Chapter 6: The Tables Turn

Looking at his smug face, I couldn’t believe I’d ever spoken up for him to the boss. Blame it on my own naivety, thinking you should repay help with gratitude. But maybe, sometimes, you need to draw a line.

I sighed, picked up the pen, and looked at the IOU. My hand hovered, fingers tapping, heart pounding. "Fine, I’ll sign. But remember, from now on, there’s nothing between us. Bas, yahan tak tha. Ab kuch nahi bacha."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Bhai-bhai bhi hisaab rakhte hain, dosto!"

I said nothing more and signed, pressing the pen down so hard I nearly tore the paper. He was thrilled, but he didn’t realize that, at that moment, I’d already won.

Our boss is notoriously kanjoos—he hates paying severance. Company policy: N+1 compensation, which for my colleague meant one and a half lakhs. The boss privately offered me thirty percent if I could fire employees for cause. Not strictly legal, but in India, cost-cutting ka jugaad chalta hai.

Fifty thousand rupees—almost a year’s rent in Mumbai.

As it happened, I already had evidence to get my colleague fired. Yesterday, while he was getting chutney at dinner, his phone buzzed with a file from an unsaved number—a confidential company file, sent to a university student in Pune. For two years, he’d been outsourcing his job to a student for two thousand a month, while pocketing full salary.

I told the boss, "Personal ka personal, kaam ka kaam." We decided to have my colleague sign away his bonuses and leave quietly, no scandal. I really tried to help him save face. In the end, I was just a soft-hearted clown.

He tucked away the IOU, patted my shoulder, and grinned, "You really should thank me. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten that tenfold compensation. Main hi toh lucky charm hoon! Phir kab treat de raha hai?"

I gave him a polite, fixed smile. "Haan bhai, bahut badi kripa ki tumne."

He winked, "Barbeque Nation ho yaa biryani, tu decide kar. Lekin treat banta hai!"

The others got excited. "Haan haan, treat ho jaye! Next time toh hum bhi aayenge."

Their excitement made me tired. The idea of another meal with them made my stomach churn. I was afraid it would be a farewell dinner.