by Nisha Sharma
CINDY-PARALEGAL: Mina, what’s going on????
MINA: I promise I’ll explain everything to you later.
CINDY-PARALEGAL: Okay
“What did she say?” Hem asked.
She was about to answer when Mina’s phone buzzed again.
BECCA-ASSISTANT: your uncle just emailed me and told me I had to put your stuff in boxes bc you’ll be picking them up today. WTF??!!!???
MINA: If you could also back up the folder labeled Personal on the desktop and put the data on a drive, I’d appreciate it. No other requirements.
BECCA-ASSISTANT: *cry face emoji* You got it. Dammit, Mina, I want to know what’s happening!
MINA: I’ll tell you soon.
Mina put her phone away and quickly turned to Hem, who wrapped her in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said.
She kissed Hem with an edge of desperation and then spent her last twenty minutes in the penthouse reassuring him that she’d be fine on her own. It was going to happen, and she was content with that, even if saying goodbye to the firm was like letting go of a goal she’d always imagined she’d achieve one day.
Mina took an Uber to the office as she prepared for the ax to fall. She stepped out of the car and was in front of the firm’s building when she received an email from Sanjeev to go straight to the largest conference room on the floor.
With a deep breath and the clear knowledge that she had the memory of her mother, her father, and her lover with her, she made her last trip into Kohli and Associates.
When she entered through the glass double doors, an audible hush spread across the floor. Heads popped up behind cubicle walls and her coworkers and peers stared openly at her.
Everyone knew.
That killed some of her misery. There was no way she would look like a sad, kicked puppy that was being escorted out of a place that had once been built on dreams and hopes for her future. Mina’s chin went up and she strode toward the conference room, waving at gawking faces as she passed.
Sanjeev, Kumar, and Human Resources staff sat at the table when she entered. Sangeeta, Sanjeev’s executive assistant, sat at the end of the table, avoiding eye contact.
Mina feigned surprise in the doorway. “I have a lot to do today. What’s all this?”
Kumar motioned for her to sit. “This will only take a moment,” he said.
She dropped her tote bag on the table and collapsed in one of the chairs, as if she owned the place. “Am I getting my partnership position?”
The Kohli brothers laughed as if she’d told the funniest joke they’d ever heard. When they got their humor under control, Cheryl from HR slid a piece of paper in front of her. “You are being terminated from Kohli and Associates effective immediately.”
“What?” Mina said. Her tone must have been convincing, because Sanjeev and Kumar turned to each other and smiled.
For the first time, she didn’t feel like she was fighting a losing battle. Despite her current predicament, her uncles thought they’d one-upped her, but they didn’t realize her father would take her side. She felt another wave of gratitude for her surviving parent.
“Due to a series of missteps on your part as an employee, including your unfortunate relationship with a client’s son and your failure to make sound decisions and facilitate a profitable merger, I’m sorry to say we are letting you go,” Cheryl continued.
“Seriously? That’s the excuse you’re going to use after I called you out last week?” Mina saw Sanjeev redden and felt a moment of satisfaction.
“We’re trying to do this in a civil fashion, Mina.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” she said. “Also what proof do you have that I’m in a relationship with a client’s son?”
“You don’t think I keep an eye on you, little girl?”
“You spied on me?” She knew he had, but the idea still made her skin crawl. Did he know about the countless nights she spent with Hem?
He smirked at her now, as if he was reading her thoughts.
Screw him. Even if he had known about her weekends or after-work dates, Sanjeev didn’t understand the most important part of her relationship, and that was how she felt about Hem.
“You’re disgusting, old man.”
“It was worth it. Now it’s time to turn in your key card.”
She practically threw her badge at him, for the effect of it all. “You’re doing this because you’re into something illegal with Bharat and I found out.”
Cheryl gasped and Sanjeev slammed a fist against the desk. “Don’t even think about spreading those lies!”
“They aren’t lies, and you know it.”
“Your accusations are empty and meaningless. No one will believe you over me. We all know you’ve wanted this firm. They’ll view your words as a desperate attempt to get it. I wonder what your mother would think of you now? Getting fired from the very business that she started.”
There was a stretch of silence, and Sanjeev stared at her, as if expecting her to argue.
She sat relaxed in her chair, with one raised brow. “Say what you want to, Sanjeev.”
Cheryl cleared her throat and pushed a piece of paper in front of her. “This is a nondisclosure form. We will not share your termination with other law firms that you choose to work for if you agree not to disclose office information. This is outside of your client files, of course, as that’s covered by ethics laws.”
Mina glanced at the NDA and laughed. She picked it up and tore it in half. The stormy expressions on her uncles’ faces were priceless. “Tell all of New York that you fired me, and I’ll make sure I tell all of New York how you tried to whore me out to acquire an immigration firm. Let’s not forget how you stole trade secrets from Bharat, Inc.”
“Your career is over,” Sanjeev said quietly. “Don’t you care?”
Mina stood and looped her shoulder strap over her shoulder. “I don’t give a shit,” she said in Punjabi. It was the truth, too. She believed her father’s words that he’d spoken to her with a thread of steel in his voice. Mina was her mother’s legacy. She no longer needed the firm to honor that.
“Cheryl? It’s been a pleasure. I’ll expect my last check in the mail within two weeks, otherwise I’ll start spreading the word that HR here is just as bad as the managing partners.”
She turned to go and heard Sangeeta’s soft voice from behind her. “I’ll walk her out.”
The older Indian woman hustled to keep up with Mina’s long strides. When they reached the reception desk at the front of the office, Cindy and Becca stood holding file boxes in their hands.
For the first time in days, Mina didn’t feel the need to cry. She was content with what had just happened, relieved that it was quick and painless. She felt freed, even. The weightlessness was shocking, and she almost giggled as she took the boxes out of both Cindy’s and Becca’s hands and stacked them on the floor so she could give them proper hugs.
She turned to Sangeeta who wore an anxious expression on her face.
“Don’t let him treat you like shit,” Mina said. “You’re too good for him.”
Sangeeta held out a hand to shake, which Mina found odd, but she accepted the gesture. When she felt the slim cool metal against her palm, her eyes widened.
Oh my god.
Mina palmed the flash drive and then grabbed the boxes. Her former staff called out to text them and that she’d be missed as she slipped into the elevator with a security detail. She absently smiled at them while she tried to think what possibly could be on the drive.
She barely heard the security guard who asked her if she had transportation available to take her home.
“What? No.”
“You’ll have to arrange it outside. You’re not allowed in the building at this time.”
“Yeah, I got that,” she said.
He followed her through the turnstile and out to the curb. A swarm of employees who were coming in to start their day watched her. She would’ve been horrified nor
mally to endure such a humiliating experience, but her mind was elsewhere. She needed a computer to find out what Sangeeta had given her.
Her heart swelled with love when she saw Hem leaning against a town car. His frame was expertly covered in a slate gray suit. The one she’d picked out for him that morning.
The security guard froze, gaping until the driver got out of the front seat and rounded the car to take Mina’s boxes from her. Then both guard and driver loaded the boxes into the trunk while Hem helped Mina into the back seat.
She kept the drive fisted in her palm and waited for Hem to join her.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you okay?”
“Hem? I’m better than okay.” She turned to him and held up the flash drive that Sangeeta had given her. “I think I got the information I need to put Sanjeev away for good.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hem was going to hell. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Mina looked so delicious, even though his mother was in the same room. It just felt wrong but he couldn’t help it. Mina inspired him in ways that no one else had. He leaned against the kitchen island and watched her from across his parents’ great room as she worked cross-legged on the couch with a Macbook in her lap. Her hair was twisted haphazardly on top of her head, secured with a pen, and she still wore the dramatic makeup she’d painstakingly put on that morning, but a pair of reading glasses were now perched on her nose.
The power suit she’d worn to work was brilliant and energetic, but he loved her in leggings and baggy sweaters, too.
“I know Ajay called for us to have a meeting at the estate instead of at Bharat offices, but I should’ve taken her home so she’d be more comfortable, Mom.”
“Nonsense,” his mother whispered. She stood next to him, leaning against his side. “How can I coddle her if she isn’t here? Do you think she would like the chai now? I can have the cook bring her a cup.”
“I think she needs a little more time. She’s busy right now.”
When his mother sighed in contentment, Hem wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “Main tuhanu pyaar karda haan, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too, my serious puttar,” she said affectionately. She had to stand on her toes to grab his face in her hands and squeeze his cheeks.
“You happy?” he said when he pulled away.
“Very. She’s good for you. You’re happy, too. More than I’ve seen you in years, Hem.”
He was going to talk to his mother about the nature of his relationship on Saturday, but after the coffee meeting with Mina’s father, he’d decided to go back to the penthouse with Mina so he could be there in case she needed him while she grieved. His love was a vibrant, intelligent woman, but she needed her space sometimes. He looked down at the other woman he loved in his life.
“Mom. I asked Mina to move in with me. She hasn’t said yes, but I’m hoping that within a few months, she’ll change her mind.”
His mother’s breath caught, and then she began to sniffle. “You’re getting married?”
“No, not yet. The topic hasn’t even come up. I know that Mina isn’t Lisa, but I still want to give her plenty of time to get used to the idea.”
He wasn’t prepared, he was never prepared, for when his mother smacked him upside the head and swore at him in Punjabi. “She’s a proper Punjabi woman. She’s different. Treat her that way.”
Hem looked over to see Mina’s curious expression. “So by treat her differently, you mean propose right away? Isn’t that the same thing I did with Lisa?”
“Don’t try to be smart with me, Hem. I will hit you with my rolling pin. Then you’ll truly know what pain feels like.”
“Okay, can we talk about this after Dad gets better? It’s not that big of a deal.”
“It’s a big deal to my puttar who never loved a woman quite like this before,” his mother said, squishing Hem’s face between her palms again. “My handsome boy. Go tell your father. A good Punjabi wedding is just the cure he needs.”
“We’re not—”
“Go!”
With that, he shot Mina one last look, who was still watching him with curiosity, and left the great room. His heart thudded at the idea of marrying Mina. He wanted to spend his life with her. That wasn’t even a question. He loved her more than he could ever imagine in such a short amount of time.
But marriage? Mina was already skittish with how fast they were moving. He understood her brain a little bit better now. She liked compartmentalizing, and until Bharat’s results meeting was over and a report to the major shareholders was complete, she’d be on edge.
When Mina and he got married—
Hem stumbled on the marble stairs.
When. He’d thought about when, not if. He’d never had that certainty before. Hem’s future didn’t seem complete without Mina in it, which meant that . . . damn it, yes, he was going to keep her in his life.
He grinned as he finished ascending the staircase. Maybe his mother had the right idea after all. Hem entered his parents’ wing, and at the end of the hall, he turned into the master bedroom. A nurse dressed in simple sky-blue scrubs was rearranging the sitting area while Hem’s father sat in a glider by the window. The room smelled like antiseptic and incense.
He called out to his father before he crossed the room. The older man looked a little gray, his hair was limp, and he wore a white kurta pajama with a beige shawl draped over his shoulders.
Hem waited until his father slowly acknowledged his presence, his sharp eyes shining with intelligence and fatigue. “Puttar,” he said slowly.
“Should you be sitting up?”
His father said something pithy in Punjabi before switching to English. “Sit up, lie down, your mother is always on my case. I don’t need you to harass me, either. It’s bad enough that my life is over.”
“What? Dad, don’t say that.”
“It’s true. No more whiskey, no more cigars, no more ghee, nothing. What do I have to live for? My company is good as gone, too.”
Hem sighed and sat on the floor in front of the chair. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. “Well, if you’re this feisty, then you must be feeling better.”
They sat in silence, listening to the easy movement of the nurse in the background for a while.
“I’m sorry, puttar,” his father finally said. “I’ve made one mistake after another. I should’ve trusted your instincts that it was too premature to go public. I should’ve consulted with you and your brothers about Gopal owning company stock.”
It was the first time Hem’s father had talked about what he’d done since their fight a few days ago. The regret was etched in the age lines marring his face.
“Papa, we don’t have to talk about this.”
Deepak Singh closed his eyes and rested it against the back of the hair. His chest lifted and dropped. “When I came to America, I never thought we’d have all this, Hem. The money wasn’t important to me. The life I built for my children. The respect I earned for my work. That’s what I wanted.”
“I think Mom would disagree about the money, Dad. She demanded you renovate that kitchen and spent over four hundred thousand dollars.”
“I’m glad I could give that to her, but she’d be okay using that galley kitchen in the Flushing apartment, too.”
“What are you getting at, Papa?”
“I’m saying that we have money, vineyards, buildings, patents because I pursued respect. Now that we’ve gone public, I’ve lost the respect of my peers, and I’m losing my money, too.”
“Don’t believe that for a second. You haven’t lost anyone’s respect.”
His father’s labored breathing slowed. “WTA hasn’t just taken away my company, they’ve taken away my pride. What’s even worse than that, they’ve taken away my oldest son.”
Hem felt his heart crack and he reached out to rest a hand on his father’s bony knee. “I was never taken from you. If anything, WTA brought us back t
ogether.”
“But you left.”
Hem sighed and slipped into Punjabi. “I left because it was the best thing to do at the time for me and for the company. I wanted something different. Don’t you see? If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve never been strong enough to start my own law firm. You’re the one who taught me that I could do anything. I know that we fought, and I know that a lot of things were said, but believe me when I tell you, there is nothing that will ever come between us.”
He held out his hand, and his father looked at it for a moment before resting his quivering fingers against Hem’s.
“Tell me you understand, Papa.”
“Okay,” Deepak said. “Maybe it was the right decision. I think—I think your brother loves your role more than you ever did.”
“Exactly. I never left you. I just made the best move so that the rightful leader could take over. Ajay wanted the company to go public. Now, after all this time, I know it was the right move. His instincts are better than mine.”
“He’s brash, puttar. He doesn’t have your finesse.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong. He does his job differently, but you and I both know he does it better. You have to trust him to make the right decisions for the company.”
They sat in silence for a long time. Deepak’s chair rocked back and forth and muffled noise from the nurse’s quarters echoed softly in the background. Hem let out a breath when he finally felt his father squeeze his fingers.
“I missed you.”
Hem’s throat constricted at the shaky sound of the old man’s voice. He hadn’t known how important it was to hear those words until his father said them. “I missed you, too, Papa. We’ll get through this. I’m not with the company anymore, but I’m here. And so is Mina.”
“I owe her an apology.”
“Yes, but right now, get better. Ajay, Zail, and I will protect Bharat.”
Those piercing dark brown eyes, the same ones Hem saw whenever he looked in the mirror, stared back at him. “It’s such a burden I leave you with.”