37. Le Mirador
Aarvi got ready for the treat, slipping into a pink floral top with flared sleeves paired with light blue jeans — simple, soft, and warm, just like her. She took one last glance in the mirror, muttering, “It’s just a treat.” before heading downstairs.
But as her eyes scanned the living room and didn’t spot him, a big, relieved smile broke across her face.
“Has he gone to the office?” she asked, trying hard to hide her excitement behind that innocent tone.
Pragya looked up, a knowing smile curling her lips. “No, he’s outside. Waiting for you.”
Aarvi’s smile instantly faded. “Oh…” she mumbled, shoulders slumping as she turned toward the door, her feet dragging dramatically. Vinod chuckled softly, watching her retreating figure. “Poor girl,” he murmured, amused.
Stepping out, Aarvi spotted him immediately — Vivan Singhania, standing against his sleek black car, phone in hand, exuding that calm, effortless authority he carried everywhere.
His outfit was as sharp as his personality — a black ribbed polo shirt tucked into tailored trousers, matched with a silver watch that gleamed in the sun.
For a second, she forgot to move. The way the car’s glossy black surface reflected him almost made it look like the two were one — powerful, composed, intimidating.
She glanced down at her own floral top and denim, then at him again. “How much contrast our choices have… just opposite,” she thought, lips curling into a faint smile.
“But opposite attracts, ain’t it?”
Her heart skipped a beat the moment that thought crossed her mind. Her eyes widened slightly — what am I even thinking? She shook her head quickly, mentally scolding herself, and straightened her shoulders before walking toward him, pretending confidence she didn’t quite feel.
Aarvi walked up to him, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s go,” she said, trying to sound casual.
Vivan lifted his gaze from his phone — first at her voice, then at her. His eyes lingered for a moment longer than he intended, taking in the pink floral top and the soft way it moved with the breeze. Aarvi, catching his look, quickly moved around the car toward the passenger seat.
“Wait,” he said, his tone calm but commanding. She stopped, turning to him with a questioning look, only to find him walking toward her with that faint, teasing smirk tugging at his lips.
“You’re giving me a treat,” he said, stopping right in front of her, “so you should be the one to drive.”
Aarvi blinked, taken aback. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Her brows furrowed. “You’re giving me treat so you must be the one to drive,” she mimicked him mockingly. “Does that even make sense?”
“For me, it does,” he replied coolly, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Or… wait—” his eyes glinted mischievously, “don’t tell me you don’t know how to drive?”
Her jaw dropped slightly — that tone. That challenge. Her ego flared instantly.
“Of course I know!” she snapped, snatching the keys from his hand. “I’ll drive.”
He stepped aside with a faint chuckle. “Good girl.”
Once they settled inside the car, the silence lasted only a few seconds before Vivan casually said, “By the way, your outfit isn’t good.”
The words hit her like a dart. She turned sharply toward him, glaring. “Excuse me? You know what, I don’t need your—”
“Calm down, Aarvi,” he interrupted, leaning slightly toward her. His voice dropped, smooth and teasing. “You didn’t let me finish.”
Her frown lingered, but curiosity flickered in her eyes. He looked right into them, his tone softening. “I was saying… it doesn’t look good.” He paused, gaze deepening. “It looks beautiful on you.”
Time stilled. The air between them thickened — that unspoken pull surfacing again. Her heart skipped, his stare unwavering, intense yet unreadable. For a few seconds, neither spoke — just the sound of their breaths filling the car.
And then, as if both realized it at once, they looked away.
Aarvi’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She didn’t want that feeling again — that same electricity that had rushed through her veins the last time, when he’d leaned too close in the office and stopped just in time.
She started the car abruptly, mumbling under her breath, “You’re impossible.”
Vivan smirked faintly, looking out the window. “You just realized that?”
Then the silence fell in the car. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just… alive.
After a few minutes of driving, Aarvi couldn’t take it anymore. “You know,” she said, eyes fixed on the road, “you should warn people before saying such things.”
Vivan raised an eyebrow, not looking up. “Such things?”
Her lips twitched. “You know exactly what I mean.”
He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Oh, you mean compliments? I’m sorry—next time I’ll file a formal notice before calling you beautiful.”
Her jaw clenched as she muttered, “Unbelievable.”
He chuckled, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “You talk too much when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Of course you’re not,” he said, that teasing tone making her want to throw the steering wheel at him.
Aarvi shot him a glare, but the moment she looked at him, he smirked — that annoyingly confident smirk that somehow made her heartbeat skip again. She looked away immediately, muttering something under her breath.
Vivan leaned back, clearly amused. “You’re fun to tease, Mrs. Singhania.”
She almost hit the brakes. “Don’t call me that.”
“What, Mrs. Singhania?”
Her ears turned red. “Yes.”
He grinned, eyes still on the road ahead. “Then stop reacting every time I do.”
Aarvi exhaled sharply. “I swear, you’re impossible.”
Vivan looked sideways at her, his smile softening just a bit. “And yet,” he said quietly, “you’re still here, driving me to lunch.”
That one sentence — so simple, so casual — made something flutter in her chest before she could stop it. She looked out the window, biting back a smile.
And for a few moments, neither said a word. The car hummed softly.
Aarvi steadied her focus on the road, trying to ignore the lingering warmth his words had left behind.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Vivan unlocking his phone again — his expression calm, almost blank. But the faint tension in his jaw said otherwise.
He scrolled through the screen, eyes searching for something that wasn’t there. A quiet sigh escaped his lips before he locked it again, tossing the phone aside like it didn’t matter — though it clearly did.
His gaze turned to the window, but there was that flicker in his eyes — that quiet ache of someone who didn’t expect much, yet still hoped for something.
The silence between them grew heavier — not uncomfortable, just… unspoken.
Aarvi was about to take a turn when his low voice broke the stillness.
“That’s not the right way,” he said.
“I know it is,” she replied, not looking at him.
He leaned slightly closer, his tone firm but calm. “Yes, I know that’s the right way. But we aren’t going there.”
Aarvi frowned, glancing at him briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “What do you mean? Then where are we going?”
“The treat’s for me,” he said, a teasing edge in his voice. “So I’ll decide the place.”
Aarvi exhaled, shaking her head slightly. the corners of her lips twitched.
Vivan looked at her, the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth — the kind that hid more than it revealed.
And as she turned the car in the direction he pointed, he looked out the window again — eyes distant, expression unreadable.
Aarvi slowed the car as they neared the destination, her brows knitting in confusion when the tall glass facade of the building shimmered under the sunlight. The massive golden sign above the entrance gleamed — "Le Mirador" — one of the most luxurious restaurants in the country.
Her jaw slightly dropped. The marble driveway was lined with sleek luxury cars, and even the valet wore crisp black suits with gold pins on their collars. Chandeliers glittered through the tinted glass walls, and a violin tune floated faintly from inside.
“This…” Aarvi blinked, her voice catching halfway. “Vivan, this can’t be—”
He was already unbuckling his seatbelt, stepping out casually like he owned the place. “We’re here.”
Aarvi gaped at him through the windshield.
“Here? This restaurant?” She got out hurriedly, looking around once again — the polished floors, the red carpet leading to the door, the faint scent of roses in the air.
“Do they even allow normal people here? Like— do I have to sell a kidney to pay the bill?”
Vivan shot her a sideways glance, lips twitching with amusement. “You talk too much. Come on.”
“No, listen!” she whispered urgently, clutching her purse as if it could save her life. “This place looks… expensive. What if they charge for water too?”
Ignoring her protests, he slipped his hand lightly around her wrist and started walking toward the entrance.
“Vivan—wait! We can go somewhere simpler—like normal people—” she whispered-shouted, digging her heels slightly into the marble floor.
“Normal?” He glanced at her, smirk faintly returning. “You’re married to a Singhania, Mrs. Aarvi. You’ve lost that privilege.”
Before she could argue, the glass doors opened automatically, and they stepped inside.
Golden light washed over the grand lobby — the air cool, the scent expensive, the sound of soft jazz humming in the background. A hostess greeted them with a graceful smile, “Good afternoon, Mr. Singhania.”
Aarvi turned sharply toward him, whispering, “You come here often?”
Vivan just smirked and said to the hostess, “A table for two.”
Aarvi sighed under her breath, clutching her purse tighter. “I’m definitely going to need that kidney.”
The hostess gestured with a polite smile, “This way, please.”
They followed her through the elegant restaurant, soft music weaving through the clink of glass and quiet laughter. The floor gleamed under the golden lights, and the scent of lilies floated in the air.
Vivan’s hand was still wrapped firmly around Aarvi’s — not too tight, just enough to make her heart stutter. It was almost unconscious, as if he didn’t even realize what he was doing. But she did. Every second of it.
She glanced at their joined hands, the way his thumb brushed lightly against her skin when he adjusted his grip. Something fluttered in her stomach — warmth and confusion tangled together. His smile. His teasing. His touch… Why did everything about him make her heartbeat quicken today?
The hostess stopped near a corner table overlooking the city skyline. “Your table, Mr. Singhania.”
They both sat down. Aarvi, still slightly dazed, picked up the menu — only for Vivan to snatch it right from her hand.
“Hey!” she frowned, her tone a mix of surprise and mock offense. “What was that for?”
He leaned back with that effortless calm of his, flipping through the menu. “The treat’s for me,” he said simply, not even glancing up. “So, I’ll order.”
Her jaw dropped a little. “Excuse me? That’s not how a treat works!”
Vivan finally looked up, amusement flickering in his eyes. “It does when you’re the one paying.”
Aarvi sighed, placing her elbows on the table, her voice dropping to a soft plea. “Vivan, please,” she said, her tone almost childlike. “Order something affordable, hmm?”
He gave a nonchalant nod — one that didn’t reassure her at all — and went back to scanning the menu.
She narrowed her eyes at him, muttering under her breath, “You’re doing this on purpose.”
He didn’t respond, just hid a smirk behind the menu.
And she knew that smirk. She knew something's going inside his mind. And that's obviously not good for her. Atleast not now.