Sobia Rizwan is a British journalist, and this time she chose to write an article about Pakistani weddings, inspired by her cousin's wedding in the USA.
Shehzad Arshad is a confident lawyer from Lahore, who just happened to be attending the same we...
I glanced around the office in wonder. It was located on the tenth floor of a high-rise building. Most of the floor was filled with individual desks, with dividers for privacy. There were windows all around, making the office seem bright and cheerful. The walls were covered with famous quotes from well-known literature and authors. One one side was a glass wall, through which I could see a staff kitchen/dining area, and on the other side were some doors that led to unknown rooms.
I was led to one of these rooms with a plaque reading 'Editor', and I soon was introduced to Sidra Hafeez, the editor who had spoken to me on the phone.
For the 'interview', I'd chosen to wear white formal trousers, with a sleeveless white blouse, over which I wore a cream/off-white plaid jacket with a narrow pale pink belt. The scarf I wore around my neck matched the belt, and I'd paire the outfit with brown high-heel sandals and a white clutch bag that I'd bought in last year's Boxing Day sales in Oxford Street.
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"Miss Rizwan, we read your work, and the story really intrigued us." Ms Hafeez looked at me from across the desk. She was a woman in her early thirties, with a straight bob cut with blonde highlights, and chic glasses. She was dressed in black formal trousers and a short-sleeved red ruffled blouse, along with towering black stiletto court shoes. "We want more."
"More? As in more of my writing, or more of the story?" I asked.
"Both." She smiled. "We would like to publish that cute story in our Creative Writing section, and we would like you to write more one-shots like that."
"Yeah, well my work wouldn't involve smut. I was once told that people liked to read smut, and I should add it in my writing." I told her honestly.
"No, we don't expect any such thing anyway. Sweet romance is what we like." She told me. "I mean, the whole concept of the leading lady meeting the leading man in a completely different country at a wedding was so interesting to read. How did you come up with that idea?"
My cheeks turned warm. "I actually met my husband that way."
Her eyes widened in delight and surprise. "Oh, wow! That sounds awesome."
"Wait, you want to publish my work... does that mean you're offering me a job?" I asked.
She nodded. "We absolutely are. Of course, the first three months are probationary, based on you writing. As soon as you clear these three months, you will be offered a permanent position."
I tried to remain calm and composed, but I literally had to bite my lip to stop from grinning like a kid in a sweet shop.
"If you don't mind me asking, do you speak Urdu? Or even understand it?" She asked.
