“We need this investment,” Hiran roared, coming to stand next to his fuming wife. Tiya fixed a glower on Devesh for siding with rationality rather than buying into a crock of bull. “We’ve known the Chadha family for years, yet we listen to a woman who doesn’t know us or our ways. We have to be smart. This is a good opportunity to own our own hotel and hire more of our people who need jobs. We can’t let slip through our fingers.”
“What part of ‘we need to check them out’ isn’t smart?” Devesh challenged. The murmurs of agreement that followed seemed to take the wind out of Tiya for a moment.
“I told him that we would help them,” Tiya whispered, sweeping a look at those staring warily back at her.
“But not at a disservice to our own family,” Devesh replied, moving so that he was directly in front of her, unfazed by the fact that she’d turned three shades darker in her anger. “That doesn’t make sense, Tiya. We’re talking a lot of money here. Money none of us have to waste. You brought this without doing your own research. This is all their information.” Then he softened his tone. “You’ve just put some bells and whistles on it to make it look nice for people who don’t know better.”
Papa and Mumma’s expression was a direct reflection of Anaya’s—displeased.
“Consider me out of the running,” Devesh said, whirling so he was aiming to take the children with him and exit to the dining room.
“Well, we can tell who wears the pants in your family,” Bhavin taunted.
“It’s not about pants or skirts.” Devesh turned at the threshold. “Deferring to my wife’s wisdom before I buy into any foolishness makes it a team effort.” His gaze narrowed on his sister and he moved toward her once again as a thought hit him. The presentation was weak. Both Tiya and Hiran kept cycling back to the fact that the family “must” do this. “How much are they paying you?”
Tiya flinched, took a few steps back, but he didn’t miss the flash of worry in her eyes. “What … what are you talking about?” she stammered, inching away from him.
“You’ve been pushing for this from the beginning,” Devesh said, peering more closely at her, taking in the flush in her cheeks. “We’re not all that close to the Chadhas. What’s this really about?”
Tiya snatched her focus from him and glared at Reign, who simply kept any emotions she felt shielded.
Devesh was so proud of his wife. She was always reminding him to listen to what people meant and not simply what they were saying, because it wasn’t always one and the same. The men in the room who had so many doubts about Reign were listening. She was more than intelligent; she was insightful. She had never made Devesh feel inferior because he wasn’t well versed in how to communicate his thoughts. Reign was a perfect balance to him in so many ways.
School had not been kind to Devesh on many levels. An immigrant who barely spoke the English language, he was singled out by impatient teachers who already had their hands full with others who had no interest in learning. Devesh was bullied and beaten daily by boys who lived in the projects and the surrounding areas. Boys who didn’t want Devesh near their sisters because he was so different. Taunts of “pretty boy” and “light-skinned” haunted him. He never understood why any of it mattered. Light, dark, in between—everyone was important. Everyone had beauty. Everyone had purpose.
The daily experiences caused his school work to suffer because he couldn’t pay as much attention to his studies. Where he had excelled on a genius level in India, he struggled in American schools. That, too, added to a feeling that maybe he wasn’t good enough. Reign could make him feel like his thoughts, dreams, and goals mattered. Words that he couldn’t make come out quite right would sing when Reign put her touch to them. The fact that he wanted to work on behalf of charities that were close to his heart was admirable in her eyes. She understood him like no one else—not even his parents.
Sometimes he wondered what would’ve happened if he had listened to Reign years before when she tried to convince him to revamp his image. Maybe he would have been a lot further along in his career.
But then again, everything in its time. Including learning from past lessons when it came to handling family and finances.
Though their parents weren’t rich by India’s standards, they had been moderately wealthy at one point. Until a few bad investments with some distant and not-so-distant relatives had taken advantage of his parents’ kindness and their open wallets. Anaya and Devesh stepped in to stop the practice of any and everyone coming to them with their hands out. Unfortunately, the hit to their parents’ finances had already caused them to downsize their lives. Devesh was going to do everything in his power to make sure they weren’t going to be taken in by any more shady deals. Not even from his baby sister.
“I will not put any money or effort into this,” Devesh said, cutting through the loud voices that were now in a heated discussion.
“You’re just being selfish,” Tiya snarled, waving a fist at him as the conversations circling around them trickled to a halt. “All that money you have coming in. You just want to keep it all to yourself.”
“I certainly don’t plan to give it away. This ain’t no charity, lady,” he shot back. His little girl gave a single affirming nod as though she had understood the entire conversation and Devesh had made the parting shot. “It shouldn’t take my wife to tell you how foolish it was to bring this before the family without making sure we weren’t putting our hard-earned money into a sinking venture. Mumma and Papa didn’t own those gas stations and convenience stores just for you to drain them dry.” He let that thought swim around the room before he added, “Any new requests for microloans or loans of any kind need to go through my wife from this point on. She handles my finances and has access to my bank accounts. She will set the terms and put them in writing for you to sign, so that way there’s no misunderstanding.” He resituated Leena and Kamran in his arms as he looked to his wife. “Reign, tell them how things are going to be.”
She came to his side, taking his hand in hers and with a pointed look at the main ones who had their hands out on a regular basis. Kamran closed his book, held it to his chest, and put his focus on Reign, so did Leena. “Have a business plan when you come this way—a real one. Some of the family have outstanding loans they haven’t paid Mumma or Papa. So if you haven’t rolled them their money, don’t come rolling up asking for ours. No more open-ended agreements where you take and take and take, and don’t even realize people are giving. Those days are over.”
“Big man, now that you have a woman doing all your thinking,” Bhavin taunted. Jealousy was practically seeping out of the man’s pores.
“I never do his thinking,” Reign said between her teeth. “His brain worked well and served his best interest long before I showed up.” She gave a low, throaty chuckle. “You’re just pissed because I turned down your request to help with your acting career.”
Devesh stiffened upon hearing those words. Why hadn’t she told him?
Reign zeroed in on Devesh’s hardened expression and explained, “It was a non-issue. A brief conversation I’d forgotten about until now. There’s a difference between a man who has a pretty face and nice-looking body, and a man who also has charisma, a good heart, charm, intelligence and doesn’t think the world owes him something because he has one out of the six.” She cupped Devesh’s face in her hands. “And it’s why this one is doing so well. People can tell the real deal from someone who’s just smiling for the cameras.”
Bhavin flicked his hand in her direction, a clear sign that he didn’t appreciate her telling him about himself. His brother had always thought more highly of his physical attributes. Devesh found it interesting that Reign had put him in check. And it probably stuck in Bhavin’s craw that she hadn’t considered his aspirations important enough to speak with Devesh to get some input.
“Having a family means making better decisions,” Devesh said, scanning the solemn faces in the room. “This is not a good investment, as there are
too many unknown factors and I’m certainly under the belief that Tiya and Hiran’s push for this to happen is mighty suspect.”
The couple of the hour fumed and remained strangely silent.
Devesh readjusted the children so that one was situated in each muscled arm again, and moved into the dining area with Reign following closely on his heels. Once the twins were seated at the smaller dining room table especially for the children, he pulled his wife into his arms and whispered, “We make a good team.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. He was so elated at the outcome of the meeting and that they were able to see through Tiya and Hiran’s ruse to empty their pockets and enrich their own. “I love that we’re a power-packed house. I love that you have my back.”
“And your front.”
“And my front,” he agreed, playfully ruffling Kamran’s head and putting a kiss on the tip of Leena’s nose.
Reign’s lashes lowered, covering any emotion he could read in her eyes, but he knew from the way her body flowed into him that she loved the compliments and she loved him, though she never said it out loud.
Reign laid her head against his chest and his heart rate increased. Soon, she would want him as much as he wanted her.
Everything in its time.
“Mumma, this tastes so good,” Tiya said around a mouthful of the slightly spicy spinach, mushroom, and corn dish.
“I wish I could take credit for it,” Mumma responded lifting her fork in a salute. “But I did not make dinner tonight. Reign did.”
All conversations came to an abrupt end. Some of the family members looked down at their plates; others shared a questioning, almost horrific glance.
No one was willing to say anything. Devesh scooped up a forkful of chicken makhani over basmati rice and moaned like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted in his lifetime. Actually, it was. This was his mother’s recipe, but a few unfamiliar seasonings told him that Reign put her own touch in the meal as well.
“To eat or not to eat,” Devesh said in an affected English accent, cutting through the silence that permeated the room. “That is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and rumblings of an outrageously empty stomach.”
Dinner quickly resumed. Congratulatory gestures and words were shot Reign’s way. She accepted demurely while trying to keep from laughing at Devesh displaying the new techniques from his acting class. The class first put a heavy emphasis on learning to perform Shakespeare. The concept was that British actors were more concerned about being a good actor and not so much about super stardom. The next rotation would be comedy and improvisation. Devesh was loving this new process almost as much as he was enjoying Reign’s home-cooked meal.
Only Tiya showed her entire ass by spitting a mouthful of food into a napkin and pushing her plate toward the center of the table. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
Devesh snatched up his sister’s plate, went into the kitchen and slid the contents into a Tupperware container. He sauntered into the dining room and presented it to Hiran, who quickly accepted it with glee.
Devesh smiled at Hiran and said, “This will come in handy when you get home since your wife’s cooking leaves a lot to be desired. Except for several trips to the bathroom.”
Tiya’s eyes glazed over with unconcealed hatred as everyone shared a laugh.
Reign’s lips lifted at the corners, and she mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
Chapter 24
Devesh looked over Jay’s shoulder, taking in the onscreen data he had gathered on demographics and music preferences in certain cities. Jay, who was in the process of making a case for Elise, his high school sweetheart, to make that move to California with him, had proposed an idea so radical that Devesh felt no one would understand it—most of all Reign. She was more into a streamlined and solid approach to the way Devesh marketed and would perform on his upcoming tour.
The after-release marketing plans that Jay put together, and initial ideas for a small tour to promote his album had slated places like Chicago, New York, Atlanta, Detroit, Houston, and New Orleans. Devesh wanted to keep the rest of them closer to home so he wouldn’t be away from Reign and the twins so much. Tonight was all about balancing Devesh’s new life.
Jay had set up his office in the first-floor condo and was taking on a few clients that came as a result of his work for Devesh. He found through web trafficking and analytics that the people who made up a great part of Devesh’s new fan base were middle-aged Blacks and, surprisingly, young and middle-aged East Indians. Devesh wasn’t aware that so many people from his culture had a thing for R&B music.
He slid out the documents that listed the perfect places to perform. They also contained a surprise element that would connect Devesh with more seasoned artists to help him get familiar with them and their sound. Jay had hijacked Reign’s playlist from her phone and computer during the last updates and dropped the songs he felt worth listening to onto Devesh’s cell.
A bright green folder stashed on the other side of Jay’s keyboard caught Devesh’s attention. “What’s this?” Devesh asked.
“I’m readjusting my life index,” Jay answered, sliding out the first page so Devesh could take a gander. “So I’ll know when my long-range plan will work.”
“Life index?”
Jay nodded, pointing to the upper right column of figures. “Mom taught me early on about budgeting, made me keep one when I was in high school. She also taught me that everyone has a specific amount of money they’ll need to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. Not rich. Not wealthy. Simply able to keep the lifestyle they have now.”
“So how does that work?” Devesh asked, trying to make sense of the figures in front of him.
“My life index is pretty low,” he answered, swiveling the office chair until he faced Devesh head on. “I have a car, some savings and very little in student loan debt since I went to school on grants and scholarships. The rest Mama shelled out of her pocket. I have a decent wardrobe. I’m not into material things, but I do like to travel. So as a single man, I’d need to have 6.7 million in the bank at the age I am right now in order to maintain my current lifestyle all the way until I’m sixty-five or seventy without working a single day of a 9-to-5.” He extracted the sheet from Devesh’s hand, gesturing to the bottom figure. “When I get married and have children, that number will go up, but I at least know what I need to be working on.”
Devesh thought that over. He had only one-fourth of that number in the bank right now. If he didn’t have the music thing going and the movie offers coming in, he would have to work a 9-to-5 until he was ninety—and that wasn’t taking into consideration the fact that he had a family. Evidently, he needed to up his game when it came to the music part of his career. He’d make a lot more money if he added more cities to the tour, but Jay was right—balance was also important. Time with family was important. And it’s one of the reasons he had Anaya put in an offer on a Shoreview home a few acres away from the Maharaj place. She had told him the minute the listing hit her desk. The condo was nice, but the children having a place to run out of the back door and straight into a yard with lots of grass and room to play, would be much better. Close to his family, but not too close. That would definitely work.
“Do you happen to know your mother’s life index?”
“About 3.7 million,” he answered, frowning as he seemed to give it more thought. “Maybe a little more now because that’s the number she told me a few years ago and the munchkins have absorbed a lot of her cash flow. She had me start putting money in an account to fund an irrevocable trust and another insurance trust that was set up to protect my assets and always keep me with some money in my pockets. Money neither marriage nor divorce could take from me.
“Mom is smart. She’s not about stocks and bonds. It’s about real dollars and cents with her. Knowing what I need puts me in a different frame of mind.”
&nbs
p; “No doubt,” Devesh said, pondering his own next steps.
“I screwed up a little bit in college, though. She didn’t bail me out either,” Jay admitted. “She said I needed to bump my head and hit that brick wall. Told me that was the best point to make mistakes because I’d have time to recover. I learned the hard way that if I had listened to her …”
“Yes, I know the feeling,” Devesh said sourly, remembering all the times he’d brushed off Reign’s suggestions as though she didn’t understand him or the business. She understood both more than he’d given her credit for.
Devesh would not make that mistake ever again.
Chapter 25
Reign stood off to the side of the United Center stage and waited, along with the stadium full of Chicago fans, for Devesh to begin. She felt that Jay and Devesh had been ambitious booking such a huge venue for the first concert Devesh would hold. Jay had asked both of them to trust him, that he knew that this plan of one concert, instead of three over a weekend, would increase attendance—and would save them a ton of money in the fact that they’d pay for one night of sound, lighting, venue use rather than three and have too much performing take a toll on Devesh too early in the game. If people knew that there was only one night to see him perform in a particular city, the demand would go up and so would attendance.
Not to mention, Jay and Percy already had some things in the works for separate music and recording deals with the background singers as a group, and the musicians as a performing jazz ensemble all their own. Multiple streams of income. That was Jay’s new mantra. Then he knocked it out of the ball park by reconnecting Devesh with the companies who had used him for advertising years ago. They were the first on board to sponsor Devesh’s tour, so practically none of the expenses came out of Devesh’s pocket.
Devesh glanced over his shoulder at her, then smiled. And she instantly knew trouble was brewing. She studied Jay for a moment, who shrugged and put his focus back on Devesh.
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