Suit And Surrender

here comes the heroine,



After parking my car, I entered our modest 5-floor office building in Delhi. Despite not having towering skyscrapers, Marshal Group has contributed impressive construction projects to the city, including the renowned Crown-E-Lite Hotel, which was my first major project at Marshal's as an assistant. I poured my heart and soul into this company (figuratively, of course).

I have become Marshal Sir's favorite from the way I worked on the crown-e-elite hotel project. I just love him. He is a sweetheart.
.
.
.
No, no there is no office romance going on here.

He is a 58-year-old man who treats me like his own daughter.

"Good Morning, Karim chacha. Here's your tea—just as you like it, with a spoon of sugar and lots of milk," I handed the tea to our security guard. I quickly bonded with Karim Chacha and Sanjana Didi, the receptionist as They both always came early due to their work role.

"Hey, Sanju here is your coffee." I don’t even remember since when I started buying coffee for her, probably since we discovered our mutual love for the coffee from a truck that stands two street away from the office.
it tastes way better than Starbucks plus it's way cheaper.

Oh, don't worry.

My salary at Marshal is more than I need, in seven figures but I don't feel like wasting my money on something that I can buy at a very cheap rate.

You know, I am pure Gujarati and a businessman's daughter.
Managing money in the best possible way is in our blood.

"Hey you, stop the lift," I yelled while running towards lift.

"Good morning to you too." I heard Sanju yelling while I was closing the lift door.

I took a sip of my coffee and moaned,
A man in his late thirties gave me a weird look,
I shrugged.
Come on  a girl has all the right to enjoy her first coffee of the day and She can moan as much as she wants.

"Hey, I didn't see you Friday night." A new joinee in management, what was his name again,
Umm, Rahul... No Ravi.. Or something like that.
He was looking at me as if to hear my answer, I was confused, oh yes Friday night.
All the management team planned to go out for drinks to bond but I had to go out with my roommate cum my best friend to watch a DDLJ for the 100th time.

She is obsessed with that movie.

"I had other plans," I replied curtly.

"No issue," he said.

And the silence. Awkward silence.
the lift came to a stop, thank God.

I entered my small yet cozy office with coffee in one hand and some files in another while the tote bag was on my shoulder.
I'd spent years in a cubicle in a shared office, but a recent promotion landed me this private sanctuary. Who doesn't appreciate the perks of climbing the ladder with hard work?

Glancing at the photo frames on my desk, I touched my mom's picture just as my phone began to ring.

I looked at the screen,
शैतान का नाम लिया और शैतान हाजिर.

Kidding!
She is an angel!

"Hello, Mrs. Patel, How may I help you?"

"By calling your mother every day."

"Mrs. Patel, I have been very busy with work with my upcoming visit to Mumbai."

"You are talking with me after three days and you call me that, that. Call me Ma."

"Okay, Mari Maaa... and you can call yourself Mrs. Patel, it's not a curse. You married Papa of your own choice."
She doesn't like to call herself Mrs. Patel, because there are five Mrs. Patel in our society. Many times others mistook her as the wife of another Mr. Patel.