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𝗔 𝗠 𝗜 𝗦 𝗛 𝗔’𝘀 𝗣 𝗢 𝗩,
I sat in front of the mirror, adjusting my white sleeveless dress. It was simple, plain, and I paired it with a delicate pearl necklace to give it a bit of elegance. Tonight, I had to attend a party at Shivaay Singh Oberoi’s place.
And that sucked. Because, of course, he just had to be Abhimanyu’s best friend.
It had only been three days since that ridiculous drama he pulled, and I still couldn’t shake it from my mind. Worse, I hadn’t seen him at the office since. He’d sworn he wouldn’t come back until he was appointed as my assistant, insisting he would only work with me. The audacity.
Yet here I was, covering for him for the last three days. Why the hell was I doing that after the way he behaved?
I couldn’t stop my mind from replaying the memory of that night.
“Haan babe, I watched that Turkish drama you suggested yesterday,” I had said over the phone, sinking into my office chair, exhaustion weighing down every word. “It was good, but today? Uff, my day was just so tiring…”
On the other end of the line, my friend, Jiya, didn’t miss a beat. “I don’t understand why you work so hard, as if the whole company belongs to you,” she said, clearly annoyed.
I gave a sad laugh, my thoughts drifting to Abhimanyu. He had a way of creeping into my mind when I least wanted him to. “I don’t have any love life, girl,” I murmured, the sadness seeping in.
“Girl, please. You could literally have any hot guy begging at your feet. But no, you want that old-fashioned, ‘hum’ and ‘aap’ type gentleman. So boring,” she replied, her voice laced with disgust.
I rolled my eyes. Yes, I liked guys who spoke with a certain old-world charm, but not some outdated version of a gentleman.
He had to know when to be gentle, and when not to. Abhimanyu embodied that balance perfectly, but damn it, I needed to stop thinking about him.
