by Nisha Sharma
“Christ, Mom—”
She slammed the rolling pin onto the counter. “We didn’t send you to religious studies at the gurdwara for years so you can come in here saying ‘Christ’ or ‘Jesus!’ Show some respect, Hem. All I’m saying is that I saw your brother Zail in a magazine with some girl at a Hollywood fund-raiser party. When I asked him about her, what does he say? That he forgot her name already. So shameless. Your cousins are younger than you and already have children!”
“Yeah, that’s because they live in farmhouses in Punjab, Mom. What else is there to do out there besides ride tractors, eat sugarcane, and make babies?”
“Hem, I’m being serious. When are you going to settle down with a nice girl? Lisa was so long ago.”
“A year and a half isn’t long,” he said, praying for patience. His mother was picking at a scab and he knew sooner or later he would bleed.
“Lisa was not right for you. She ran because she couldn’t handle a little pressure.”
“A little pressure? Mom, I hadn’t even proposed and you were showing her wedding venues and save the date cards.”
“See? Nothing. How would she have dealt with the extended family?”
“Lisa and I hadn’t been dating long enough to deal with extended family—”
“Two years is very long, Hem.”
“—and you never gave her a chance to adjust! Look, I don’t want to talk about Lisa. She’s gone just like you two wanted.”
“Your sadness is never something we want. But it’s in the past, and time for you and your father to let it go. You need someone who can handle the pressure you’re under and stand by your side. You need a woman who can interpret both sides of you.”
Both sides. The Punjabi and the American side. The traditional and religious part of him that he cherished, versus the corporate business owner.
Was his mother right? Had Lisa ever truly understood all of him? What if she wasn’t strong enough, and the reason why she left him was because their differences scared her? A dull ache spread in his chest. Old wounds.
“Let’s not talk about this,” he said. “Finding the right woman is not my priority right now.” He had a fleeting thought of Mina but brushed it aside.
“Hem, you have so much love to give.”
“I’ll give it to you and my brothers,” he said as she slipped another parantha onto his plate. “I know you want Dad to be happy, but marriage isn’t the answer. Not right now. However, I think I have something that could work for the company . . .”
She stood on the other side of the island, spatula in hand. “Tell me.”
He gave her the full recap of the day’s events. Ajay would take the lead, Hem would act as legal, and Zail would be increasing his trips back East.
He could tell that his mother’s hope blossomed as he continued to tell her details of the plan.
“Fight them,” she said in Punjabi. “Fight WTA and give them back what they did to us, ruining our reputation and almost killing your father. Put them through the same pain.”
“We will, Mom.”
Hem’s mother nodded, taking the empty plate away. “Your father been dealing with so much. His sons are not married, his eldest does not want his birthright, and even his brothers in India are suffering. Your father thinks that your uncle Gopal has been gambling.”
“What? I didn’t know there were issues.”
Hem’s mother nodded. “I told your father to bring him out here, get him away from the things that tempt him, but he never got the chance. And now with his heart attack . . .”
“Do you want me to deal with Gopal?”
“No, my bacha. Not now. You have more important things to take care of. Go upstairs and see your father. Find out how he’s doing and tell him your news. Then we’ll figure out everything else.”
Hem kissed his mom’s temple before passing her his empty plate, washing his hands at the marble sink, and walking up the wide staircase to the east wing of the house. He opened the last door at the end of the hall and peeked inside. The majestic four poster bed was empty, which made Hem open the door wider in alarm.
He turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and saw the older man sitting in a rocking chair facing the gardens outside. A mud-colored shawl was draped around his shoulders and his head was tipped back. He stared blankly at the view of the back of the estate.
“Papa?” Hem said quietly. His heart pounded. This was not how he’d expected his first meeting with his father to go. The paranthas sat heavy in his stomach. The sour words that had passed between them echoed in his head.
His father’s head cocked to the left indicating that he was awake. Hem stepped into the room, his bare feet silent on the plush carpet. When he stood in front of his father, taking in the listless expression, the unfocused eyes, his own heart felt like it was breaking. This brilliant, vibrant man was a shell of himself. Hem would give anything to see him burning with fire again, even if that meant he’d be hurt in the process.
“You came to see me,” the whispered voice said in Punjabi.
“Of course,” Hem said. “Always getting yourself into trouble, right, Papa?”
There was a hint of a smile, and Hem could feel the tears well his throat. “Your mother thinks it’s the mango pickle.”
“She could be right.”
“Don’t you know by now? Your mother is always right.”
Hem laughed, and the sound was a little watery. He hitched up his jeans and sat on the floor at the base of his father’s feet. He rested his elbows on his knees and looked up at the sullen, gray face.
“How is my papa?” he said, putting their angry words and resentment in the past. He reached out and gripped his father’s large hand in his.
“Vadiya. My oldest son has come home.”
Tears pricked Hem’s eyes. “Yes. And I’m working with Ajay and Zail to help you fight WTA for good.”
“You’re working for Bharat?”
“Consulting. But yes. Focus on your health. Everyone thinks you’re designing software so you have time to heal while we take care of things.”
“Are you c-coming b-back?”
Hem debated telling his father a lie. There was too much hope in his face, just like his mother’s. “I don’t think so, Papa.”
They sat in silence for a long time. The muffled steps of staff in the halls periodically interrupted their thoughts.
“Shall I tell you something interesting that your oldest discovered today?” Hem said in Punjabi.
That earned a sideways glance, the way it always used to as a child when he promised his father interesting news.
“Sanjeev sent his niece, Mina Kohli, to the meeting today. She looks like a typical sardarni. Long hair, very tall. She’s managing the compensation committee that’s supposed to deliberate on this dumb offer.”
His father turned now to look at him, the haziness cleared for a moment from his eyes. “Are you going to see her again?” he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
“Yes, we’ll be working together.”
The corner of his mouth turned up in the barest hint of a rare, precious smile. “Good.”
Chapter Five
Mina had seen her fair share of beautiful men, but the Singh brothers were in a whole different league. They were like the Punjabis her mother warned her about when she was a child. Their edges weren’t just rough, they were serrated. Built, with smooth dark skin and light brown eyes, their masculinity was barely restrained in custom-fit suits.
Especially Hemdeep Singh.
It had been a few days since she’d seen him, but in that time, she’d done nothing but obsess about the way she reacted in the boardroom. It had to be his height.
For a man, height had advantages. For a woman . . . Well, not as much. Mina’s made her miserable in her teen years, irritated in her college and law school days, and pissed her off as an adult. Men were always intimidated by her height and assumed that because she was tall, her strength outmatched the
irs. The minute she stood up and faced Hem, she knew that he wouldn’t have the same insecurity. Even with heels, a tool and a love she’d learned to embrace, Hem towered over her.
Mina gave herself countless lectures on how to avoid focusing on the oldest Singh when she had to start doc review. By the time she reached the Bharat offices for her meeting, she was sure she appeared the image of confidence and control. Mina Kohli was not going to flirt again. Nope. No way, no how. She was going to be completely immune to his charm.
The receptionist greeted her when she was buzzed into the lobby. While she waited for Ajay’s assistant to come out to retrieve her, Mina walked over to the framed magazine covers that hung on the wall. All of them featured Deepak Singh’s brilliance and the legacy that he was leaving behind, but not one mentioned his sons.
Although Hem, Ajay, and Zail had periodically made it into conference or business news, she couldn’t find much about their private lives. Not one had a social media account or even a company distributed headshot. The most current article she found was of Zail’s attendance at a Hollywood fund-raiser with an actress, but the piece was focused more on the actress than Zail.
“Ms. Kohli?” a voice said from behind her. She turned to see a young, fresh-faced man holding an iPad in one hand and a temporary badge in the other. “I’m Mr. Singh’s assistant, Rafael. If you’ll follow me, he and his brothers are waiting for you.”
He led the way down the hall and turned into a corner office. Mina paused at the entrance. The wall of windows overlooked expansive water and cityscape. In front of the windows was a mahogany desk with a high-back leather chair. Clustered in the center of the room were a leather couch and two armchairs surrounding a glass-top coffee table.
Ajay sat behind the desk, Zail sprawled over the couch, and Hem stood. Did they know they looked like three hungry tigers? Lucky for her, she wasn’t intimidated by beasts.
Well, not really.
“Gentlemen,” she said.
“Mina,” Hem replied. “Welcome back.”
Mina heard the door close quietly behind her. Within moments, a privacy screen lowered to block out the clear windows and glass door.
“I hope you’re all rested after this week’s excitement,” she said as she crossed the room and sat in the vacant client chair.
“What excitement?” Zail said with a grin. “Here, that’s just another typical work day.”
“I’m sure. I need to develop a process for our due diligence report, and a list of the documents for each member reviewing your company files. Although I’ll only be hands-on with the patent documents and patent applications in progress, I’ll still review the findings of both financials and market share analysis reports completed by the other committee members.”
“You’ll have access to the executives, but everything will go through Hem,” Ajay said.
“That’s fine.” She paused, debating whether or not she should ask her question. When Hem arched one bold brow in her direction, she said, “Do you know why WTA wants to take over the company?”
“It has to do with government contracts they would like to fulfill,” Ajay replied.
“You have to give me more than that,” she said. “For this to work, we have to be honest with each other.”
Hem inched closer. “That is the honest answer. WTA wants to use Bharat’s patented software for their military contracts. We found out from our father that there was a preliminary meeting he had with WTA’s CEO a few months ago. A one-off encounter. It left a bad taste in his mouth. We don’t have any more specifics than that.”
Mina thought about what her uncle had said and realized that Sanjeev may have been telling her the truth. Once she got more involved in due diligence, she’d be able to discover the software WTA wanted, but for now, Hem’s explanation was enough.
“Okay, then I guess the next thing to take care of is meeting your father. When is Mr. Singh coming back from California?”
The brothers looked at each other again, filling the room with silence.
“This is not a trick question,” she said.
“My father is . . . unavailable,” Hem replied. “For an undetermined period of time.”
“What does that mean? He knows that he has a fiduciary duty to the board in seeing this through, right?”
“He suffered from a heart attack five days ago, and he’s on bed rest,” Zail added.
“What? Oh my god.”
“We’re asking you to keep that information to yourself,” Ajay said. “If he doesn’t improve at the rate his doctors expect, then Hem, Zail, and I will report to the board and the shareholders. But for now, we’re not telling anyone. It’s too much stress for him and he needs to focus on getting better.”
Mina realized the implications of what they were telling her. Shit. They’d put her in a position and they knew it. “Why are you telling me the truth?”
“Because Hem said that we should,” Ajay replied. “And Hem is almost never wrong.”
“I technically have a duty to the board—”
“You have a duty to the board to review WTA’s offer and that’s it,” Hem said. “We’re working together here. We don’t know each other right now, don’t trust each other, but we have to start somewhere and this is the first step we’re taking with you.”
He reached out as if he was about to touch her hand. His fingers were long, with the appearance of calloused tips that Mina was itching to feel. Even though he pulled back, the thought of his nearness had her scrambling to her feet.
“Everyone knows your father is the brains of this company,” she said as she tried to regain control of her hormones. “Do you have any idea what could happen if he doesn’t recover? If there is any reason to accept WTA’s offer, this is it.”
“Give us the time it takes for you to review the patents and the applications in progress,” Hem said. “If he isn’t back in the office by then, we’ll support whatever decision you make and choose to report to the board.”
That’s why they looked so determined, so vicious when she saw them for the first time. Their father’s heart attack was probably directly related to the offer from WTA. Mina pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to work through the worst-case scenario.
“I . . . appreciate that you trusted me with this information, but you’ve put me in a difficult position, and you know it. For now, I’ll keep quiet, but I need you to let me know the minute something changes. This could affect . . . everything.”
“Done,” Hem said. He stood as well and motioned to the door.
“Oh, and one more thing. This calls for a favor.”
“A favor?” Ajay said.
“Yes. I’m doing you a favor. When the time comes, I’m going to call in a favor of my own. If we’re going to trust each other, this is me trusting you to give me your word.”
“What kind of favor?” Zail asked.
“Who knows? After this I could need a job, and you’ll have to hire me.” She laughed. In truth, her request was more of a gut reaction. All she truly understood was that when it came time to do a takeover of her own, it wouldn’t hurt to have the Singhs on her side.
The brothers looked at each other before they all nodded.
“I’ll show you to the conference room,” Hem said. “Ajay and our CFO, Damany Gordon, will show you the breadth of material to review before and after going public. You’ll be alone with him for most of the morning but I’ll sit in to field any questions during the afternoon.”
Mina shot him a narrowed look. “Your supervision is not just an attempt to get me to eat Indian food with you, is it?”
Hem grinned. “You’re the only one missing out. Not only would I be paying, but we’d get Moghul Express.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Am I wearing you down?”
“I’ll let you know.” She brushed past him and nearly flushed when he pressed his large hand on the small of her back to escort her out. She felt the familiar rush of desire and s
he had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, just to get out of the office without stumbling.
When they stepped into the hallway, her phone rang in her hand. Mina paused when she saw the name on the screen.
“Need to get that?” Hem said.
“Yeah, give me a moment,” Mina said absently and answered. “Hello?”
The rich, husky sound of her friend’s voice filtered through the phone. “Happy belated birthday, dost.”
“Thanks, friend,” Mina said. “For a second I thought there was something wrong for you to be calling in the middle of your incredibly busy work day.”
“Running a company does have its perks. Like I’m the boss and can do what I want.”
Rajneet Hothi and Mina met at a professional minority women’s organization when they were fresh out of college. Raj went on to own a multimillion-dollar company, even though not many people knew she was the brains behind her organization.
“I hope I can be in your shoes one day.”
“Don’t worry, you will. Listen, what’s this I hear about you getting engaged?”
“What?” She drew a blank before remembering the immigration law firm merger. “I’m not. It’s a lie. How did you—?”
“I have sources and I need the details. Can I buy you birthday drinks tomorrow tonight? We’ll go to The Ice Palace.”
“The Ice Palace? I don’t know . . .”
“I could use some time off with everything going on right now. Come out with me. Let me treat you and we’ll kill two birds with one stone and all that.”
She sighed. “Fine. But only because it’s my—” She turned to Hem who continued to openly stare at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Figuring out your Friday night plans?” he asked when she hung up the phone. They continued walking down the hallway.
“No . . . not really. It was a friend and mentor of mine.”
“The Ice Palace, huh?”
“Yes.” Mina smiled at the way he’d openly eavesdropped on her conversation. “It’s a little place where hundred-thousand-dollar suits like to go. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of it.”