Chapter 7 #2
As she began to explain, he listened. Not just to the content, but to the cadence of her voice. The quiet confidence. The way she leaned slightly forward when she made a point, then settled back again.
Their knees didn’t touch. But they were close enough that he was acutely aware of her presence, of the warmth she brought into his space, of how easily she occupied it.
Raghav removed the silver dome from her plate first, then his own. Steam rose from the dishes. The scent filled the room, rich and inviting.
He noticed the pause in her expression. Brief. Almost invisible.
When she turned the laptop toward him, he leaned closer than necessary, his shoulder pressing lightly against hers. “The color scheme is better.”
“Thank you.” She scrolled through the slides, walking him through the changes. Her tone stayed even, professional, but she shifted slightly in her chair, adjusting to the space he hadn’t given back.
They ate as they talked.
Food helped. It gave them somewhere to look when the silence stretched, something to do with their hands when eye contact lingered a second too long. Conversation paused and resumed easily, like this was normal. Like it hadn’t changed anything.
“The investor dinner is scheduled for eight,” Raghav said. His hand moved toward the document she held, his fingers grazing her knuckles. The paper crinkled between them. One heartbeat. Two. Three. Her fingers uncurled from the page, leaving it in his possession.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “The presentation is scheduled for eight. I’ve confirmed all attendees.”
“You live in Bandra?” he asked out of nowhere, though he already knew the answer.
Ishani blinked. “Yes.”
“Family?”
Her eyebrow raised slightly at this clearly personal query. “I stay alone.”
Raghav’s jaw tightened, a muscle flexing along his temple before he controlled it. The image of Ishani arriving home alone, entering an empty apartment, sat uncomfortably in his mind.
“Is the building secure?” The question came out sharper than he’d intended.
“Very.” She tilted her head slightly, studying him. “Why the sudden interest in my living arrangements, Boss?”
The title—formal, distancing—irritated him. “Security concerns. After yesterday’s incident with Westbrook, it’s clear some clients don’t respect boundaries.”
“I doubt Westbrook knows where I live.”
“That’s not the point.” Raghav’s voice hardened. “Your safety is a company concern.”
“Is it?” Ishani’s expression changed slightly, as if she realized his interest was more than just work-related. “The company never cared about where the other assistants live.”
Raghav met her gaze directly. “Other assistants weren’t you.”
The words hung between them, too revealing, too honest. He watched color rise in her cheeks, the faintest pink against her skin.
“I mean,” he corrected, “other assistants weren’t as involved with high-profile clients and sensitive information.”
Ishani nodded slowly, accepting his explanation though her eyes suggested she’d heard the first answer more clearly. “Well, I appreciate the concern, but I’m perfectly safe.”
Raghav turned back to the presentation, changing topics. “The growth projections. You verified them?”
“Yes. Finance confirmed the numbers.”
“Good.” He gestured to her plate. “You’ve hardly eaten. The food not to your liking?”
“It’s excellent.” She took another bite as if to prove it. “I’m just focused on the presentation.”
“We have time.” Raghav leaned back in his chair, watching her. “The meeting isn’t until three.”
“But I should prepare—”
“After lunch.” He cut her off smoothly. “Tell me about your weekend plans.”
Again, that subtle shift from professional to personal. Ishani’s eyes narrowed slightly, assessing him.
“Nothing special,” she replied cautiously. “Catching up on reading, perhaps.”
“What do you read?”
“History, mostly. Some economics.”
“For pleasure or professional development?”
“Both.” She turned her water glass slowly, precisely. “And what about you? Any weekend plans, Boss?”
The question surprised him. She rarely initiated personal conversation.
“Family obligations,” he answered, thinking of his mother’s continued pressure about marriage arrangements. “Unavoidable ones.”
“I see.” She didn’t press for details, returning instead to her food.
Raghav watched her as she ate—the clean line of her jaw, the careful way she handled her fork, the slight tension in her shoulders that betrayed her awareness of his gaze.
He should look away. Should return to business.
Instead, he found himself asking another question that had no place in a professional lunch.
“Do you enjoy living alone?”
Her eyes lifted to his, something like amusement flickering across her face. “Are we still discussing company security concerns?”
“Humor me.”
She considered him for a moment. “Yes, I do. I value my space.”
“Even at night?”
“Especially at night.” She set down her fork. “I find silence... clarifying.”
Her choice of words felt surprisingly personal. Clarifying. It was as if her mind needed to be organized just like his. Those quiet moments alone seemed to mean more than just rest.
“The presentation,” she said, steering them back to professional ground. “Shall we continue?”
Raghav nodded, though he’d already seen enough to approve it.
The lunch had served its purpose—not to review work that was already flawless, but to keep her here, beside him, close enough that he could catch the scent of jasmine when she moved, close enough that their arms brushed when reaching for the same document.
He found ways to keep her there—asking about slides they had already gone over, bringing up logistics that were already sorted. When she checked her watch after they had been sitting for almost ninety minutes, he acted like he hadn’t seen.
“The color palette for the final section,” he said, pointing at the screen. “It should fit our branding better.”
“I can change that,” she answered, jotting it down. “Anything else?”
Everything else, he thought, watching her fingers move across the keyboard. Questions he shouldn’t be asking. Thoughts he shouldn’t have about someone who worked directly under him.
“No.” He stood up, marking the end of their long lunch. “That will be all for now.”
Ishani packed her laptop and notes, and slipped out of his office, the door closing softly behind her.
Raghav remained standing, watching her return to her desk through the glass wall, tongue in his cheek.