Loe raamatut: «Twelve Hours of Temptation»

ONE

‘Brian’s selling the agency.’

The words didn’t sink in at first because Melissa was busy squinting at her keyboard. Damn the O key. It was jamming up again. The last line she’d typed read as if it had a particularly nasty swear word in it—the difference a single missing o could make was amazing.

‘I need a new keyboard,’ she said. ‘Unless... What did you say?’

Pleased at the impact she’d created, Neera plopped her lush backside onto Melissa’s desk and beamed at her pretty young friend. ‘It’s true. He’s going to announce it today.’

Melissa stared at her in dismay. Brian Mendonca had set up the tiny advertising agency thirty years ago, and it was more like an extended family than a workplace. Melissa herself had been working there for a little over two years, and she loved the place.

‘Who’s buying it?’

‘Maximus Advertising. They’re expanding...and Brian wants to retire and go back to Goa, apparently.’ Neera looked over her shoulder and then leaned down. ‘Don’t look now, but the guy who’s taking over is with Brian right now. He’s pretty hot, actually, can’t be very old...’

As Melissa instinctively turned, Neera tugged her back, and all she caught a glimpse of was a tall man walking out of the main entrance of the office with Brian.

* * *

‘His name’s Samir Razdan,’ Neera reported two days later.

Melissa abandoned the ad she was working on to search the internet for the name.

‘Impressive,’ she said. ‘Studied in the US. He’s been working for only ten years and he’s already Maximus’s corporate strategy head. Looks pretty arrogant, though—like he thinks he’s a lot smarter than anyone else.’

The picture on the Maximus website showed a strong-featured man in his early thirties—even the grim expression in his eyes didn’t detract from his good looks.

‘Shh...’ Neera muttered, and Melissa turned to see Brian bearing down on them with the subject of the photograph in tow.

The man was magnificent in real life. There was no other word for it, Melissa thought as she stared at him. Well over six feet in height, he towered over Brian—and the contrast between Brian’s rather pudgy middle-aged form and Samir Razdan’s perfectly proportioned physique was striking.

She hadn’t had enough time to switch screens, and her browser still had the Maximus website open. Melissa wondered if he’d overheard her remark.

‘Meet some of the most talented people on the team,’ Brian said, beaming at both of them. ‘Neera is our creative head, and Melissa’s our star copywriter.’

‘It’s so nice to meet you,’ Neera gushed, holding out her hand.

Samir took it after a second’s hesitation and said, ‘It’s a pleasure.’

His tone was formal, almost dismissive, and Melissa immediately felt her hackles rise. Neera could come across as a bit silly at times, but she was brilliant at her work and Samir had absolutely no business looking down at her.

‘And this is Melissa,’ Brian said fondly, and his expression suggested an indulgent grandfather introducing a favourite but slightly unpredictable grandchild.

‘Hi,’ Melissa said coolly, giving Samir a slow once-over. She didn’t stand up—even in her two-inch heels she would probably only reach his chin. And Brian hadn’t said that Samir was taking over the company—there was no need for her to spring to attention.

As her eyes drifted over his body she couldn’t help noticing how broad his shoulders were, and how perfectly his formal blue shirt and grey trousers fitted his athletic frame.... For a few seconds she actually felt her breathing get a bit out of control. Then she gave herself a mental slap. Getting distracted was not supposed to happen. The ‘once-over technique’ was something her sister-in-law had taught her. Used to ogling women themselves, most men were made profoundly uncomfortable by an attractive woman looking them over as if she found something lacking.

Okay, so that was most men. When her eyes met Samir’s again he didn’t look the least bit fazed—if anything, there was the merest hint of a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Your star copywriter, you say?’ he said to Brian.

‘Yes, one of her ads has been nominated for an award this year,’ Brian said. Clearly eager to undo the damage his protégée was hell-bent on doing, he went on, ‘I’m expecting it to win silver at the very least—if not gold.’

‘Impressive,’ Samir said, and Melissa had no way of knowing if he was being sarcastic or not. ‘Well, I’ll see you ladies around.’

His eyes flickered for a second towards Melissa’s computer screen. The Maximus website was still open, with Samir Razdan’s picture occupying pride of place at the top right-hand corner. The man himself didn’t react, however, giving the girls a polite nod and continuing towards the exit.

‘He seems pretty nice,’ Neera said as the doors closed behind him.

Melissa stared at her in disbelief. ‘You can’t be serious!’ she said, turning to the elderly Hindi copywriter who sat next to her. ‘You saw him, Dubeyji, what did you think?’

‘He’s a good businessman,’ Dubeyji said a little sadly. ‘Doesn’t let people know what he’s thinking. But I’m sure he’ll get rid of the old fogeys like me. I know how Maximus runs—it’s like a factory. We’ll just be a little insignificant part of their operations. They wouldn’t even have looked at us if it wasn’t for the awards we’ve got recently.’

‘He’s right,’ Melissa burst out, getting to her feet in agitation. ‘It’s not about this Razdan guy. Maximus will probably sack half of us, and the rest will have to go work in one of those hideous blue glass buildings and wear access cards and queue up for lunch at the cafeteria...’

‘And hopefully we’ll get paid every month,’ said Devdeep, the agency’s client servicing head, as he strolled up. ‘Melissa, we all love Brian, but creative freedom is a bit of a luxury when we’re losing clients every day.’

‘He’s great at what he does,’ Melissa said hotly. ‘None of us have one tenth of his talent and—’

‘I agree,’ Devdeep said. ‘The point is the world’s moved a little beyond print advertising. I know TV might be a bit much for an agency this size to handle, though we could have done it if we’d expanded at the right time. But there’s digital advertising and social media—let’s admit it: we’ve lost some of our best clients because Brian doesn’t hold with “all that new technology rubbish”.’

‘He’s right,’ Neera said. ‘Melly, if Brian continues to run this place we’ll all be out of jobs within a year. Awards or no awards. He’s a bit of a...well, not a dinosaur, exactly, but definitely ancient.’

‘A mastodon, maybe,’ Devdeep said, giving Melissa an irritatingly superior smile. ‘Or a woolly mammoth.’

‘Remind me not to ask you guys to bat for me ever,’ Melissa muttered, and turned back to her computer to pound savagely at the keys.

She was unswervingly loyal to Brian, and she didn’t understand how everyone else wasn’t the same. Brian had done so much for each of them—Melissa knew that he’d given Devdeep a job when he’d been sacked from another agency, and that he’d advanced Neera a pot of money to pay for her mum’s bypass surgery a year ago. Their criticising him was a bit like a bunch of Kolkata street kids saying that the Sisters of Charity could do with a make-over and a new uniform.

* * *

‘I thought you hadn’t yet told your staff about the buy-out?’ said Samir.

‘I haven’t,’ Brian replied. ‘But it’s a small office—the finance guys guessed something was happening and the word must have spread.’

‘Evidently,’ Samir agreed, his voice dry. ‘I’d suggest you talk to them. Those women were looking a bit jittery.’

Or at least one woman had been—the other had been anything but. For a few seconds his mind dwelled on the coolly challenging way in which she’d spoken to him. She’d known who he was, and it hadn’t fazed her in the least.

As it turned out Brian didn’t have to speak to the team as Devdeep had called everyone into a room and was in the process of giving them a pep talk. Brian didn’t object—he was already looking forward to a life of retirement, and anyway, Devdeep would be managing the bulk of the agency work until the sale went through.

Samir Razdan was a corporate restructuring expert, not an adman—there was even a chance Devdeep would get to head the agency once Samir got it fully integrated into the Maximus empire.

‘It’s all very well for you,’ Melissa told Brian crossly as he dropped her at her hostel in Colaba that evening. ‘You and Aunty Liz will have the time of your lives, going off on cruises and world tours, while all of us slog away for Robot Samir.’

Brian gave her a quizzical look. ‘You met him for all of five minutes,’ he pointed out. ‘Surely that’s not long enough to start calling him names?’

‘I looked him up before that,’ she said. ‘He’s a businessman through and through. I don’t think he has a creative bone in his body. He won’t do the agency any good, Brian, he’ll only try and squeeze out the last possible rupee of revenue he can. And you can tell a lot in five minutes—he’s pretty cold-blooded, and he obviously thinks he’s God’s gift to womankind.’

‘Ah...’ Brian said. ‘So that’s it. Paid more attention to Neera, did he?’

Brian was in his mid-fifties, and he still admired the fair-skinned, luscious beauties of his youth—Neera was a pretty fine example of the type.

‘No,’ Melissa said, exasperated. Apart from trivialising her concerns about the takeover, it wasn’t even true. Samir had hardly noticed Neera, and while he might not have been bowled over by Melissa she’d at least caught his attention.

Unbidden, her thoughts drifted back to the second their eyes had met...then she shook herself angrily. Brian’s habit of reducing everything to a simple man-woman equation was as annoying as it was infectious.

‘Look, I’m sorry I took off at you,’ she said. ‘It’s just that you and Aunty Liz have been like family to me, and I don’t know... I’m just a bit...’

The car had stopped outside the working women’s hostel where Melissa lived, and Brian reached out to give her a clumsy pat on the shoulder.

‘Sorry,’ Melissa said again, taking in his anxious expression. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to start howling. Just...stay in touch, OK? Even when you’re off living the high life,’ she added as she climbed out of the car, smiling at him before she closed the door.

‘Yes, of course.’

Overall, Brian looked rather relieved to be rid of her, and she couldn’t blame him. Emotional scenes weren’t really his thing.

‘I’ll ask Liz to call you. Fix dinner with us this Sunday, maybe, and we can talk things over.’

He was about to drive off when something struck him and he rolled the window down. ‘Don’t judge Samir too hastily, OK? He’s a great guy—just a little reserved. Wait till you get to know him better.’

Melissa waited while he drove off and then walked into the hostel, uncharacteristic tears pricking at her eyelids. She was distantly related to Brian’s wife, and two years ago, when her family had turned against her, Liz and Brian had brought her to Mumbai, given her a job and helped her settle down. Brian insisted that she’d more than repaid the debt with the amount of hard work she’d put in since joining the agency, but she felt more grateful and connected to the couple than she had to anyone else in her life. Brian’s announcement had come as a shock—it felt as if her last source of emotional support was now gone.

* * *

Three weeks later, when Samir moved into the Mendonca Advertising corner office, he found himself automatically looking for the dusky elfin woman he’d met the first day he’d visited the office. Brian had spoken to him about her later, and he was intrigued by the few things that Brian had let drop. He didn’t see her for the first week, though, and it was only at the beginning of the next week that he thought to ask someone where she was.

‘Is everyone in the office, Devdeep?’ he asked.

Devdeep wrinkled his forehead. ‘Yes, I think so,’ he said. ‘Was there someone you’d like to meet in particular? Because I’ve already lined up discussions with the team heads, but I can rejig them if needed.’

Distracted for a second by a vivid mental image of jigging team heads, Samir shook his head. ‘No. There were a couple of women Brian introduced me to the first day I was here. I can’t see either of them around.’

‘Ah, Neera and Melissa,’ Devdeep said. ‘Neera’s not well, but Melissa should be around—actually, she should be here already. I’ll speak to her about it. She’s normally never late.’

Samir heroically resisted the impulse to tell Devdeep not to get his panties in a twist and said instead, ‘Don’t worry about it. I was just wondering if she was on leave today.’

Ten minutes later he was left in no doubt as a pink-cheeked Melissa bounced into his office.

‘Devdeep said you were looking for me,’ she said. She’d already had a bit of a spat with Devdeep, and she was all set to do battle. ‘I got little delayed because there wasn’t a single cab on the roads today. There’s some kind of a strike. I’d have called and told someone if I’d known you needed to talk to me.’ She came to an abrupt halt, realising that it sounded as if she was making excuses. Damn, she’d wanted to come across as being completely cool and in charge of the situation.

Samir waited patiently till she was done. ‘I asked where you were because I was looking around for familiar faces,’ he said. ‘I didn’t see you all of last week.’

She was even prettier than he’d remembered—large, expressive chocolate-brown eyes in a piquant little face framed by masses of spun-silk hair. Right now, she looked defensive, and a lot less fiery than when he’d first met her, and he smiled at her reassuringly. The last thing he wanted was to terrorise the junior members of what he suspected was already a very apprehensive team.

Unfortunately Samir’s reassuring smile had the effect of making Melissa’s knees go just a little wobbly, and she took a few seconds to regroup before she said, ‘I was in a creative writing workshop last week. Brian suggested it, actually—he felt that it’d help with my work.’

‘That’s OK,’ Samir said, but Melissa still hesitated.

‘I paid for it myself,’ she volunteered.

At that, Samir looked up. ‘I think it would have made more sense for the agency to pay if Brian asked you to take the workshop,’ he said crisply. ‘I’ll speak to someone about it. And at some point I’d like you to take me through what you do—I’ll drop you a line and schedule a time. Is there something else you’d like to talk about now?’

Melissa’s slightly belligerent expression had vanished, but she still looked as if she wanted to get something off her chest.

‘Um, he mightn’t have told you, but it’s Devdeep’s birthday today,’ she said. ‘Brian’s secretary normally orders a cake, but this time she wasn’t sure what to do, so...’

‘She can order a cake,’ Samir said. ‘You know what? It’d help if you could spread the word—for now everything continues as usual. I’ll be making changes, but they’ll take time, and they’ll definitely not be about things like birthday cakes and what time people land up in office.’

Melissa’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything, whisking herself out of his office instead. In spite of his brusqueness there was a magnetic pull about Samir that was difficult to ignore. OK, magnetic pull was a really cheesy way of putting it, but that was how it felt. He was dressed casually, probably with the intention of blending in with the agency staff—but even in a linen shirt and faded jeans he exuded an aura of sheer masculine power that was difficult to ignore.

‘He said you should order the cake, Kash,’ she told Samir’s secretary on her way back to her desk. ‘Tell me when it’s here and we’ll set up the pantry for a party.’

Devdeep was dreadfully embarrassed by the fuss.

‘He’ll think we’re completely flaky,’ he protested, when Melissa and Kash told him.

‘Nonsense, even the president celebrates her birthday,’ Melissa said briskly. ‘Samir won’t think you’re flaky at all, and if he does we’ll put cockroaches in his room and spit in his water jug.’

‘Thanks for warning me,’ a dry voice said behind her, and Melissa jumped.

There he was, standing right behind her—all six foot two inches of scorching hot masculinity—and for the first time in her life Melissa found herself completely tongue-tied.

Devdeep turned a bright purple and said, ‘She was just joking, sir, of course we’d do nothing of the sort.’

‘Joking, was she?’ Samir gave her a long look that didn’t betray an iota of what he was thinking. ‘Many happy returns of the day, Devdeep. And you can call me Samir. I haven’t been knighted yet—and “sir” is a bit over the top, don’t you think?’

Devdeep was still in the midst of a rather incoherent reply when Samir interrupted.

‘Can I speak to you for a bit, Melissa?’

‘If you were trying to put him at ease it didn’t work,’ Melissa muttered once they were out of earshot. ‘Soon he’ll be thanking you for allowing him to breathe the same air as you.’

At that Samir finally laughed. ‘I can see I’ve been set up as a bit of an ogre, haven’t I?’

Melissa looked him squarely in the eyes. ‘No, you haven’t,’ she said. ‘Brian decided to sell you the agency, and we trust his judgement. But you sitting in your room and poring over financial statements day after day isn’t making people feel very confident.’

‘Right,’ Samir said. ‘I guess I should have explained that I’m only handling the take-over—I’ll have someone else actually managing the agency once I’ve got it fully integrated into Maximus. Look, Brian told me I could trust you to call things as they are. And that you’d be discreet even though you’re one of the younger members of the team.’

Melissa nodded in what she hoped was a suitably responsible and discreet manner. So far in every interaction with Samir she’d come across as being a lot more immature and irresponsible than she actually was, and she was keen to correct the impression before he wrote her off as a complete airhead. Staying calm and focussed was difficult, though, with the completely unexpected effect that he was having on her.

‘So it’d help if you told me exactly what people are worried about,’ he said, leading the way into his room. ‘I plan to address the team tomorrow, but I want to get my bearings first.’

‘The older guys think you’ll sack them,’ she said bluntly. ‘Especially the copywriters who work on regional languages. And people like me are worried that we’ll no longer be doing the kind of work Brian trained us for—we’ll just be churning out run-of-the-mill advertising. And a few, like Devdeep, just want to know how they can impress you and get promoted as soon as possible.’

Samir raised an eyebrow, and she went on.

‘I’m not criticising him. He’s probably the most sensible of the lot, and he has a wife and two kids to think of. It’s just that for the rest of us there was a reason we joined Mendonca’s, and the reason’s now gone.’

‘The work you’re talking about,’ Samir said. ‘Could I see some of the things the agency’s done in the past?’

‘It’s all around you!’ Melissa exclaimed, but then the bare walls of the room registered. ‘It’s been taken down,’ she said in surprise. ‘Brian had all our best work framed and put up on the walls. And there were the awards and certificates we won...’

She sounded distinctly upset now, and Samir found himself explaining.

‘I can’t work in clutter,’ he said. ‘I didn’t really look at the walls last time I was here, but I asked for the office to be cleared out completely before I joined. I assume Brian took the ads home.’

He was probably right—Brian had been inordinately proud of the collection of award-winning ads his walls had been plastered with and it was more than likely he hadn’t wanted to leave them behind. It felt a little as if the soul of the agency had been torn away, Melissa thought, and then gave herself a quick mental shake. Brian was gone, and agonising over the past wasn’t going to do her any good.

‘There are soft copies of everything saved on the common drive that we all have access to,’ she said briskly. ‘I can show you if you like.’

She went around to his side of the table so that she could show him where the ads were stored. As he turned the laptop, his hand touched hers briefly, and she pulled away as if from an electric shock. His lips tightened imperceptibly, making her flush. For a few seconds she’d forgotten that she was dealing with a rather dangerously good-looking man, and the sudden jolt of attraction had made her react stupidly.

‘So, the ads are here,’ she muttered, pointing at the screen. ‘I’ll...um...leave you to it, then.’

He looked up. ‘Which one is the ad you wrote—the one Brian said was nominated for an award?’

‘It’s in the Robinson folder,’ she said. ‘The third one.’

He pulled the ad up onto the screen and looked at it silently for a while. It was a text-only ad for a range of baby products, and she’d written it from the point of view of a first-time mum. It was charming, and a little whimsical, and it wasn’t really an ad in the traditional sense because it didn’t talk about the products at all—it just said ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ and the brand name at the end.

‘Interesting,’ Samir said. ‘Any idea on how it impacted sales?’

Melissa stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. ‘It doesn’t work that way,’ she protested. ‘Ads like these make customers connect with the brand. There’s no immediate effect on sales.’

‘Right...’ he said, but he was evidently not convinced. ‘Always helps to have sales figures, though.’

It took all Melissa’s willpower not to snap at him. ‘I work on the creative side,’ she said finally. ‘It’s the client servicing guys who work on the numbers.’

‘You’re not curious enough to ask for them?’

‘I did ask!’ she said. ‘The sales figures were good, but I’ve forgotten exactly what percent they went up by. Devdeep would have the details.’

Samir didn’t react, and she wondered if he’d even heard what she’d said. He was gazing intently at a spreadsheet now, his brows narrowed in concentration. In spite of her annoyance, one part of Melissa’s brain noted that he managed to look very, very hot in an intense, brooding kind of way. Even when he clearly found his spreadsheet more fascinating than her ad.

She moved towards the door in what she hoped was an unobtrusive manner, and her hand was on the doorknob when he looked up, his rather stern features lightened by a genuine smile.

‘It’s a great ad, by the way,’ he said. ‘I can see why Brian thought so highly of you.’

The smile made his eyes crinkle up at the corners—suddenly he seemed a lot more human and approachable, like a movie star morphing into the local college football hero. Except that he was far more potently male than the average college heartthrob, and Melissa felt her breath come a little faster.

‘Thank you,’ she said, all her usual poise deserting her. ‘I’ll...um...I’ll see you around, then, OK?’

She slipped out of the door, but it was a few minutes before Samir went back to his spreadsheet.