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...’