Free The Zoya Factor by Anuja Chauhan

bullshit slave-labour two-lakhs-per-annum package.) 'Harry's very vehmi, 'Lokey continued. 'He has even changed the spelling of his name to Hharviinder Singh...'
    'And he wears a neelam on his middle finger,' I added and sighed. This guy Hairy was obviously a fruitcake. (A neelam-wearing fruitcake with a strained groin. How gross is that?) 'Look, Lokendar,' I said, 'the bottom line is that I need those shots fast - I have to print bottle labels and roll out posters within a week.'
    'Okay, okay,' he huffed and puffed. ' Mein kuchh karta hoon...'
    But of course he couldn't do a thing. The whole day went by chasing those idiots. My idiot client Ranjeet called Sanks who called me and freaked out totally. 'Why are you not on top of things, Zoya?' he ranted.'Do you want me to pull Ishaan out of the ICU and send him there to show you how it's done?'
    Please. I'd trained Ishaan from scratch. Did he really think he could get under my skin with that pathetic ploy? 'I am on top of things, Sanks,' I said soothingly. 'And don't insult me by going on about Ishaan all the time. I also have some Standing in thee Society, you know...'
    ***

    The next morning I pulled on my cargos and a tee shirt I'd borrowed from Neelo (I was fast running out of clothes) and hit the ground running. Time was running out. Vishaal was piling up an unimaginable food and beverage bill and my much looked-forward-to Bombay shoot was almost over. I had to nail those bastards today.
    I got into the elevator to find Khoda on board, looking freshly showered and riding downwards in his grey Gold's Gym tracks. 'Good morning,' he said pleasantly. 'Aren't you late for your flight?'
    'No, actually,' I said sweetly. 'My boss says I can't leave till I get all my shots.'
    He looked a little taken aback. 'What d'you mean? Don't tell me your photographer couldn't finish all the shots yesterday either!'
    That made my hackles rise. I mean, Vishaal would've finished all the shots on the first day itself if Khoda hadn't rushed his boys for practice. And now, he was insinuating we were slow when it was the boys who were dragging their feet!
    'He didn't get a chance to shoot yesterday, at all,' I said, feeling my nostrils beginning to flare. 'Your openers are suffering from strained groins and so are unavailable to shoot.'
    He looked surprised, and not unamused. 'Harry's strained his groin?' he grinned. 'First I've heard of it.'
    'Well, he says he has,' I said as neutrally as I could. I mean, I couldn't call Hairy a liar to his skipper's face. 'And so has Shivnath, apparently.'
    Nikhil nodded, his smile getting wider.
    'And so my shoot' - my voice wobbled a little but I couldn't help that - 'is off.'
    Khoda was grinning unabashedly now. 'So Little Miss Fix-It has run up against something she can't fix!' he crowed in a not very captain-like manner.
    Then, as I looked up at him, practically teary-eyed with frustration, he said, in a nicer voice, 'Tell me, do you think they're faking it?'
    Well, he'd asked for it. 'Yes!' I nodded, vigorously. 'Harry and Shiv are playing hide-and-seek with me. They're thinking that maybe they won yesterday because of me and so they want me to stay here for the next match-breakfast to test the theory! I can't - obviously! Because I have a life too, you know. So now they're trying to delay my departure as long as possible by kidding around with my shoot...'
    'But you're the one who put the idea into their heads,' Khoda pointed out, infuriatingly logical. 'Didn't you go, all chirpily, "Hey, maybe I bring you guys good luck!"'
    I winced. He'd mimicked my voice perfectly. 'It was a joke ,' I said defensively. 'I never thought they'd take it seriously.'
    He was quiet for almost a whole minute. Then he said, 'Look, why don't you just do what the boys want? Stay till day after, eat breakfast with us, get your shots in the evening, and leave?'
    I was surprised. 'But, you said, that day... ' I started and then stopped.
    '...that I don't think you're a good-luck