Page 26 of Claiming His Bollywood Cinderella

“Your father and mother called separately about nine times each. Rita told me that under no circumstance was I allowed to let them reach you until we looked over the subject of their calls first.”

There was a question in her tone and Vikram answered it first. “She’s right. Only Daadi, Virat, Anya, Zara, and now you...as well as Rita, of course, have access to my private number. It’s not to be given out to anyone else. Including my parents.”

Her eyes went wide. “Zara as in Zara Khan, the spectacular actress I adore who doesn’t let anyone tell her how to live her life? The Zara Khan who’s won three national awards, the Zara Khan who runs a shelter for abused women, that Zara Khan, right?”

“Yes. Zara’s my oldest friend.”

“I’ll not do this to anyone else I meet but please, if we run into her over the next few weeks, will you introduce me? I’d love to ask for her autograph. I know it’s childish but Zara’s just amazing and I love her.”

Zara was the most amazing woman he’d ever known. The one constant in his life. “It’s not in the schedule but if she comes, yes, I’ll introduce you, Ms. Menon.” And since teasing her was like breathing, he said, “You don’t want my autograph?”

“Not really,” she said immediately, scrunching that adorable nose at him. “I’ve got what I want from you, Mr. Raawal.”

The outrageously bold declaration made him tip back his head and laugh loudly. Vikram had to fist his hands at his sides or he’d be grabbing her with both hands and scaring the hell out of her. Desire was a tiger clawing under his skin. “What exactly is that, Ms. Menon?”

“This job,” she said sweetly, challenge in her expression.

Ha! So the minx wanted to do battle, did she?

“So back to—”

“Anybody else who wants to contact me calls you on the line Rita gave to you. Every call needs to be—”

“Screened by me first. No one can reach you, yes, I know. Even if your mother’s—”

“Even if my mother’s screaming threats of destruction at you.” He sighed. “Like I said, her penchant for drama pervades everything she says and does. But she doesn’t have a vicious bone in her body.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t afraid of what Mrs. Raawal might do to me. I was worried more that she might find out that my stepmother is Jaya Pandit. Jaya Ma doesn’t need any more bad luck and your mother’s a woman of considerable influence in the industry.”

“You have my word that no one will harm you or your loved ones in any way because of your...association with me.” He cleared his throat. “It’s important to me that you believe that, Ms. Menon. No actions of yours, past or future, will be used against you. I’d never abuse my position of power like that. If I fire you, it will be because you either violated the NDA you’ve signed or because you’re not up to the job. Is that clear?”

The confusion in her eyes cleared. But she didn’t look away. She didn’t play coy. The truth of their night shimmered in her eyes. Along with her conviction in him. And the furor in his chest calmed at her absolute trust in him.

She looked back down at the list, though she remained quiet for a while. The silence lingered on, but it didn’t rush at Vikram like it had done. It had a comforting quality to it now.

“So there’s a woman who’s contacted your mother who’s claimed that she’s...” She cleared her throat and tried again. “That she...”

Whatever pleasure he’d felt instantly siphoned out of Vikram, leaving only hardness behind. He popped another sliver of orange into his mouth but the sweetness felt like nothing on his tongue. He chewed and swallowed, forcing himself to speak. “Whatever it is, Ms. Menon, just say it. If you hesitate like this every time my father creates a new problem for me to solve, we’ll get nothing done.”

“Your mother has been receiving notes and calls from this anonymous woman claiming to be pregnant with your father’s child. She said she’s tried to deal with it on her own but hasn’t succeeded.”

“Is the woman demanding money?”

“Something like that, yes.” She turned the page on the notepad and tapped her pen. “The gist of your father’s messages was that he’d never met this lady before. At the time of...” She ran her fingers through her hair a couple of times, and Vikram watched bemused as it sprang back exactly as it had been before. “He pointed out that at what would have been the time of conception, he’d been in Paris with a different lady love of his. He also got pretty upset...”

“You’re to hang up immediately if he’s being—”

“He was drunk, I believe. Not aggressive. I couldn’t hang up on him, Mr. Raawal. He sounded close to tears.” She held up a palm, ordering him to be silent when he’d have interrupted again. “So I did call the hotel in Paris for confirmation he was with that other woman. I also crawled through that particular lady’s social media account and while she doesn’t come out and say she was with your father at the time, there’s enough information to figure out that he’s telling the truth. As per Rita’s instructions for what to do in these scenarios, I passed on the blackmailer’s information and all the other evidence I’d gathered to your lawyer. I mentioned it now just to keep you informed.”

She didn’t wait for him to say anything. He hated that he had to be grateful to her for the intense awkwardness. But then most of his adult life had been like this. “Shall we move on to the next thing?” she asked, still all business and he nodded.

“There’s a report from your sister’s PA that I’m to pass on to you.” He heard the curiosity in her voice but she didn’t indulge it. “There’s a conflict between an awards show in Mumbai you promised to appear at and the charity youth program that you, Anya and Virat oversee in Delhi.”

“Cancel my appearance at the awards show. I go to enough of the damned things; there’s one in the Maldives while we’re there.”

She made a note, flipped through the notepad a few more times and made more notes on the two phones. “Those are the most important ones for now. Oh, and I heard from the retired actress you wanted on this project, Mrs. Saira Ahmed. She said, ‘Tell your boss I’m not coming out of retirement just to help his self-indulgent, masala pop trash movie become a reality. His grandfather Vijay would be turning in his grave at what his grandson has done to his beloved production house.’”

Vikram sighed. There was no amount of money or gifts that would change Mrs. Ahmed’s mind. Damn it, he’d tried. He’d even hoped that throwing around Virat’s name—after all, to the true artists among them, his brother was a better Raawal than he, might sway the stubborn old goat’s mind. “That’s that then.”

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