The New Classic

Chapter Five

I pressed two fingers into my temple, nearly going cross eyed from continuously looking at the spreadsheet in front of me on the screen. It had been exactly four days since Neil - god, that would take some getting used to - had called me into his office. Four days since I'd seen him at all. Truth be told, I had been blindsided to see him here. Never in my wildest dreams had I expected to see the best sex of my life at my new office. And as my boss. God, this was a fucking mess. But I was glad that we had talked and agreed upon the fact that nothing would ever happen between us ever again. Because we were professionals. Not that I was hoping for a repeat of that night, anyways. Maybe.

Groaning, I rolled back my shoulders, pushing away from my desk. I had been allotted a cabin at the far end of the office, right beside where the entire finance and accounting department worked. Mira's desk was on another floor, since she worked in the Communications department, which meant that I had to walk all the way downstairs just to talk to her. I could email her obviously, but that was too formal. So here I sat, with my door open, crunching numbers and contemplating how the hell I had gotten to where I was right now. Oh yeah wait, I know. Maybe because the importance of a job at a top position with great financial security had been drilled into my head by my parents. Back then, I'd thought accounting would be perfect for me - you know, following in dear daddy's footsteps and all since he worked in finance too. But boy, hadn't I been wrong. But I couldn't do anything about it even if I didn't like it. Because Joshis never gave up halfway. They never, under any circumstances, failed. Over time, I would say that I'd gotten used to it. Analysing spreadsheets, preparing budgets, checking liquidity ratios had become sort of second nature to me. I guess I was comfortable with it now.

My eyes went to the digital clock on my desk as I cursed under my breath. It was 3pm - and way past my usual lunchtime. Tapping the screen of my phone once, I saw that I had received a couple of text messages from Mira.

Mira: It's lunchtime now. You coming?

Mira: What do we think about Thai?

Mira: Okay, since you haven't answered yet, I'm going to assume that you're busy doing whatever you're supposed to be doing.

Mira: The rest of my team just asked me to have lunch with them. Gonna get some Indian food. I guess it's okay.

Mira: HELLO BITCH??? ARE YOU ALIVE???

Mira: Mom, I'm kinda getting scared.

Mira: Kidding. I know how you get when you're in the zone. Text me when you see my messages. Or call me. Whatever. You know the drill. BYE.

I responded to her messages, noting that they were almost two hours ago. Sighing, I removed my packed lunch from my purse, setting it on the desk. I had recently started a diet that consisted mainly of greens and a lot of proteins. Something about how consuming all the nutrients was important blah blah. It was disgusting, in my opinion. But Mumma had commented on my weight during our last video call, very clearly letting me know that I probably wouldn't fit into my future wedding outfit if I kept eating like a pig. I had cracked a joke about it, stating if my future husband couldn't accept a pig for a bride, then he wasn't worth marrying. She hadn't cracked a smile, to say the least. But it had hurt, of course. Growing up, she always controlled the portion size of my favorite foods, always telling me that I'd thank her later in my 40s. Every single time she said stuff like that, she chipped away at my confidence. I started hating my curves. And so, started my journey of hating my body and constantly criticising it.