Page 60 of Not Safe for Work
‘It seemed like it,’ she said slowly. ‘What that means on paper though, I have no idea.’
She was right, he had been conveniently vague about that part. If fifteen people were going to face off in a corporate showdown, it was only fair we knew what we were competing for. Marketing lead of the fashion vertical? Creative head? A made-up designation that sounded important but meant nothing?
‘Are you … going to go for it?’ Tanya hesitated, toying with the edge of her notebook.
Fancy title or not, it had to be a step up from my current limbo. ‘Yeah, this could be the opportunity I’ve been hounding Varun for.’
‘Same.’
Our eyes met and a silent understanding passed between us. It made my body tense up ever so slightly. Because the fact was, we both wanted the same thing … and only one of us could have it.
The interaction with Tanya had left me feeling strangely heavy, so when Neil told me he had a ‘proposal’ to discuss with me, I wasn’t exactly in the mood.
‘No, thank you,’ I said, brushing him off. ‘I’ve had enough surprises for one day.’
He wheeled his chair closer to mine. ‘I promise you’ll like this one.’
I sighed, realizing that he wasn’t going to leave me alone until I’d heard him out. ‘Okay, what is it?’
He pushed his chair back and got up. ‘Let’s go out for lunch. I’ll explain there.’
Lunch? Withhim? The idea was preposterous.
‘Come on, I know you didn’t get your dabba today.’ He pointed at the corner that usually held my lunchbox.
Damn you, Sarita didi. Why did you have to take a leave today of all days?
He continued to tower over me as I weighed my options. I’d initially planned to grab lunch with Tanya at our usual south Indian spot, but I’d noticed her leaving ten minutes ago by herself. I could, of course, order in, but the food delivery apps always charged a notoriously high fee. ‘Fine. But a quick lunch. I’ve got a lot left to do.’
He grinned. ‘Yes, boss.’
Out in the compound, people were spilling out of office buildings from all directions. It was two in the afternoon, which meant all the popular lunch spots would be packed.Maybe we could find a table at McDonald’s, I thought.
‘So, got any new scandals up your sleeve?’ I asked him as we walked towards the row of cafes. His legs were so long, I almost had to jog to keep up.
He just shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.
‘Oh my God, you do! Show me, please.’
He chuckled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. I craned my neck as he opened his Instagram app and handed it to me.
I gasped so loud, I felt a few heads turn to look at me. There, in his drafts folder, was a collage comparing Bollywood’s newest nepo kid’s red-carpet gown to a vintage sofa cover. And no, I didnotmean the cute kind.
‘No way,’ I said to no one in particular, pinching the screen to zoom in. The caption was even better—biting, clever and with a classic @devilwearscolaba hashtag: #SoFaSoGood.
I closed the post and scrolled further, until I found something that made my jaw drop.I stared at the photo of one of Instagram’s loudest body-positivity warriors stepping out of a clinic in oversized sunglasses. The sign behind her exposed her hypocrisy in giant, LED letters: Fit & Flawless, Advanced Body Sculpting Studio.
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ I whisper-screamed, just as Neil plucked his phone out of my hands.
‘Sorry, I thought I’d deleted that,’ he said, locking the screen.
‘You’re not going to post it?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s her body.’
