Warrior - Chapter Eight

Amma's dismay was clear, on display. After the Raizada's left on Saturday, Amma hadn't heard a word from them. She debated on calling them herself, but hesitated. Then the days passed, which made her think it was too late to call. Her hope of them calling was too obvious, hoping that by some miracle they would express interest.

But little did Amma realize that Shalini Singh Raizada had already tossed the ball to my side of the court, and I'm sure that given by her words that day, she was waiting for the ball to be thrown back to start up a never ending game. Was Shalini Singh Raizada as anxious as my mother? I highly doubt it. But I'm sure she wants for this game to continue.

While Amma crazed about and ate Babuji's ears, I focused on the thing I loved most - work. When Monday rolled by, I was more than happy to go to the office. See, even though Gupta Enterprises wasn't as big as AR Group of Industries, we were still rather well - even if we didn't own a whole skyscraper like them in the city. No, we only held office space on a floor of the building that was owned by them, but we always dealt with their people put in charge, never with the Raizada's. Do I take it personally? No, its just business, that's what hiring people are for - so you don't gotta do it yourself. I respect their hustle if anything, especially since it isn't corrupt.

I spend most of my days in my corner office, occasionally enjoying the view of the other buildings around me when I'm not stuck in work or engaged in meetings. The only place I feel at peace is whenever I'm here. Actually, I always feel at peace whenever I'm engorged with work - nothing else could bother me, nothing else mattered.

The days go on by, and on Thursday, instead of getting ready for the office, I get ready for the golf field. I opt for a black, long sleeve golf dress and place a black cap on my head, my brown locks flowing free. At 11 o'clock, I arrive to the field with my caddie, and very soon, I meet Mr. Desai.

"Apologies," Mr. Desai says as he walks over, his caddie following behind him. "Sorry for running a little late, but it's nice to see that you were punctual, Ms. Gupta."

"That I always am, Mr. Desai."

We each got our own golf carts and headed on out to the field, our caddies assisting us. As we played, business was discussed. There was a time in my youth when it didn't make sense to me how business could ever occur out here. But after having a few meetings here myself, it became evident - very clearly - that it was indeed possible - not to mention worked as a great escape for those who needed it, as well as fit fun into their day.

By the time we get to the ninth hole, I've got what I wanted, Mr. Desai agreeing to give the exposure I wanted for my new project. Not only did I have his agreement, but I was totally beating him at his own game.

"Well Ms. Gupta, it looks like not only are you a really good businesswoman, but a really good golfer as well."

I couldn't help my arrogant smirk as I swung my club, the ball flying up into the air and coming back down to the grass, rolling and getting far closer to the hole unlike Desai's ball, which I'm sure will take him two more hits. Luckily for me, my ball kept rolling and by fortunes good graces, it went into the hole.

"Unbelievable," Desai breathed.

"I think that's it for me. Enjoy yourself Mr. Desai, it's an early weekend for all of us."

What, just because I love work and find peace in it, doesn't mean I don't enjoy a long weekend. I am only human after all.

Desai and I bid farewell and he goes on to continue playing by himself. I let my caddie go and he takes off, and I place my clubs on the cart before getting on. As I'm driving along the course, I see people here and there as they play. As I make my way to the main center, there's more people. Most of the training areas are closer by the entrance. Families could be seen with their kids, friends playing with each other, and of course, businessmen playing as well.

As I was about to get closer to the lot to park my cart, I noticed someone from the corner of my eyes. Taking a double take, I stepped down on the brake, coming to a halt.

"Well would you look at that," I muttered to myself.

Not far away, in one of the practice sections, was none other than Arnav Singh Raizada himself. He was very clearly focused on what he was doing, swinging his club at the ball before placing another one down and swinging at it.

Hmm... well I would expect a Raizada to be good at golf. I know these "big ones" especially love arranging meetings on the golf course.

And there was no denying that. Asides from the Raizada's being the biggest of the family empires, the other leading big ones loved to come out to the course. In the several meetings I've had out here, I've seen several of them. Surely Arnav Singh Raizada has too, I mean he has been CEO for 8 years now; I'm sure he's seen his fair share of this place a good too many times.

Releasing the brake, I moved forward. Raizada's practice area just so happened to be not so far away from the lot, and as I got closer, I stepped on the brakes once more.

"No shit-fucking way!"

I don't know why I'm so surprised, maybe I shouldn't even be. But then again I am, which by the way - why? And yet the shock and surprise remained as I watched Arnav Singh Raizada struck another ball, the ball shooting forward. My eyes followed the club as it came down from its swing, then followed up to his hand and up his very muscular arms. Now look, I get that he was wearing a full sleeve button down the other day, but I saw and knew that there was muscle on the man. Now that he's in a short sleeve black polo, it was even more than obvious that the man was muscular.

But that wasn't what had me so surprised. What had me so surprised was the sleeve of tattoos going up along his hand and on his arm, and under the sleeve of his shirt.

Arnav Singh Raizada, CEO of AR Industries, is a tattoo man.

Again, I know I shouldn't be surprised, people have their rights to these choices. And as for the aspect of business, well I always thought people were dumbfucks for not wanting to hire those with tattoos or piercings. What matters is the person's talents and their capabilities to help the company, not how they look. Anyone can put on slacks and a blazer, it ain't fucking hard. At Gupta Enterprises, we don't discriminate people for their appearance, live your life as you will. We've got workers with tattoo sleeves. Heck, some even have gauges, who cares! So long as they know their job and do their job, I don't care.

And yet, seeing the tattoos along Arnav's arm, still has me stunned.

I could've sworn Payal shook hands with him- wait, she was holding her right hand out, which means he shook with his right hand too. The tattoos are on his left... right, he had his hand tucked in his pocket, no wonder I didn't notice.

I find it odd that this particular detail didn't cross my eyes. Then again, it's not like I gave any fucks about him or anything related to him that day.

Well no, that would be rude on Shalini's behalf. After all I liked the woman - she had balls.

Immediately, my mind thought of the one picture I cared to click on when Payal made me look him up online the last week. I admit, I didn't bother scrolling down to see the other results, just the first few that were already up on the screen. And given that I was so curious at the time as to why Shalini Singh Raizada had a death wish for her and her son (again, at the time), that's the only reason why I clicked on that specific picture and the article. As I'm recalling the picture, I remember now that the picture was cropped from the bottom, the focus mainly on how Shalini had her arm linked to Arnav's as she looked at her son proudly.

"So... the proud son is a badass, tattooed CEO, huh?"

Arnav Singh Raizada swung his club once more, shooting the ball forward. Suddenly, a man steps forward, holding out a phone. Arnav takes it, holding the phone with his right, while his left is holding onto the golf club, slightly leaning on it.

Once again, I release the brake and move forward. As I get closer, the tattoos become more evident and details start to show, though not as clear; I'd have to be standing next to him.

By the time I get to the lot, Arnav Singh Raizada has finished his phone call and is preparing to leave. I get out of my cart and pick up my clubs, then make way too the main center to get valet to bring my car out.

What? Did you think I was going to go over to the guy? Clearly you don't know me.

It's not long before the valet comes out with my Aston Martin, and they help put my clubs in the trunk before returning the keys to me. Getting in my car, I make my way home. One of the maids is dusting the main hall, and I catch baby sis in the living room, pacing back and forth as she tapped a pen on her lips with her eyes closed, a notebook in her other hand.

"Studying hard, squirt?"

Her eyes opened and she pouted at me as she groaned. "These midterms are gonna kill me!"

Placing myself down on the couch, I smirked at her. Payal closed her eyes once more and began pacing again, once again tapping the pen on her lips as she tried to memorize whatever the hell she was trying to memorize.

I wonder....

Well, she is my baby sis after all.

"Promise not to tell mom?"

Her eyes immediately spring open; she already knows what's going on. That's how it is with us sisters. All one of us ever had to say was promise not to tell mom, and we kept that shit buried, taking it to the grave if necessary.

So far it's never been that extreme, but hey, you never know. And when it comes to what I'm about to tell her, she might have to take it to the grave.

"Promise," she says, as she sits down on the coffee table, placing her pen and book down. "Spill."

"I saw a certain someone at the golf course that I didn't expect to have tattoos."

Payal tilted her head with a frown. "Who? Mr. Desai? Doesn't seem the type, but then again, you never know."

"No, not Desai," I shook my head. "Arnav Singh Raizada."

The frown on her face disappeared as her eyes widened and lit up. But before she could completely light up and squeal, I shushed her immediately, making her slightly calm down - but she started rocking back and forth in circles to contain herself.

Geez, I'm starting to regret this.

"Well, wait," she said, her bubbliness calming down as she frowned once more. "What do you mean you didn't expect his tattoos? Didn't you see his pictures?"

I explained to Payal of what my Google search had been and she palmed her forehead.

"Geez-us, Di, how dumb are you," she said, her palm still to her forehead as she shook her head.

I scowled at her. Not that she cared.

"Like seriously Di," she muttered on, reaching into her back pocket to pull out her phone. "I mean I'm surprised given that you have the stupidest crush on David Beckham."

Now there's a man that I am an extreme sucker for. Can you blame me though?

Payal taps away on her phone, still shaking her head at me. "I mean this guy is in the fucking league up there with David Bekham. Even Adam Levine!"

Ah, another man I'm a sucker for.

Baby sis stood up and walked over to me, shoving her phone in my face. I scowl at her as I grab it, though she's already frowning at me, and look at the screen in front of me. I catch sight of her google search.

"Arnav Singh Raizada full body tattoos," I question, arching my brow at her.

"I'm telling you Di, you won't be disappointed," she winks, then heads out of the room.

Oh baby sis, you have too many- "What the fuck?!"

Payal pokes her head back in. "Told you," and she dashes off.

Once again, I'm stunned. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm stunned. Again, anyone can have a tattoo, there's not exactly a type, it's just a personal choice. And yet, initially, I didn't expect Arnav Singh Raizada to be a tattoo lover.

But boy was I wrong.

Arnav Singh Raizada is a tattooed badass. It starts on the top of his left hand, going up along his wrist to his arm, crossing over on his shoulder to his chest, which then traveled to his right shoulder and down his right arm as a half sleeve tattoo on his upper arm.

This time, I actually scrolled. There were a number of pictures, but he wasn't posing for any of them. They were clearly paparazzi shots, having been clicked while he was in the middle of something, be it a jog, a trip at the beach, or whatever. As I scrolled a little further down, a photo of him with him posing came up. Only he was all clad up in a suit, pretending to fix his sleeve.

"I mean this guy is in the fucking league up there with David Bekham. Even Adam Levine!"

Locking the phone, I got up and headed out of the room. As soon as I did, I found Payal leaning against the wall, eating an apple not so far away. A devilish smirk graced her face as she held her free hand out, and I placed her phone in it.

"Well," she questioned, wiggling her brows.

I simply looked at her, then walked away, hearing the little huh that escaped from her lips.

It ain't that easy, baby cakes.