The Deception (681 words)

 

It had hardly been a month since I joined the company. After completing some training, I was assigned to the newly formed Marketing Support Group, reporting directly to the Chief. I hadn’t met many colleagues yet, so I was pleased when the C​hief asked me to introduce myself and present on our group at an upcoming seminar for all marketing executives.

I prepared thoroughly—I wanted to leave a good impression.

The conference hall was packed. I began my presentation with some nervousness, but I gained confidence as I saw my Chief smiling and the audience listening intently. As I paused to change a slide, I noticed a young man staring at me. He was strikingly handsome in a maroon striped shirt and yellow tie—tall, rugged, and fair, reminding me of Brad Pitt in his younger days. I tried to ignore him, but something about his gaze pulled me in. It felt intense, almost predatory. I took a sip of water to steady myself.

After the talk, there were a few questions—most straightforward, but his were probing, almost playful, and testing. I answered them all, with the Chief stepping in once. He didn’t ask for more but kept watching me closely.

During the buffet lunch, I stood alone until he approached with a smile. “Did I upset you? I just wanted to get your attention,” he said.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Not at all. It showed you were paying attention.”

“I’m Girish, Senior Marketing Executive from the sixth floor. You’re Akila, right? You did great—I might be seeking help from the MSG often,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks, Girish. I sit on the third floor, near the Chief’s cabin.”

“Mind if I sit by your side this afternoon?” he asked. “Seats aren’t reserved, and you can’t stop me,” he joked.

“With pleasure,” I said, flustered, and walked away.

I chose a quiet corner seat. He joined me soon after. His nearness, the scent of his cologne—it was dizzying. When his hand brushed mine, I thought it was accidental. But it lingered. I chose to ignore it and listened as he whispered about his college days at XLRI—the same institute I’d attended. The three-hour session flew by. Before leaving, he pressed my palm and said he was looking forward to the days ahead.

Soon, we were in love. He’d often visit my cabin, supposedly for work, but really for our growing romance. We met frequently, watched movies, and dined out, but I was careful to keep my boundaries. He once mentioned that his wealthy, status-conscious parents might not approve of my humble background, but he was confident. “Never fear. I’ll never let you down,” he assured me.

Months later, he came to my cabin. “There’s a function tomorrow evening at the Taj Coromandel. Dress your best—you’ll be meeting my parents. Don’t let the high-society crowd faze you.”

 I’d never been to such a formal gathering. Nervously, I dressed in my best sari and wore the perfume he’d gifted me. The hall was grand, filled with elegantly dressed guests. I scanned the crowd—and froze.

There he was—in an embroidered cream achkan with a jasmine garland studded with maroon roses, standing beside a stunning woman in a sari glittering with gold. My heart sank. Was this… his engagement?

I was devastated. “What a cruel joke,” I thought, tears welling up. I turned away, trying to escape, but everything went black. I almost collapsed—until two arms caught me.

“Akila, are you okay? I should’ve told you,” Girish said in a familiar voice.

“Don’t touch me, you liar!” I shouted. “Go marry that girl!”

He started laughing. “That’s Gautam, my twin brother! We’re identical—I made him wear the same outfit just for fun. He sports a moustache to look different. Today, he had removed it for the function. You’re quick to jump to conclusions.”

Then, grinning, he put his arm around me and said, “Come on. Let’s go meet my parents. Don’t worry. I have done the preliminary work and everything will go smoothly.”