One Indian Girl(30)

‘I am sorry. I still can’t get over the number. It’s insane. You have less than two years of work experience.’

‘Distressed pays well. My deals made a lot of money. So a bit of luck too. But yeah, even I was shocked when I heard it.’

‘You make, like, three times as much as me? Mindblowing.’

Why did he have to say it like that? Why compare? I wanted to tell him about my base increment too. I don’t know why but I decided against it.

‘Well, between two people someone will end up earning more. Some industries pay more, as simple as that,’ I said.

‘Hmmm. . .’ He stabbed a piece of lamb with his fork.

‘Let’s go on a nice vacation. Anywhere. Europe? Hawaii?’ I said.

He laughed. ‘Feeling rich?’

‘I am rich. We are rich. Let’s go shopping this weekend. You will come?’

‘Maybe. You told your parents?’

‘I will. I will call mom when she wakes up.’

‘They will be so happy.’

‘I hope so. I wanted them to buy a Honda City. I think I will ask them to get an even better car.’

‘You are a great daughter. They will be so proud of you.’

‘Thanks. Debu, I have one question.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Are you proud of me? For real?’

‘Yeah, I am.’

We looked into each other’s eyes. Together, we had made a place for ourselves in this new city. We had not only survived, but also thrived. He had been promoted. I had done well. We were good for each other. I held on to his hand. He cleared his throat to speak. I wondered if he would say something romantic.

‘Sorry, but are you going to eat that last piece of lamb?’ he said.



‘A hundred and fifty thousand dollars. So one-and-a-half lakh dollars,’ I said on the phone to my mother.

‘Tell me in rupees,’ she said.

‘It is forty-five to the dollar now. So, around 70 lakhs.’

‘That’s your bonus?’ I heard a vessel drop.

‘I am sending some money to your account. Please go shopping,’ I said.

‘You had a 70-lakh-rupees bonus?’ my mother repeated.

‘Yes.’

‘In addition to your salary?’

‘Yes.’

‘What kind of work do you do anyway?’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘I have never heard anyone earn that much.’

‘I told you, I am in distressed debt. So we work with companies in trouble.’

‘How can you make money if those companies are in trouble?’

I laughed, ‘We do. Is dad around?’

‘Yeah,’ she said and shouted out for him. ‘Listen. Come here. Your daughter made 70 lakhs!’

Her voice could probably be heard across the whole colony they lived in. So much for Goldman’s confidentiality clauses.

I narrated the entire bonus story and calculation to dad. After a minute of stunned silence, he spoke in an emotional voice. ‘Even the SBI chairperson doesn’t make that much. You are twenty-four years old. My little girl has become such a big shot.’

I found it difficult to hold back tears.

‘I am still your little daughter, dad. The one who held your finger on the way to the school bus stop.’

‘You are my sweetest little one,’ he said.

‘Remember you used to tell me to stand on my own feet? To not worry about anything else, to just do the best I can? That’s all I did, dad.’

I heard him sob. My father cries more than all the women in the house.

‘I am so proud of you,’ he said.

‘I love you. I miss you,’ I said.

‘Come home soon,’ he said.

‘I will. I will take a vacation at Christmas time. What do you want? Can I get you anything?’

‘Get my little girl to me soonest.’

I hung up the phone. I realized I had cried after a long time. Who knew 270,000 dollars could make you so emotional?





13


‘Cheers!’ Jonathan raised a toast. ‘To my amazing associates, Craig and Radhika.’

We lifted our glasses. As per distressed debt tradition, the entire group went out for drinks on the Friday night of the bonus announcement week. We had come to Harry’s Café & Steak, a five-minute walk from the Goldman building. Harry’s was a Wall Street institution, where senior bankers and CEOs lunched and closed some of the biggest mergers and financial deals. Around twenty of us from the Distressed Debt Group congregated in the bar area. Jon Cruz came only for a few minutes; he chatted with senior MDs and vice presidents before leaving for the weekend at his Hamptons beach house.

‘See you, guys. And enjoy yourself. It’s on me,’ Jon said as he left the bar, leaving his credit card behind.

People had invited their significant others, which meant wives, husbands, girlfriends and boyfriends. Even I had invited Debu. I had finally gathered the courage to make him public to my team. Until now my group considered me a geek, in a relationship with her financial models. Tonight they would see my man.

White-gloved waiters passed around champagne glasses on silver trays.

‘Happy with your number?’ Craig said to me. Confidentiality clauses apart, bonus gossip was just too hard to resist.