Part 19
As Geet left the office, Priyanka’s lips curled into a sly, amused smile. She leaned back slightly on Maan’s desk, crossing her legs elegantly, her red-soled heel dangling lightly.
“What’s brunette Barbie doing here?” Priyanka sniggered, her voice carrying a hint of superiority.
Maan’s entire demeanor shifted instantly, his previously relaxed expression hardening into a cold, dangerous glare. He turned his head slowly toward Priyanka, his jaw tightening.
“Excuse me?” he said sharply, his tone low and distinctly unamused.
Priyanka’s confident smirk faltered, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in his gaze. She straightened her posture, quickly adopting a more neutral expression. “I was just joking,” she said, forcing a light laugh. “I meant it as a compliment. She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
Maan didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still narrowed, as if measuring her intentions. The air around them grew tense, and Priyanka felt a subtle prickle of discomfort under his scrutiny.
When he finally spoke, his voice was dry and pointed, dripping with a subtle sarcasm that left no room for argument. “I didn’t realize you were hired to comment on my team’s appearance. Focus on your own tasks, Priyanka.”
Priyanka’s cheeks flushed faintly, and she let out a small, awkward laugh, trying to brush off the tension. “Of course,” she said, masking her irritation with a forced smile. “I was just being friendly.”
Maan didn’t reply, his attention already shifting back to his laptop, dismissing her with his silence. Priyanka bit the inside of her cheek, trying to suppress the embarrassment creeping over her.
Taking the hint, she adjusted her posture and moved to the other side of the desk, pretending to busy herself with organizing some files. Yet, she couldn’t help but steal a glance at Maan’s still slightly annoyed profile, realizing that her attempt at humor had backfired completely.
Meanwhile, Maan’s mind briefly wandered back to Geet, recalling the way her face had fallen when Priyanka corrected her earlier. A subtle frown lingered on his face, and he shook his head slightly, pushing away the unsettling feeling that he might have hurt her without even realizing it.
+++
Geet returned to her desk, her heart heavy and her mind swirling with thoughts. As she sat down, she couldn’t help but replay the awkward interaction in Maan’s office.
Priyanka ma’am... of course she’s Priyanka ma’am... and he’s Maan sir... The realization settled heavily on her chest. Both Ivy League graduates, both from rich, high-class families...
She let out a small, resigned sigh, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on her notepad. Maybe their families go on bougie Europe trips together, sipping champagne and discussing business mergers. Sir and ma’am—perfectly matched. Both made for each other.
Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought. The more she dwelled on it, the more ridiculous her own presence seemed in comparison. And here I am—forever struggling. Penniless. Credential-less. Uneducated by their standards.
She looked down at her plain, practical outfit, feeling smaller and more inadequate with every passing second. My family... well... we run a tiny sweet shop in a two-tier city in UP. I spent my childhood carrying trays of jalebis and laddoos, serving customers while studying by the counter. And they... they grew up with elite educations, posh accents, and family connections.
A bitter chuckle escaped her lips, but it wasn’t filled with humor—only quiet resignation. How did I ever think I could be a part of his world? How did I even let myself hope for a second that Maan would ever...
She rubbed her temple, fighting the building headache and the persistent ache in her heart. It wasn’t just about Maan anymore—it was about the vast chasm between who she was and who he was. Their worlds didn’t just differ; they were worlds apart, parallel lines never meant to meet.
Geet swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to focus on her work. Focus, Geet. You’ve come this far. You’ve fought for this position. You belong here because you’ve earned it—not because of some fancy degree or family wealth.
She repeated those words to herself like a mantra, but deep down, the lingering doubt gnawed at her resolve. Maybe they belong together... and I’ll always just be the girl from the sweet shop.
+++
As the day drew to a close, Geet packed her things quietly, trying to ignore the ache that had been simmering in her chest all day. She glanced over toward Maan’s cabin one last time before leaving, catching a glimpse of him and Priyanka still inside, engaged in what appeared to be a light-hearted conversation. Priyanka’s laughter rang out again, bright and unrestrained, while Maan leaned back, appearing relaxed and even... amused.
Geet couldn’t help but sigh softly, forcing herself to look away. They look good together, she thought bitterly. Effortless. Comfortable. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she turned and walked out of the office, the weight of the day pressing down on her.
Outside, the cool evening breeze hit her face, but it did little to ease the tightness in her chest. Maybe it’s for the best, she tried convincing herself. They belong to the same world, after all.
+++.
Inside Maan’s office, Priyanka leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, her smile never faltering.
“You know,” she said, her voice casual yet intentional, “it’s my first week here. I should probably get a feel of the place outside of work too. How about drinks tonight? Just a little celebration.”
Maan considered her suggestion for a moment, noticing the eager glint in her eyes. “Sure,” he replied nonchalantly, glancing at the time. “Sounds good.”
Priyanka’s smile widened, pleased. “Perfect! There’s a new bar down the street. Let’s check it out.”
A little later, Maan and Priyanka found themselves at a sleek, upscale bar, its ambient lighting casting a warm glow over polished wood and elegant decor. The hum of low conversation surrounded them as they sat at the bar counter. Priyanka ordered a cocktail, while Maan opted for his usual whiskey.
As the bartender prepared their drinks, Priyanka turned toward Maan, her posture relaxed yet confident. “You know,” she began smoothly, “I’ve been looking into the credentials of the employees. Trying to understand their backgrounds and skill sets. It’s interesting how diverse the talent pool here is.”
Maan raised an eyebrow, curious. “Diverse how?”
“Well,” Priyanka continued, casually swirling the straw in her drink, “a lot of employees are in roles that don’t exactly match their skills or potential. I thought it might be beneficial to do a little reshuffling—put people in departments that align better with their interests and abilities. It would increase efficiency, don’t you think?”
Maan took a sip of his drink, nodding thoughtfully. “It makes sense. Placing people where they’re most suited would boost productivity.”
Priyanka smiled brightly, pleased by his agreement. “Exactly. Since I did a course on organizational psychology at Ivy League, I thought I could implement some of those principles here. Just to streamline things. You know, making sure everyone’s in the right position based on their caliber.”
Maan gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, though his expression remained neutral. “As long as it’s done fairly and with consideration. Some people might take time to adjust.”
“Of course,” Priyanka said smoothly, taking a delicate sip of her cocktail. “I’ll make sure to be tactful about it. Just want to make sure we’re maximizing potential, you know?”
Maan didn’t say much more, his attention briefly shifting as his phone vibrated with a new notification. Priyanka, however, kept the conversation light, subtly inserting more anecdotes from her Ivy League experiences, clearly enjoying sharing her background.
Though Maan remained polite, his thoughts briefly wandered back to Geet—how she would have responded to such a conversation, likely with quiet insight or a subtle contradiction just to challenge him. A hint of a frown crossed his face, but he pushed the thought aside, returning his attention to Priyanka’s smooth conversation.
The bar was buzzing softly, the ambient music weaving seamlessly into the low conversations around them. Maan leaned back against the bar counter, his whiskey glass in hand, swirling the amber liquid absentmindedly. Priyanka had excused herself to the restroom, leaving him alone at the bar.
His mind, however, wasn’t on the sophisticated atmosphere or the drink in his hand—it was on Geet. Her quiet presence lingered at the back of his thoughts, the way she had looked at him in the elevator earlier, cautious and unsure. And then how she had walked out without giving him a chance to say more.
Maan huffed out a quiet breath, frustrated with himself. Why did I let her just walk away?
His fingers drummed lightly against his phone on the counter. Alcohol buzzed faintly through his veins, and before he could overthink it, he picked up his phone and unlocked it.
Scrolling through his contacts, he stopped at her name: Geet. Without thinking twice, he shot her a quick text.
He stared at the message, wondering if it seemed abrupt or strange. Just then, his phone vibrated almost immediately.
He couldn’t help but smile faintly at her quick reply. He hesitated, unsure what to say next. Just as he started typing, another message came through.
Maan frowned at her formal tone. Work? Why does she always assume it’s about work?
He sighed, rubbing his thumb over the screen as if trying to figure out how to express what he really wanted to say. He wanted to ask how she was—if she was okay. But the words just wouldn’t come.
His phone vibrated again.
Maan raised an eyebrow, wondering why she’d ask that. His first thought was that maybe she wanted to call him, and didn’t want anyone else overhearing.
He waited for a response, but none came. He frowned at the screen, unsure why she had suddenly gone silent.
+++
Meanwhile, Geet sat on her small bed, staring at her phone, heart pounding as she read his message. Priyanka. The word felt like a punch to the gut. She swallowed hard, the dull ache spreading through her chest.
Of course he’s with her. Why wouldn’t he be? They probably went out for drinks, like normal colleagues—no, like people who belong to the same world. While I...
She forced herself to take a deep breath, but it didn’t help the tightness in her throat. Stop it, Geet. You knew this would happen. You knew they’d be perfect together. Why does it hurt so much?
She couldn’t bring herself to text him back. What was she supposed to say anyway? Have fun? Enjoy your night with your new, perfect secretary?
She put her phone down, trying to suppress the hurt welling up inside her. She wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t care—who didn’t let something like this break her resolve. But Maan texting her out of the blue—only to reveal he was with Priyanka—had cut deeper than she wanted to admit.
+++
Back at the bar, Maan stared at his phone, waiting for her reply. He frowned, checking his screen again, but no new message appeared. He felt an inexplicable pang of irritation mixed with worry.
Just then, Priyanka returned, sliding smoothly back onto the barstool, her smile bright as ever. “Sorry, took a bit long,” she chimed, picking up her drink again.
Maan barely nodded, still distracted, but quickly slipped his phone into his pocket, hiding his frustration. He took another sip of his whiskey, forcing himself to pay attention as Priyanka resumed her conversation, unaware of the tension flickering in his mind.
Despite Priyanka’s chatter, Maan’s thoughts remained tangled around Geet—why had she asked if he was with someone? And why had she gone silent afterward?
+++
The next few days at the office felt like a slow, relentless grind for Geet. Every time she gathered enough resolve to focus on her work, Priyanka’s presence seemed to intrude—loud, confident, and always far too close to Maan.
Geet couldn’t help but notice how often Priyanka was in Maan’s cabin—always discussing business strategies, giving her opinion on departmental changes, or simply chatting about some business news. Priyanka’s voice carried easily through the partially open door, her laughter bright and musical, mingling with Maan’s occasional low responses.
The more Geet noticed, the harder it became to ignore the way Priyanka leaned over Maan’s desk while pointing out something on his laptop screen—her curls lightly brushing against his shoulder. Sometimes, during meetings, Priyanka would take the seat closest to Maan, subtly shifting so that her arm brushed his, her hair tickling his shoulder when she leaned forward.
Geet tried to convince herself that it wasn’t intentional, but there was something too calculated in the way Priyanka moved—how she always managed to position herself just close enough to make it seem intimate without being overtly inappropriate.
During one particularly tense meeting, Geet sat across from Maan and Priyanka. As Priyanka gestured animatedly, her hand brushed over Maan’s forearm, and at one point, her chest grazed his wrist when she reached for the folder in front of him. Maan barely seemed to notice, focused on the presentation, but Geet’s stomach twisted painfully at the sight.
Geet bit her lip, forcing her attention back to her notes. It’s just business, she reminded herself. They’re discussing work, not flirting. It’s all in my head.
But even convincing herself didn’t make it hurt any less. The more Priyanka embedded herself into Maan’s professional space, the more Geet felt herself shrinking—like her presence was becoming increasingly irrelevant.
After the meeting ended, Geet gathered her documents quickly, avoiding looking in their direction as Priyanka stayed behind to discuss some follow-up points with Maan.
She made her way back to her desk, determined to keep her mind on the work ahead, but Priyanka’s words from the meeting echoed cruelly in her mind—how Priyanka had effortlessly taken the lead, confidently presenting ideas while Maan nodded approvingly.
They’re perfect together, Geet thought, feeling her heart sink further. Same background, same intellect, same confidence.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Meera approaching until her friend tapped her shoulder gently.
“Hey, you okay?” Meera asked, concern evident in her eyes.
Geet forced a smile, trying not to let her emotions slip. “Yeah, just... busy with work.”
Meera glanced over at Maan’s cabin, where Priyanka was still animatedly discussing something with him. “She sure knows how to stay close, doesn’t she?” Meera remarked, her tone light but her expression slightly skeptical.
Geet managed a weak smile. “She’s just... good at her job. Knows how to be... involved.”
Meera gave her a sympathetic look. “You know, it’s not just you who notices. A few of us were talking, and it’s kind of weird how she’s always in his space. I mean, she’s confident, sure—but it almost feels like she’s marking territory.”
Geet’s eyes widened slightly, surprised that others had noticed too. “Really? You think so?”
“Yeah. Kavya mentioned it yesterday. It’s just... odd. Maan’s not usually the type to let anyone be that familiar. He usually keeps his space. But Priyanka...” Meera trailed off, biting her lip.
Geet looked down at her hands, fiddling with her pen. If even Maan’s closest colleagues are noticing, maybe it’s not just me overthinking.
Still, it didn’t make the ache go away. Whether intentional or not, Priyanka’s proximity to Maan felt like an unspoken statement—one that kept pushing Geet further into the background.
+++
Back in his cabin, Maan was only half-listening as Priyanka continued discussing team realignment. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off—like he was missing something important.
Priyanka leaned forward to point out a report on his laptop, and he vaguely registered her curls brushing his shoulder. He shifted slightly, pulling back, but Priyanka didn’t seem to notice.
When she finished her point, Maan simply nodded, barely responding. Priyanka paused, noticing his distracted state.
“Are you okay?” she asked, feigning concern while adjusting her posture to face him directly.
Maan looked at her, slightly irritated without knowing why. “Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind.”
She smiled, resting her hand lightly on his desk. “Well, you’re the boss. You can delegate more, you know. No need to stress yourself out.”
Maan gave a vague hum of acknowledgment but didn’t respond further. Priyanka’s presence, instead of feeling like support, was starting to feel a bit suffocating. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but every time she leaned closer or brushed against him, a wave of discomfort prickled down his spine.
His thoughts wandered to Geet—how she’d barely looked at him during the meeting, how quiet she’d been compared to her usual self. A flicker of concern crept in, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done something wrong.
Just then, Priyanka’s phone rang, and she excused herself from the cabin. The moment she was gone, Maan let out a quiet sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his forehead, his thoughts a chaotic mess.
Why did Geet seem so distant? Why did it feel like she was slipping away, and why did it bother him so much?
His phone buzzed on the table, and he quickly glanced at it, hoping it was a message from Geet. But it was just another work notification. Frustrated, he tossed the phone back on the desk, his jaw clenched.
Somehow, amid Priyanka’s relentless presence and the endless work pressure, Maan couldn’t shake the growing anxiety that something important was slipping through his fingers—and that it had everything to do with Geet.
++++
The next morning, Geet arrived at the office with a renewed sense of determination. She had spent countless late nights perfecting her project presentation, meticulously cross-checking data, and ensuring her strategy was comprehensive and client-focused. This project was her baby—she had poured her heart and soul into it for months. Today was the day she would finally present it to Maan.
She set up her laptop in the conference room, her heart pounding with both nerves and excitement. A few colleagues filed in, offering her encouraging smiles. Geet nodded back, forcing herself to stay composed.
Just as she was about to begin, Priyanka walked in, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, exuding an air of effortless confidence. Maan followed a moment later, giving Geet a brief nod before taking his seat at the head of the table.
Geet took a deep breath. "Good morning, everyone. Today, I'll be presenting the new client engagement strategy. I’ve compiled data from the past three quarters to predict market behavior and optimize client retention."
She started her presentation, her voice steady and professional, highlighting the innovative strategies she had developed. The data visuals on the screen were clear, concise, and well-organized.
But barely a few slides in, Priyanka interrupted, her tone casual yet condescending. “Actually, I noticed some gaps in the client engagement metrics. Have you considered using behavioral segmentation instead of traditional demographic analysis?”
Geet paused, slightly taken aback. Behavioral segmentation? That didn’t align with the specific client data they had. Still, she remained calm. “Behavioral segmentation is typically useful in consumer analysis, but this project focuses on B2B interactions, where demographic insights are more relevant. I’ve aligned this approach with the specific feedback from our top clients.”
Priyanka chuckled lightly, a hint of disdain creeping into her expression. “Sure, but that’s a bit outdated, isn’t it? During my Ivy League psychology course, we learned that dynamic consumer behavior analysis is more forward-thinking. Maybe your approach could use some modernization.”
Geet’s jaw tightened, but she stayed focused. “This project is based on extensive client feedback and industry-specific data. The strategy prioritizes maintaining existing client relationships rather than shifting to consumer behavior models, which wouldn’t be relevant for our B2B clientele.”
Priyanka raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting Geet to push back. “Direct feedback isn’t always reliable, you know. Especially when the person interpreting it doesn’t have formal training in data analytics. Sometimes practical experience doesn’t quite measure up.”
Geet didn’t rise to the bait, keeping her tone professional. “The data for this project was gathered through structured client interviews, combined with industry trend analysis. B2B client engagement metrics differ significantly from consumer engagement, which is why demographic-based strategies were prioritized. Adjusting the approach to behavioral models would risk alignment with the clients’ current operational structures.”
Priyanka’s lips thinned slightly, and she leaned back, crossing her arms. “I just think that sticking rigidly to conventional methods shows a lack of innovative thinking. Sometimes when people come from unconventional backgrounds—like modeling or acting—they might not grasp the full complexity of corporate strategy.”
Geet remained unfazed, keeping her focus on the project. “The chosen approach isn’t about convention; it’s about relevance to the client’s business model. The data supports this strategy, and deviating from it would reduce accuracy and risk client satisfaction.”
Priyanka scoffed lightly, as if trying to mask her irritation. “Sometimes, people without a solid corporate education don’t understand the nuances of strategy implementation. I’m just offering insights from a more structured academic perspective.”
Geet stayed calm, her voice unwavering. “The strategy has been aligned with the client’s expectations and the company’s performance metrics. The priority here is to build on our existing relationships rather than risk abrupt changes.”
The tension in the room was palpable, and Maan’s calm but authoritative voice cut through it. “Priyanka.”
Both women turned to him, and Geet felt a surge of relief at the firm tone in his voice.
Maan’s gaze was cold and unwavering as he looked at Priyanka. “This project is something Geet has been working on for months. She knows the client base and the data better than anyone here. It’s not your department, and it’s not your place to question the methodology she has developed. Constructive feedback is always welcome, but undermining someone’s work without understanding the project context is unprofessional.”
Priyanka faltered, clearly not expecting such a direct reprimand. She forced a tight smile. “I wasn’t trying to undermine her. I was just offering insights.”
Maan’s expression didn’t soften. “Offering insights is valuable when relevant. This project was assigned to Geet because of her consistent performance in client engagement. I expect everyone to respect the work that’s been put into it.”
Priyanka hesitated, clearly thrown off balance, but then she gave a small, forced laugh. “Oh, sorry... my bad. The client seems to like her a lot, it seems,” she said with a sly smirk, her tone insinuating something inappropriate between the client and Geet. Her words carried an undercurrent of disdain, implying that Geet’s past as a model and actress made her more likely to use unconventional means to gain favor.
Geet froze, her fingers tightening on the remote, a pang of humiliation shooting through her. For a second, her composure faltered, but she quickly regained it, refusing to let Priyanka see her break.
Maan’s gaze hardened, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Enough,” he said sharply, his tone brooking no argument. The room fell utterly silent. “Priyanka, your unsolicited advice is noted. Next time, wait until it’s asked for. We are here to discuss Geet’s project—not to make baseless insinuations or question someone’s professional integrity. Keep your comments relevant or don’t make them at all.”
Priyanka swallowed, her face flushing slightly as she forced a pleasant smile. “Of course. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Maan turned his attention back to Geet, his tone softening. “Geet, continue.”
Geet took a steadying breath, forcing herself to push past the sting of Priyanka’s words. She continued with the presentation, her voice unwavering despite the rush of emotions. She maintained her professionalism, finishing her report with clear data and conclusive strategies.
As she wrapped up, Maan gave her an approving nod. “Good work, Geet. Your analysis is thorough and client-centric. We’ll move forward with your proposal.”
A wave of relief washed over Geet, and she gave a small, respectful nod. “Thank you.” She couldn’t help the soft smile that broke through her professional demeanor at his appreciation.
Maan’s eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary, and a fleeting, almost sneaked smile curved his lips when he saw her smile. It was brief, subtle, but it made Geet’s heart flutter unexpectedly.
As the meeting concluded, Priyanka lingered at the back, clearly simmering in silent frustration. Geet walked out with her head held high, though the tension left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Back at her desk, Geet couldn’t help but feel a mix of satisfaction and apprehension. Maan had defended her—clearly, firmly, and without hesitation. But Priyanka’s glare as they left the conference room was enough to tell Geet that this wasn’t over.
Despite that, Geet couldn’t help but feel a small surge of pride. He stood up for my work, she thought, allowing herself a rare, fleeting smile.
Cricket
Udne Ki Aasha
Veer Hanuman
Anupamaa
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