Page 69 of No Boss
She reached for her dupatta, pressing it to her eye.
“You haven’t argued in the last ten seconds,” he continued mildly. “That’s new.”
Her head snapped up. Both eyes clear now. Dangerous.
“You are insufferable.”
“And yet,” he replied, watching her, “remarkably effective.”
That did it.
She turned sharply, snatching his handkerchief, adjusting her dupatta mid-step. “I’ll return your handkerchief.”
“I’m counting on it.”
She didn’t reply, just walked away. Fast.
He watched her go.
The irritation. The awareness. The careful act of pretending neither existed.
His grin widened.
He returned to the engineer, gave his shoulder a brief pat. “Good work.”
And moved on, faintly entertained.
???
Later that day, Meera reached Abhinav’s office a few minutes early, notepad in hand, the morning still alive under her skin.
She adjusted her dupatta before knocking, more to steady herself than anything else.
“Come in.”
He was at his desk. Dark blue shirt. Sleeves rolled to his forearms. Collar open at the throat. His eyes fixed on the laptop screen.
The room felt smaller than before.
She crossed to the chair across from him and sat. Notepad open. Pen ready.
“London investors in two minutes.”
“Yes, Boss.”
His eyes lifted, moved over her once, unhurried, then returned to the screen.
She kept her gaze on her notepad.
The call connected.
He greeted them, tone measured, entirely in control.
Then he stood, and started pacing.
She hadn’t been expecting that. He always sat during calls.
Meera lowered her gaze and began writing. Key points. Numbers. Dates. Her handwriting stayed like her own until he passed behind her.
