White Tulips

Chapter-3

They walked to the hotel restaurant, the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the air. Neil held the door open for Isha, his hand brushing against hers as she passed by. They were shown to a quiet table by the window, the city lights twinkling outside.

As they ordered, Isha couldn't help but steal glances at Neil, his eyes fixed on the menu. The waiter returned with their drinks, and Neil raised his glass in a silent toast. Isha smiled, her heart skipping a beat, and clinked her glass against his.

The food arrived, and they dug in, the flavors and aromas filling the silence between them. Isha savored each bite, the tension between them palpable but comfortable. As they finished their meal, Neil reached for the check, his fingers brushing against hers again. Isha felt a spark of electricity, her pulse racing.

They returned to the hotel lobby, the evening air sweet with blooming flowers. "Good night, Isha," Neil said, smiling.

"Good night, Neil," she replied, her heart fluttering.

He turned to go, and she watched him disappear into the night, feeling a sense of longing. Then she headed to her room, her heart still racing.

As she drifted off to sleep, Isha felt grateful for Neil's kindness and support.
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The next morning, Isha woke up early, feeling refreshed and focused. She got ready and headed downstairs, where Neil was waiting for her in the lobby. "Good morning," he said, his eyes smiling. "Ready for your big day?"

Isha nodded, her nerves fluttering slightly. "Yeah, I'm ready. Thanks for your help, Neil. It means a lot to me."

Neil smiled. "Anytime, Isha. Let's go make it a great day."

They walked to the exhibition hall, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the city. As they approached the entrance, Neil glanced at his watch. "Well, Isha, I'll leave you here. I have some clients to meet. Good luck with your exhibition, and I'll catch up with you later."

Isha nodded, feeling a sense of excitement and nervousness about the event ahead. "Thanks, Neil. Appreciate your support. Have a great meeting."

Neil smiled briefly and turned to leave, his long strides carrying him quickly away. Isha watched him go, then took a deep breath and stepped into the exhibition hall, ready to face whatever the day might bring.

After a successful day at the exhibition, Isha returned to the hotel, exhausted but exhilarated. She changed into a comfortable dress and headed downstairs to meet Neil. As she entered the lobby, she spotted him engaged in a conversation with a group of men, likely his clients.

Neil noticed her arrival and beckoned her over.

"Isha, come join us," Neil said, his smile warm. "Gentlemen, this is Isha, the artist I was telling you about."

As she approached, Neil introduced her to the men, but Isha's attention was quickly drawn to one of them, who seemed to be sizing her up with an unsettling intensity. His gaze lingered on her, making her skin crawl.

"Nice to meet you, Isha," one of them said, his voice dripping with insincerity. "Your artwork is quite... fascinating."

Isha forced a polite smile, trying to ignore the creeping sense of unease. "Thank you. It's great to meet you all too."

As they chatted, the man's eyes never left her, and he found excuses to brush against her, his hand grazing her thigh. Isha's discomfort grew, and she tried to subtly shift away from him.

"So, Isha, what inspires your creativity?" another man asked, his tone genuinely interested.

Isha appreciated the distraction and launched into a passionate explanation of her artistic vision. But the unsettling man continued to stare, his gaze making her feel objectified and uncomfortable.

Suddenly, he attempted to touch her thigh again, and Isha's patience snapped. "Excuse me, but please keep your hands to yourself," she said firmly, her voice low but clear.

The man smirked, but Neil's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with anger. "I apologize for my client's behavior, Isha. That's completely unacceptable."

"Ah, come on, Neil," the man protested. "I was just trying to show my appreciation for her art."

Neil's face hardened, and he took a step closer to the man. "Appreciation?" he repeated, his voice low and menacing. "You're crossing boundaries, and that's not okay."

Neil grasped the man's collar, his grip firm but controlled. "Listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once," he warned, his eyes blazing with intensity. "You will respect Isha's boundaries, and keep your hands to yourself. Or you will deal with me. Do I make myself clear?"

The man smirked again, trying to downplay the situation. "It's not that big of a deal, Neil. I barely touched her."

Neil's eyes narrowed, his grip on the man's collar tightening. "That's not for you to decide. Isha, are you comfortable with what just happened?"

Isha shook her head, still feeling uneasy. "No, I'm not comfortable with it at all."

Neil's gaze returned to the man, his expression unyielding. "Then it's a big deal. And you will apologize, and respect her wishes. Or you're no longer my client."

The man's smirk faltered, and he muttered a half-hearted apology, his eyes darting to Isha and back to Neil. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Isha nodded, still shaken. "Thanks, Neil."

Neil smiled. "Let's get out of here."

Isha felt a sense of relief.

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