Codename lotus, p.21
Codename Lotus, page 21
Months in this house had taught me to meet things more front-on. Still, Desi as the beat of my passionate heart was, there was still a stuffy Brit inside me, bred on a diet of polite small talk and an inherent knack for discussing the weather with unparalleled enthusiasm.
Allison found a spot on the sofa and I welcomed it.
This was exactly what I needed—a direct link to Naomi through the eyes of someone who knew her well.
“Well, Naomi is...quite memorable,” she said. “You notice when she isn’t there. No judgments. I am in your corner.”
She leaned in and with a twist of her mouth whispered, “Between you and me, I don’t love the guy either.”
Either? A sudden, searing flush surged up my neck. Am I that transparent?
Allison grinned wider. “Your face and your obvious apprehension tell me you won’t add to my provocative comment, which is fine. Naomi knows her better half throws tantrums—which means I catch his flak ninety percent of the time. She’s aware the man gets on my nerves, so don’t worry. You aren’t betraying her by agreeing with me. Holt doesn’t like him either.” She laughed. “How he gave him a hard time the night we arrived. Love that guy.”
“Right.” I smiled, still a little warm in the face. “How long have you worked for her?” I asked.
“Ten years.” The firelight made her look softer. “It’s been...enlightening. Naomi’s not just a boss—she’s a force of nature. You get swept up, and suddenly you’re sharper, and inevitably exceptional yourself.”
That definitely sounded like Naomi. Pride flickered in my chest.
“Funny you got to know the woman,” I said, “and I knew the girl. I must say that even though they are two very different people who have endured very different circumstances, they are both connected by a constant. The Naomi I knew back then was just as impressive and had that same ripple effect on others around her. If somewhat with different results. Every girl wanted to be her while every guy wanted to be with her.”
“I’m sure a girl or two must have wanted to be with her too.” Allison winked.
I burned. Had Naomi mentioned…?
“Relax.” She laughed. “I’m not saying you. But even if it were. God knows this woman spins heads. Don’t get me wrong, Naomi is gorgeous, classy, smart. But I think it’s a power thing if you ask me. People are naturally attracted to that. And besides, I’m bi, so not judging.”
She lifted her shoulders.
I nodded, somewhere between mortified and grateful.
Not that it would matter if Naomi had mentioned my orientation to her, but Naomi wouldn’t out me. And yet...it was obvious that Allison was aware. I wondered what that was about. Unless...I was so obvious that I was leaking.
“When it comes to Naomi, the world sees the shark,” she went on. “But I love what she’s done in India.”
My head lifted. “India?”
India was a delicate subject for Naomi because of how much it meant—the emotional implications and deep-rooted connection to her mother.
How painful would the taste, smell, and feel of a memory need to be for someone to take such drastic measures—even changing her diet?
But this? Naomi working in India? How?
“Mhm. Her entire IT team’s in Bangalore. Not on cut-rate outsourcing salaries. They make more than many Silicon Valley engineers. She anonymously funds girls’ schools and places them in excellent jobs through her contacts. And she secretly launched an Indian artist—got her into a very exclusive Florence event.”
My heart bloomed. Of course she had.
Just then, Lea popped her head in to say goodnight. Mikkel and Emma did a final comet-swoop through the room, and Emma launched herself at me.
“Goodnight hug!” she said, and Mikkel gave a solemn nod.
“Sleep well, Miss Saanya,” he said, hands behind his back.
“Dream of adventures!” I called after them, smiling.
When I turned back, Allison had her cheek in her palm, amused.
“Oof…” she said. “Naomi is so screwed.”
“Pardon?”
“I can see how you shook her foundations.” She lifted a brow. “That kindness and authenticity are a lethal combo. Even I am low-key attracted to you right now.”
My cheeks went volcanic.
She laughed. “I’m joking! About me. Naomi is definitely fucked.”
“Has she said something? What are you basing this on?”
“I’ve never, ever, in the ten years I’ve known her, seen Naomi apologize to someone…”
She had to be referring to last night, after Ethan’s scene.
Allison continued. “Or push back a deal to reassess, then buy a dying company with the intention of resuscitating it—let alone keep it.”
Reassess… Of course. Naomi’s golden deal. “Victoria Hale...”
Allison smirked knowingly. “You even remember the woman’s name instead of the company itself. Yes. Thera Corp. Only something momentous would make someone as focused and merciless as Naomi reconsider that decision.”
“She isn’t merciless,” I fired back.
“Oh, she is,” Allison said evenly, not unkindly.
“But she isn’t ill-intentioned. I’d say she is shrewd but not that. Perhaps a bit cavalier with her honesty—sometimes—and a bit rude, unnecessarily so, in my opinion—but it doesn’t seem to have disastrous repercussions.”
Unlike other people in my past.
If Allison thought Naomi was merciless, well…
Had Manish damaged me so much that I was now justifying Naomi’s more difficult personal traits?
Of course not. Rubbish. Naomi was a bit blunt around the edges, but she had never been merciless.
“When she needs to be, Naomi can be unwaveringly cold. But she isn’t reckless. We both know our girl was forced to grow up quickly,” she said. “Resurrecting Thera Corp is business suicide. She can afford the hit, though. It won’t even make a dent. But still. Quite a wooing gesture, don’t you think?”
Wooing gesture? What did she mean? Had Naomi kept Thera Corp because I had asked her to reconsider and not because of the profitable business model I had pitched?
“I—” My words drowned in my throat again. “I don’t—”
Allison sighed and patted my hand. “Well, Saanya, it’s been a pleasure.”
My eyes followed her as she stood and walked away.
“Jet lag is my enemy. Goodnight,” she called over her shoulder.
I’d just come out of the bathroom, smoothing lotion over my hands and elbows, when a knock sounded. I opened the door to find Naomi, cheeks flushed and breathing a little faster than normal.
“What’s wrong?” I tugged her in. “What are you doing here?”
She shook her head and waved it off. Her green eyes flashed around the room, then slid down my body before lifting again with a curious tilt. “Flannel fleece pajamas, are you kidding me?” she said.
I glanced down at myself.
“To be fair, these are merino wool,” I said. “I take them off once I’m in bed or I overheat. It’s getting harder to sleep comfortably.”
She huffed a tiny laugh. Her eyes gleamed. “Of course.”
The levity lasted only a second.
“Don’t change the subject. Why do you look so rattled?” I asked.
The thought of where she’d been, with whom, sickened me, and I blurted, “Never mind—please don’t tell me.”
Her expression softened. She lifted a hand. Her fingers grazed my cheek—and her gaze dropped to my mouth.
“Naomi…” I breathed. My fingers curled in on themselves to stop the tremor.
She leaned in. Her perfume wrapped around us as her breath skimmed my lips, and my knees threatened to give out.
My palm found her bare back, the smooth heat of it shocking against my fingertips. I traced lightly along her spine and felt her breath stutter. Her lips hovered so close I could almost taste the gin—juniper and something soft and sweet that was just…Naomi.
Our mouths were a breath apart when a voice boomed down the corridor like shattering glass.
“Naomi? Babe—let’s talk! Naomi? Where are you?”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m sorry, I have to…”
She broke away and was gone.
I stood there, heart slamming against my ribs, lips buzzing, my hand still tingling from the shape of her spine.
Did Naomi just…almost kiss me?
21
THE FALLOUT
NAOMI
Our argument had started back at the hotel.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Ethan snapped. “First you run off without telling me—no, you lie for months about where you’re going—and now you withhold sex? What’s even the point anymore?”
“Do you really want to have this conversation right now, Ethan?”
I was parched. After all that insipid champagne, I wanted something hard. A bottle of Hendrick’s on the sideboard caught my eye. I poured a gin and tonic and drained half of it in one swallow, while he kept going.
“Why the hell not? You lied to me, Naomi. You lied about his sister. Am I supposed to just accept that without question?”
I set the glass down with a hard clank and closed my eyes. I knew exactly where this was headed—the thing beneath every fight since he’d arrived.
“It’s not about what you think,” I said. “It’s complicated. I was helping someone—”
“Helping Sidharth’s sister.” Ethan seized on it. “It’s always about fucking Sidharth, isn’t it? Is that why you’re turning down sex? Because you hid here to see him? Because you’re sated?”
I lifted my gaze.
The words cut for their ignorance as much as their intent. My lies had hurt him, yes—but while his pain was justified, his entitlement to my body wasn’t. His demand for sex as if it were some kind of premarital duty or currency for forgiveness turned my stomach. And still…why had it been so easy to lie to him—and why didn’t I care?
I curled my fingers into tight fists. “Wouldn’t you love for your paranoid little fantasy to be true?” I picked up my clutch. “I’m going home. And please do yourself a favor. Don’t follow me.”
I left without bothering to shut the door behind me.
“Damn it, Naomi, don’t do this!” he shouted down the hall.
Back at the house, I’d barely shut my bedroom door when Ethan followed.
“Baby,” he said.
“Oh, so now I’m ‘baby’?” I pulled my hand from his. “Am I no longer a whore? Don’t you dare touch me.”
“Naomi—” Ethan tightened his fists, knuckles red, then released them on either side of his head, tie undone and shirt half-unbuttoned. “I—” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. I was angry and it was out of line. I’m sorry if you felt—”
“If I felt, Ethan? If?!” The major vein in my neck was about to burst. “Not if. You insulted me. Learn to apologize properly, and for once stop trying to gaslight me.”
“God! There’s no winning with you. I am trying to apologize—”
“You aren’t apologizing. You’re turning the tables and making me responsible for being offended by your disgusting insinuations. Please don’t insult my intelligence.”
“What does it even matter?” He threw his hands up and laughed. “You’re always somewhere else, Naomi. It’s always your work, or one of your beloved deals, or your friends.”
“What friends?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Friend. When do you ever put us first?”
“I’ve always balanced my life,” I said evenly. “My work, our relationship, it’s never been an either-or situation for me. But do you even hear yourself, Ethan? Every time I think we’ve hit rock bottom, you dig us deeper. It’s like you’re out to get me—to catch me doing something I shouldn’t be doing, feeding your paranoia.”
“Out to get you? What the hell are you talking about? You’re the one disappearing to the other side of the world, lying about where you are, and now playing host to that—woman.” He waved his hand dismissively.
“Don’t.” My voice dropped. “You don’t get to talk about her.”
He threw his hands up, a cynical smirk tugging at his lips.
“And while we’re at it, let’s not pretend this is about trust. Your parents had me sign that absurd prenup. Or have you forgotten about that?”
He gave a short, mirthless laugh.
“I signed because I thought we were building something worth protecting. But believe me, regret is fast approaching.”
The argument teetered on a precipice. He softened, voice dipping into that calculated gentleness that made me want to scream.
“Naomi, my love, I’m just trying to understand. We’re partners, aren’t we? Shouldn’t we share everything with each other? I just want to know. That’s all. Why is she here? Really here?”
My defenses shot up. It was that question, laced with false curiosity, that made me see it for what it was.
“I am not having an affair with Sidharth. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it? That’s the only reason you’re acting this way. Why do you want to marry me if you can’t even trust me, Ethan? Do you truly think so little of who I am? You don’t know me. You never have.”
“Of course I know you,” he said lightly, and instantly it soured. “I always admired how sentimental you really are. Birthdays, anniversaries, little celebrations…I think it’s endearing. The way you give people days off so they can celebrate whatever matters to them.”
What? My eyes narrowed.
“I have never considered myself to be a sentimental person, and perhaps that is a shame. But sentimentality has its place. What’s your point?”
He pushed off the wall, stepped closer. “You’re here, hiding out with her, aren’t you? That’s the truth.”
Blood ran cold in my limbs, but I didn’t flinch. I walked to my nightstand, and poured water from the carafe. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“If you’re not hiding, then you can tell me.”
I tightened my grip on the glass. “Fine. She is pregnant. And her parents don’t know yet. It’s delicate. She needed a place to stay.”
He didn’t look remotely satisfied. “Right. Always so close, always so dedicated. So now it’s a girlfriend? You never were a girls’ night out type, Naomi. What’s changed?”
“What are you implying?” My pulse picked up.
His blue eyes, usually charming, went cold. “Balance. That’s what you said before, isn’t it? That you always balanced your career and us. Well, from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like neglect. And now, you’re taking in strays for Sidharth.”
“If you insult her again,” I said, the glass trembling in my hand as I pointed at him, “I swear—”
“What? You’ll throw that glass at me? You’ll leave me again? What will you do, Naomi?!” He yanked his tie loose and flung it away, arms spread as if to say, here I am. Have at it.
The air thickened. The urge to slap him hummed through my palm. I felt suddenly cold. Disgusted. What were we turning into?
In my fury, I almost laughed—because it was all suddenly so clear.
“For months now, I’ve been trying to figure out why this hasn’t worked, Ethan. Why every time we fight, it feels like we’re on opposite sides. Why leaving you to come here felt so easy. I know now. I don’t love you. And I can’t marry you. Not when I’m realizing that love isn’t supposed to feel like this.”
His face crumpled. “What? Now you don’t love me? Just like that? Without warning?”
“Without warning?” I laughed—even if bitterly so. “Ethan, can you honestly tell me that this relationship—this unpleasant, constant back-and-forth—feels good to you?”
He scoffed. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’re saying this!”
“Not even an hour ago, your parents sat across from me and mocked me. Your mother with her mild, internalized misogyny. And that comment your father made about South Asian and Middle Eastern business practices was fully intentional. What was it he called us? Deceptive people. And you? You didn’t say a word. I realized then that I could never count on you to have my back.”
“That’s not fair, Naomi. That wasn’t about you. Besides, I didn’t want to cause a scene—”
“No. You didn’t want to upset them. You protected their bubble, Ethan, not me. You made me feel small. And I deserve better than that. So no, you don’t love me either. And that’s fine, because it simply means we end this now.”
“You’re overreacting. All this over one meaningless comment—” He shook his head. “My parents don’t mean these things in a bad way. You know they’re old-fashioned and have different ideas.”
“Meaningless comment? Half my DNA is Indian, Ethan. Me, the woman you claimed to love.”
“Funny how now that matters.” He scoffed. “If it weren’t for your last name, no one would even know.”
“Excuse me?”
His jaw flexed. “You just—you’re not—”
Anger rose like acid. “I’m not what, Ethan? Go ahead, make it explicit. Come on, there’s no going back for you, either way. So get it off your chest.”
It was like liquid past boiling point, spilling all over us. All over our life together. Burning me.
“You’re different, all right? That’s what I meant.” He shifted from foot to foot, looking me straight in the eye as he said it. “You’re not like them.”
“I—”
How had I never seen this side of him? How—
I blinked the stinging in my eyes away. I couldn’t speak.
In that instant, the knife that had been needling at my skin for years finally went in. Ethan was the loudest mirror, glaring back at me.
I swallowed. My throat clenched.
I had done this to myself, silently giving him room to call me out on it. I was asking for sympathy from a man who barely knew me. A man who was just as hollow as what was left of me.
Because no one knew me anymore.
I had let my seventeen-year-old self die alongside my parents years ago.
