The Accidental Apprentice Read Free Page A

ringing as I pick up the form. It is short, just five sentences:
    1. The signer hereby agrees to be considered for the post of CEO of the ABC Group of Companies.
    2. The signer hereby permits the ABC Group to perform necessary checks and procedures to assess the signer’s suitability for the job.
    3. The signer is not permitted to terminate the agreement mid-way, while the necessary checks and procedures are still being conducted.
    4. The signer agrees to maintain complete confidentiality of this agreement by not discussing it with any third party.
    5. In consideration of the above, the signer has received a non-refundable advance of ₹100,000.
    â€˜This only talks of one lakh rupees,’ I observe. ‘Didn’t I hear you mention the figure of ten billion dollars?’
    â€˜The one lakh is simply to participate in the tests. If you fail, you get to keep the money. And, if you pass, you get the job. I assure you the CEO’s salary will have many more zeroes.’
    By now the warning bell is clanging like a fire alarm. I know that this is a swindle, and that Acharya has tried this ploy before. ‘Tell me, how many people have you got to sign this form so far?’
    â€˜You are candidate number seven.’ Acharya exhales. ‘But I know in my heart that you will be the last one. My quest is over.’
    â€˜So is my time.’ I stand up decisively. ‘I have no intention of signing this form or participating in any test.’
    Rana responds by laying a stack of thousand-rupee notes on the table. They look crisp and new, straight from a bank. He is baiting me, but I am not tempted. ‘You think you can buy me with your money?’
    â€˜Well, this is a negotiation, after all,’ Acharya insists. ‘Remember, in business as in life, you never get what you deserve: you only get what you negotiate.’
    â€˜I don’t negotiate with people I hardly know. What if this is some kind of trap?’
    â€˜The only trap is that of low expectations. Look, I understand your reservations,’ Acharya says soothingly, leaning forward on his elbows. ‘But you need to take a less bleak view of human nature, Sapna. I sincerely and genuinely want to make you my CEO.’
    â€˜Do you have any idea how ridiculous this conversation sounds? Such things happen only in movies and books, not in real life.’
    â€˜Well, I am real and you are real and my offer is real. A man like me does not waste time in tomfoolery.’
    â€˜I am sure you can find other candidates who would be more than willing to accept your offer. I am not interested.’
    â€˜You are making a big mistake.’ Acharya wags a finger at me. ‘Perhaps the greatest mistake of your life. But I will not pressurise you. Take my card, and, if you change your mind within the next forty-eight hours, call me. The offer will still be valid.’ He pushes a business card across the table, Rana watching me like a hawk.
    I take it, smile tightly at them, and then, without as much as a backward glance, head for the door.
    *   *   *
    My mind is spinning faster than a CD as I hurry towards B-Block. The overwhelming feeling I have is one of relief, as though I had escaped from some grave danger by the skin of my teeth. I look over my shoulder periodically to make sure the duo are not following me. The more I reflect on what has just transpired, the more convinced I am that Acharya is either a devious shark or a raving lunatic. And I want no truck with either category.
    I breathe easy only once I return to the safety of the showroom, to my air-conditioned world of plasma TVs, frost-free refrigerators and fuzzy-logic washing machines. Banishing Acharya and his crazy offer from my mind, I change back into my work uniform, and begin the habitual hunt for prospective buyers. Afternoons are generally a sluggish period for sales and there aren’t too many customers vying for attention. I try to