Valley of Death. Scott Mariani

he’s half the workaholic he’s cracked up to be, he’ll be there.’

      The lift whooshed upwards. Ben watched the illuminated floor numbers on a panel above the doors tick off, all the way up to eighteen. Then Brooke said, ‘Here we are,’ and to the sound of a two-tone chime the sliding doors hissed open again to reveal the plush surroundings of the company CEO’s personal domain. There wasn’t a dusty plastic plant in sight, the air conditioning worked beautifully, and a secretary or PA a third of the age of Prajapati’s receptionist and much more attractive in her manner greeted them warmly when Brooke walked up to the desk and introduced herself as Mr Ray’s sister-in-law. The PA checked the computer, slim fingers skipping over the keyboard. She wore a ring on her thumb and a name tag marked ‘Salena’.

      ‘He has a two o’clock meeting, but I believe he’s free for a few minutes. Please hold on while I check for you.’ Salena picked up the phone, spoke briefly in Hindi, then motioned towards a door at the end of a passage and said, ‘Please go through, Mrs Ray. He’ll be very happy to see you.’ Her dark eyes lingered on Ben, and she flashed him a coy smile.

      ‘Pretty,’ Brooke said in an undertone as they left the reception area.

      ‘Is she? I hadn’t noticed.’

      ‘I’ll bet you hadn’t.’

      Brooke was about to knock at the door when it opened, and Ben met Samarth Ray for the first time.