt-looking man named Pierce Waters, who headed the legal department.
“Mahal in Hindi means palace...”
“Ah, like the Taj Mahal,” exclaimed Pierce. “I took a trip there six years ago with my wife. Let me tell you...”
Arjun stifled his boredom and let the man talk till he found his chance to excuse himself to go to the bathroom. He would’ve left the party but he wanted to talk to Rani one more time.
He found her fussing with pillows. “You know you’re an interior architect, not a decorator. Surely you have people to do this?”
She turned and smiled. “I think interior architecture and decorating go hand in hand. Especially for a project like this.” She held up a pillow and then pointed to the intricate design on the wall. “The pillows are embroidered in the same pattern that’ll be carved into the wall. When done right, interior decoration flows from the architecture. What do you think?”
The light from the jeweled chandelier threw a soft glow on her face, and he found himself drawn deep into her eyes. He smiled. Rani Gupta, you really have my attention now.
“You’ve impressed me. I think you have a lot of talent.”
“Thank you, Mr. Singh.”
It’s Mr. Singh now. “Rani, I insist you call me Arjun.”
Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before a neutral expression settled over her features. “I prefer we keep things formal. A wise man once said that it’s best not to let business get personal.”
She’d quoted him.
“I feel a distinct disadvantage. You’ve researched me, yet I know nothing about you.”
He took a step closer, into her personal space, to allow a waiter to pass behind him. Her lips parted slightly, her pink mouth seductively lush. The pillow fell from her hands. A hot thunder raged deep in his core and he was tempted to kiss her senseless.
He stepped back, mentally scolding himself. They’d be working together for months, and he was her client. He didn’t want to put her in an awkward position, especially not with her bosses in the same room. He gave himself the same admonition he often lobbed at his brother: keep it in your pants.
“Is your phone playing ‘We Are Family’?” Rani asked with amusement in her voice. Arjun realized his phone was chirping. He looked at the message; it was from Hema. Your mom is planning a Diwali engagement. Do something, please!! Delay another year++
Annoyance churned through him. Hema wasn’t ready to get married any more than he was, but she never expressed her feelings to anyone but him. He was in an awkward situation since Hema’s father was a major investor in his hotel. Yet she left it up to him to solve their problem. Just like his sisters did.
“Everything okay?”
Rani’s voice pulled his attention back to her. He gave a dismissive wave. “Yes.”
“You seem a little upset. Was the message from one of your family members?”
Had he let his emotions show so blatantly? He prided himself on his poker face; it was essential for his business success.
“Do you have brothers or sisters, Rani?”
She nodded. “One brother and one sister.”
“Are they younger or older?”
“I’m the eldest.”
“That must be a lot of responsibility.”
“You know how being the eldest is a lot of pressure in an Indian family. Parents expect you to bring the younger ones to heel when they get out of line, and the siblings want the older one to fight their battles with the parents.” She gave a small smile and a knowing gaze that pierced through him. He had the feeling that she knew what he was going through and was inviting him to unburden himself. He could picture it, them sitting down on the pillowed diwan and talking to her about the crises brewing in his house. Have I gone mad? He did not share information about his family with anyone. Nor had he ever been tempted to.
Rani was still looking at him with her deep dark eyes and he felt a magnetic draw to her.
Rani is off-limits!
He straightened his back and changed the subject. “I think you’re off to a great start with this project.”
“Thank you. We should set up regular meetings so we can finalize the designs and start c
onstruction in parallel. We’re on a tight timeline, and I hope to work closely with you over the next few weeks so we can meet your deadlines.”
Work closely? He had enough complications in his life. He didn’t need one more. Rani pulled at his heart strings in a way that made him want to get close to her. Not only was he going to be working with her, he wasn’t sure he could delay his engagement and marriage to Hema any longer.
“I’m pretty busy so you’ll be dealing with my staff from here on out.”
Three
Rani anxiously paced the marble-floored lobby of Arjun’s office. Will he attend the meeting? It was a question she hadn’t been able to get a straight answer to. It had been two weeks since the reception. Since the moment when he’d really come close to her, when she’d felt something she didn’t know she could experience: desire. Even now, standing in the cool lobby with its funky wall art and bright white lighting, the thought of him made her warm all over.
What happened at the RKS party? They’d been having a nice conversation but then all of a sudden he’d said goodbye and walked out. The next day, Vanessa Knott had emailed to say she would be Rani’s primary contact. While Rani didn’t expect Arjun to be involved with every little detail, he seemed to have disappeared.
What did I do wrong?
Had he read her mind that night? Seen her studying him? Lusting after him?
She’d slept fitfully the entire week. She was either tossing and turning, thinking about seeing him again, or dreaming of Arjun when she was asleep. Dreaming was the wrong word. Fantasizing. She had woken up hot, with an ache that screamed for relief. In all her research, there wasn’t a single picture of him shirtless, yet in her dreams he had appeared naked.
What is wrong with me? She was acting like a horny teenager. Then she thought back to the advice her mother had given her the night before her wedding. Sex is something women endure to hold on to their husbands and have children. Like a good Indian girl, Rani had saved herself for marriage, but she wasn’t uneducated. At the time Rani had thought about how traditional and reserved her Indian mother was, and felt sorry for her. But after five years of marital relations with Navin, she realized that her mother’s advice had been very sage. It wasn’t that the sex had been bad, it just hadn’t been good enough to inspire sleepless nights. Navin had always said that she was sexually repressed. She figured that either years of her parents’ inhibitions had seeped into her, or the fact that she hadn’t lost her virginity in high school like all her friends had retarded her sexual growth.
Marriage by Arrangement Page 2
