One Indian Girl by Chetan Bhagat

‘Yeah. What douchebags.’
‘You cancelled the deal?’
‘Well, we can’t work with sexist people like that. They made you so uncomfortable.’
‘I was taken aback a bit, yes. But an odd comment here or there doesn’t bother me.’
‘It’s not okay, Radhika,’ Neel said, raising his voice loud enough for even Bianca to notice.
‘There was business there,’ I said.
‘So?’ Neel said.
I looked at him. We exchanged a glance. I don’t know if I imagined it, but it lasted a heartbeat
longer than it should have between a partner and an associate.
‘Listen, Radhika. I am not going to allow anyone to treat you like this,’ he said and
immediately corrected himself. ‘I mean, not going to allow anyone in my team to be treated like that.’
‘All right. But I was fine,’ I said.
‘No. Don’t be fine. No business is worth that. We can let it go, okay?’
I looked at Neel.
‘Thanks,’ I said in a subdued voice.
‘You are welcome,’ he said. ‘Now, what are your birthday plans?’
‘I have a few calls with prospective El Casa buyers tonight.’
‘Gosh, you are incorrigible,’ Neel said.
‘It’s not so bad. Simon has organized drinks. A couple of Goldman associates are coming.’
‘Nice. Have fun,’ he said.
I wondered if I should invite him. He read my mind.
‘I would have come, but it will be awkward for the rest if a partner shows up.’
‘I understand. No issues,’ I said.
‘Happy birthday again, Radhika,’ he said.
I came back to my desk. I touched the petals of one of the twenty-six roses. My phone rang. I
had a call from India. I picked up the phone.
‘Hey, sister,’ Aditi didi said. ‘Happy birthday. I came home today. We miss you.’