We are in progress

Chapter 9

I fidget uncomfortably in my seat. I think my head might as well explode with the constant staring.

I glare at Farshad. "Can you stop it?"

"Nope, you're too beautiful."

"I hate you."

Farshad chuckles as he takes a sip of hos coffee. "You know you can't do that, Zu."

I shoot him a cheeky smile. "Watch me."

He rolls his eyes, throwing a paper clip my way. I fling it away and narrow my eyes at him. "Can't you just go? I'm trying to work here."

"I told you, I need you to come to lunch with me."

"This is my office, and you're making me look like some restless idiot in front of my employees." I slam my fist on the desk, causing everyone on the other side of the glass doors to stop sauntering around and trying to get them back to work.

Damn it. I knew I should've gotten wooden doors.

"What are you not getting, Zu?" Farshad raises his perfectly thick eyebrow at me. "Do you need me to spell it down for you? Fine, I'll slow it down for you," he clears his throat and says his next words in slow motion. "I need you to come out with me for lunch."

"And, I," I point my index finger at myself, "can't come with you right now, because I have work. I've been telling you this for the past one hour, and I don't understand why you're still here." I glare at him.

"Fine. Meet me this evening?"

"I can't. I've got plans."

"Liar."

"I have plans, Farshad," I scowl at him. "And this is the last time I'm asking you to leave before I throw you out myself. Leave, everyone's distracted by your presence and I've got a publishing house to run."

"You think that's because I'm so hot?" He smirks, leaning back on the chair he's been occupying for the past hour, torturing me.

I grit my teeth in frustration. "Get. Out. Now."

"How about dinner?" He asks, not taking me seriously.

I glance at the pile of papers placed before me. Dibakar will kill me if he gets to know that I haven't even gone through this, let alone begin signing them. I contemplate on my very limited options. Farshad will never leave before he gets what he wants.

I sigh, rubbing my temple, and finally give in. "Tomorrow. Lunch."

Farshad grins before standing up and walking out of my office. "That's all I ever wanted. Love you, Zu."

I roll my eyes at his retreating figure. I really wish I could hate him, but I can't. Shaking away my thoughts, I begin going through the first document of the day.

-*-

"This is ridiculous! I feel like you guys are going on your first date all over again," Odree huffs, as she shoves all the clothes off of Amira's bed to make room for herself to sit in.

"But it is!" Amira yells from the washroom.

Amira invited us over to her apartment. Turns out, all her mean bits starting from her phone call to me at Sylhet and till now has been because she's pregnant!

I walk up towards the washroom, holding out a long bottle-green kameez, which has got a boat-neck. The front has got some daisy-like flowers imprinted in yellow.

Odree and I had bought this dress for Amira back in our school days by chipping in some money (quite a lot, by the way—two months allowance each) for her birthday. She's probably worn it twice or something since then, so it still looks neat.