Page 32 of Red Flags and Rishtas
‘Here they come,’ Ryan said under his breath as three male figures appeared in the doorway. An office boy showed them inside the room.
Aadar was the last to enter. The two men before him were much older, probably in their late forties or early fifties. All three of them wore pastel shirts and black trousers. It was too hot forblazers, or I was certain they would’ve thrown them on. In front of these formally clad men, Pooja, Ryan and I looked like we were going for a college picnic.
Pooja welcomed them warmly, shaking their hands and introducing us. I wondered if she’d met them before or if she’d stalked them on LinkedIn to figure out who was who, aside from Aadar, who she must’ve met at the launch party. Ryan moved closer to the projector to assist Pooja with the presentation, and as a result, the four remaining attendees sat facing each other on either side of the table. Aadar wound up sitting next to me.
‘I have to say, I’m kind of jealous I couldn’t make it the other night,’ said Samar, the oldest and presumably the senior most of the three. ‘Aadar couldn’t stop raving about the party.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Aadar. We were very happy to host you,’ said Pooja as she took a seat closest to the projector screen. To Samar, she said cheerfully, ‘There’s always a next time.’
That’s exactly why we all were here – to ensure there would be one.
‘What will you guys have? Tea, coffee?’ asked Pooja, ready to dial in their orders on the intercom.
We indulged in some small talk as we waited for the beverages, a designated period of unimportant chatter before we jumped into business. I was acutely aware of Aadar’s presence next to me, and at times, I could feel him looking at me from the corner of my eye.
After a while, I felt something drop into my lap. I looked down to discover a folded piece of paper. Carefully, without making a sound or appearing distracted, I opened it up.
Found ‘The One’ yet?
I threw a peripheral glare at him, and he had to place a hand in front of his mouth to hide his grin.
‘So, what is the project you wanted to tell us about?’ Hari, the other older guy, asked after the coffee had been served.
‘Right,’ said Pooja, getting up to address the room. ‘Let’s get right to it.’
The screen lit up with the opening slide of the presentation I’d made a few days ago. ‘Best Man’ flashed in a cursive font, with red and gold detailing in the background. Next to me, I sensed Aadar leaning forward for a better view.
Pooja went on to explain the concept for the next thirty-five minutes, taking a few breaks as and when the team interrupted with questions.
‘That’s quite the idea,’ Aadar said when the presentation was over.
‘Yeah, it’s definitely “out of the box”,’ Samar said, making little air quotes with his fingers.
‘Maybe too out of the box?’ Hari shifted in his seat. His eyebrows were furrowed in doubt.
Involuntarily, I frowned.Who was this old, boring man to shit on my idea?
‘Well, that’s for you to decide,’ Pooja said diplomatically. Then she added, ‘But we’ve got the go-ahead from International and we’ll be looking at finalising the sponsors this month.’
‘I think it’s an interesting take on content around weddings. People will eat it up,’ Aadar said, and I felt a strange surge of warmth for him.
‘I agree. But we have to analyse whether it’ll be good for business. Sponsoring alcohol for weddings of this scale is no cheap barter,’ Samar said, standing out as the voice of reason. ‘Give us time until the end of the week to get back to you?’
‘Absolutely, that’s not a problem,’ Pooja said, and Samar got up to shake her hand for the second time.
The three of them left shortly after, and I wondered if Aadar had forgotten about our lunch plan. I was contemplating writing him an email as I got back to my cubicle when my phone rang. It was an unknown number.
‘How’s the food at Café Hudkins?’ Aadar’s voice sounded different on the phone, more glazed somehow.
I leaned against my desk, laptop clutched to my chest with one hand, ‘How’d you get my number?’
‘I asked my brother,’ he said, and I burst out laughing.
‘Done? Now will you answer my question?’ he asked, refusing to partake in my delight.
‘It’s passable,’ I finally said.
‘Cool. Meet me there in ten,’ he said and hung up.
