Something About Us- MG || (Part 51|Page 52) - Page 8

Update dear 🙂 we are waiting 💞

Waiting anxiously for you to update please

Lovely parts

Geet making Maan proud and happy if his decision

Cont soon

Thanks for pm

Part 7

“Good,” he said quietly. “That’s better.”

Geet leaned back in her chair, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her hands still tingled from where his had briefly brushed hers, and her heart was racing far faster than it should have been.

“Thank you,” she said softly, looking up at him. There was no mistaking the sincerity in her voice.

Maan held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary. His lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but he hesitated. Instead, he shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Don’t thank me. Just make sure you deliver tomorrow.”

There was a flicker of something in his expression—pride, perhaps, or admiration—before he turned and walked away.

Geet watched him leave; her chest tight with emotions she couldn’t quite name. The silence of the office returned, but it felt different now, charged with the echoes of their unspoken connection.

As she turned back to her desk to pack up for the night, she found herself replaying the moment he had leaned so close, the sound of his voice and the weight of his presence lingering like a shadow.

Despite herself, a small smile tugged at her lips. Whatever this was between them, it was dangerous. It was complicated. But it was also undeniable.

______

The Morning of the Presentation

Geet arrived at the office earlier than usual, the unease from the night before clinging to her like a second skin. She had barely slept, her thoughts looping endlessly around her interaction with Maan and the task ahead. The finalized report, now neatly printed and bound, sat in her bag, but the memory of his proximity, his voice low and deliberate, lingered far longer than she wanted to admit.

The office was just beginning to stir as employees filed in, but Geet was already seated at her desk, rehearsing her explanations for potential client questions. Her fingers drummed nervously on the table, her mind racing through every possible scenario.

She straightened immediately when Maan strode into the room, flanked by Sheetal and two other senior executives. He was immaculate, his tie perfectly knotted, his gaze sharp and calculating as he discussed something with Sheetal. Despite her anxiety, Geet couldn’t help but notice the stark difference between the man from the previous night—softened by exhaustion and warmth—and the one standing before her now, every bit the commanding CEO.

Their eyes met briefly as he passed her desk. He gave no sign of acknowledgment, and she quickly looked away, her nerves intensifying.

Focus, she told herself. You have one job—to make sure this report holds up. Don’t overthink everything else.

______

The Presentation

The conference room was expansive, its glass walls offering a sweeping view of the city skyline. The client team, an intimidating group of five, sat opposite the Khurana Enterprises representatives, their expressions a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

Geet sat toward the back, out of the direct line of fire but close enough to observe. Sheetal led the presentation with practiced confidence, guiding the clients through the market analysis and proposed strategies. Maan, seated at the head of the table, interjected only occasionally, his remarks precise and cutting, as though he could dismantle any objection with a single word.

Geet’s heart leapt when Sheetal pulled up the section she had painstakingly revised the previous night. Her chest tightened as the clients began flipping through the report, their murmurs indecipherable.

“This analysis,” one of the clients said, gesturing to a chart Geet had reworked, “is much clearer than what we’ve seen from other firms. The projections feel grounded but ambitious. It’s impressive.”

A wave of relief washed over Geet, and she had to remind herself to keep her expression neutral. Sheetal accepted the praise with a polite smile, but Maan’s gaze shifted briefly, almost imperceptibly, in her direction. It lasted no longer than a second, but it was enough to make her breath hitch.

As the meeting concluded, and handshakes were exchanged, Geet stayed seated, letting the senior team take the spotlight. When the room began to clear, she collected her things quietly, determined to slip away unnoticed.

As Geet stepped into the elevator, she exhaled, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all day. Just as the doors were about to close, a hand shot through the gap, forcing them open. Maan stepped in, his presence instantly shrinking the already small space.

She stiffened, clutching her bag tightly. “Sir,” she said, her voice steady despite her pounding heart.

He leaned casually against the wall, his hands in his pockets, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. “Good work on the report.”

Geet blinked, taken off guard. “Thank you,” she said cautiously, unsure if there was a catch to the compliment.

“It held up well,” he continued, his gaze fixed on the numbers lighting up above the elevator doors. “Better than I expected.”

Her stomach twisted at the implication, but she decided to push past it. “I’m glad it met your standards,” she replied, her tone even.

Maan turned to her then, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “You’re proving you can handle it,” he said quietly, his voice low and almost... personal.

Geet’s breath caught. The air between them felt heavier in the confined space, their proximity amplifying every unspoken emotion. She could feel the weight of his words, the unspoken acknowledgment of her effort and resilience.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The elevator dinged, breaking the moment. The doors slid open, and Maan straightened, his professional mask slipping back into place. Then, with a glance that lingered just a moment too long, he added, “Don’t get comfortable,” he said, his tone back to its usual sharpness. “This was just one task. There will be more.”

Geet nodded, stepping out of the elevator. As she walked away, she couldn’t help but glance back, catching a glimpse of him watching her before the doors closed.

Geet nodded, stepping out of the elevator. As she walked away, she couldn’t resist glancing back, catching a glimpse of him watching her before the doors closed.

______

That evening, Geet sat in her small apartment, the faint hum of the city muffled by the thick glass of her window. The room was dimly lit by the glow of her laptop screen, its light reflecting off the mug of untouched coffee beside her. Her gaze was fixed on the sprawling city lights, but her thoughts were a chaotic blur, spiraling back to the day’s events.

The praise from the client replayed in her mind—a moment of validation for her relentless efforts. But it was overshadowed by something else: the elevator, the charged silence, and the intensity of Maan’s lingering gaze. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt the pull of his presence, but today had been different. His eyes hadn’t just studied her; they had seen her, as if peeling away the layers she worked so hard to maintain.

She should have felt triumphant, even relieved, that her work had earned recognition. But pride was muddled with frustration, unease, and something far more unsettling: an ache she couldn’t name. It was the way Maan’s words, always laced with sarcasm, carried an undercurrent of something deeper. The way his critiques pushed her to her limits, not out of cruelty, but out of an unspoken belief that she could rise to meet them.

Her fingers tightened around her mug, the cool ceramic grounding her. Why does he affect me like this? she wondered. Maan Singh Khurana was impossible to define—a man who could deliver cutting remarks that left her seething, only to turn around and defend her when she least expected it. He was a puzzle she didn’t have the time or energy to solve, yet she couldn’t stop trying.

She remembered the moment he had leaned over her desk, his voice low and deliberate as he guided her through the numbers. The memory of his closeness, the faint scent of his cologne, made her stomach twist. It wasn’t just attraction—though she couldn’t deny the magnetism he exuded—it was the way he seemed to slip past her defenses without effort, leaving her exposed in ways that no one else ever had.

With a frustrated sigh, Geet turned back to her laptop. The screen was filled with charts and client data, but her focus wavered. She had worked so hard to carve out a place for herself in this unforgiving corporate world, and she wasn’t about to let her thoughts drift into dangerous territory. There was no room for distractions—not now, not when she was just beginning to prove herself.

Still, the echo of his voice, the weight of his gaze, and the unspoken tension that seemed to fill the air whenever they were near lingered like an unwelcome guest. She tried to shake it off, but her mind refused to let go.

Maan Singh Khurana is dangerous, she reminded herself. Not in the way her old life had been dangerous, with its struggles and compromises, but in a way that was far more personal. He made her feel things she had spent years burying—hope, longing, and the terrifying urge to let her guard down.

But Geet couldn’t afford vulnerability. She had fought too hard to stand on her own two feet, to survive in a world that often felt stacked against her. And yet, as the hours slipped by and the city grew quieter, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Maan wasn’t just a complication. He was a mirror, reflecting parts of herself she wasn’t ready to face.

Her hands hovered over the keyboard as a thought crept into her mind: Why does he push me so hard? Is it expectation? Or something more?

The questions went unanswered as she forced herself to dive back into work, her determination doubling. Whatever this connection was—unspoken, fraught, and impossible to ignore—she couldn’t let it derail her. Not now. Not when she was finally starting to prove that she belonged.

But as the clock ticked past midnight and the reports blurred together, Geet knew one thing for certain: the more she tried to distance herself from Maan, the closer he seemed to get.

______

Later that week, Geet was working late, the soft glow of her desk lamp illuminating the stack of reports she had yet to review. The office was silent, the usual buzz of activity replaced by the faint hum of the air conditioning.

As she reached for another file, movement caught her eye. She glanced toward Maan’s office, noticing the faint light spilling from within. Curiosity pulled her to her feet, and she approached quietly, stopping just short of the glass wall.

Inside, Maan sat at his desk, his tie discarded and his sleeves rolled up. A glass of whiskey rested beside a stack of documents, his other hand raking through his hair in a rare gesture of frustration. His sharp, composed exterior was gone, replaced by a man weighed down by the invisible burdens of his world.

Geet lingered, her heart tightening at the sight. She had seen this side of him before, back when she worked in catering—those moments when he would retreat to the shadows, his exhaustion slipping through the cracks. But seeing it here, in the space where he was meant to be untouchable, felt different. It reminded her that behind his sharp intellect and biting humor was a man grappling with his own demons.

Quietly, she backed away, not wanting to intrude. But as she returned to her desk, the image of him—vulnerable, human—stayed with her.

______

Geet walked into the office one morning, coffee in hand, feeling a bit lighter than she had in weeks. The usual hum of keyboards and low murmurs greeted her, but something else was beginning to settle in—a subtle shift in how her colleagues looked at her. Gone was the wariness, the sidelong glances, the barely veiled skepticism that had followed her since her first day.

Initially, the office staff had been hesitant to approach her. Some recognized her from her earlier modeling photoshoots, minor acting roles, and ads. While no one said anything outright, she had caught whispers behind her back—snippets of comments about her past work and speculative remarks about how someone like her had landed a position at Khurana Enterprises.

“She’s probably here because she’s pretty,” one colleague had murmured during her first week. “What does she know about corporate life?”

“Do you think Mr. Khurana...?” another had trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

Geet had overheard enough to know she was walking on thin ice, and every fiber of her being had pushed her to prove them wrong.

Over the weeks, Geet poured herself into her work, her quiet determination chipping away at the skepticism around her. She showed up early, stayed late, and asked questions when she didn’t understand. She didn’t hesitate to admit when she needed help, and she was quick to acknowledge the contributions of others.

Her approachable nature began to break down barriers. Though undeniably beautiful, Geet carried herself without arrogance, her humility and willingness to learn winning over even the most guarded of her colleagues. When someone complimented her work, she deflected the praise back onto the team. When others needed assistance, she offered her help without hesitation.

It wasn’t long before the whispers began to change.

“She’s actually really sharp,” one of her teammates remarked during a lunch break. “Did you see how she handled that client’s questions last week?”

“She’s not stuck up about her looks, either,” another added. “I thought she’d be full of herself, but she’s surprisingly down-to-earth.”

As the months passed, Geet started forming genuine connections with her colleagues. Raj, a junior analyst who had once avoided her, now shared his favorite café recommendations. Meera, an HR associate, invited her to join the group for lunch. Even Sheetal, her initially aloof supervisor, began to show signs of softening, occasionally acknowledging Geet’s hard work during team meetings.

“Good work on that projection, Geet,” Sheetal said during one such meeting. “You’ve come a long way since your first report.”

“Thank you,” Geet replied with a small smile, her chest swelling with pride at the rare compliment.

Soon, Geet found herself laughing over coffee breaks, joining in on office banter, and even sharing snippets of her life with those who asked. She spoke openly about her struggles in the acting world, her journey to finding stability, and her determination to succeed in this new chapter of her life. The honesty endeared her to her peers, making them realize she was far more than the assumptions they had made.

_______

From his corner office, Maan watched the transformation unfold. He noticed how the once-guarded staff now greeted Geet with smiles, how her laughter began to fill the break room, and how her desk, once a solitary island, now buzzed with visitors.

He never commented on it, but he noticed everything—the way she navigated these relationships with the same quiet strength she brought to her work, the way she handled praise with grace, and the way her presence subtly changed the energy of the office.

Maan remained untouchable, the enigmatic CEO who moved through the office with an air of detached professionalism. But when he passed Geet’s desk or caught snippets of her conversations, there was always a flicker of something in his eyes—a glimmer of pride, perhaps, or satisfaction in seeing her carve out a place for herself.

______

One afternoon, Geet was leaving the break room when she crossed paths with Maan in the hallway. She hadn’t expected to see him, and for a moment, their eyes locked. His gaze was as intense as ever, but there was a subtle softness to it, an acknowledgment of her growing place in the office.

“Good afternoon, Sir,” she said, her tone professional but warm.

Maan nodded, his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Miss Kumar,” he replied, his voice as smooth as ever. “Seems you’re fitting in well.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she met his gaze without hesitation. “I’m trying.”

Maan’s smirk deepened, but he said nothing more, stepping aside to let her pass. As she walked away, she couldn’t help but wonder if the flicker of pride she thought she’d seen in his expression had been real.

______

With time, Geet’s presence became a natural part of the office dynamic. Her colleagues no longer saw her as the outsider with a glamorous past, but as a capable, approachable, and hardworking member of the team. She became someone they turned to for advice, someone they invited to join after-work dinners, and someone they genuinely respected.

Through it all, Maan kept his distance, observing quietly. He never interfered, never acknowledged her growing influence aloud, but he didn’t need to. Geet could feel his presence in the small moments—the fleeting glances during meetings, the subtle nods of approval, and the rare but meaningful words of encouragement he offered when they were alone.

Despite the acceptance she had earned, Geet was acutely aware of the line that separated her from Maan. He remained a paradox—aloof yet watchful, distant yet always present. The slow burn of their connection simmered beneath the surface, unacknowledged but impossible to ignore.

For now, Geet focused on her work, grateful for the friendships she had built and the progress she had made. But in the quiet moments, when the office was still and her thoughts wandered, she couldn’t help but think of the man who watched from the shadows.

________

One particularly late evening, Geet was engrossed in a client report when the sound of footsteps pulled her attention. She looked up to find Maan leaning against the doorframe, his tie hanging loose and his shirt slightly wrinkled. He carried a glass of water, but the faint scent of whiskey lingered—a reminder of his long evening with clients.

“Still here?” he asked, his voice low but tinged with amusement.

Geet smiled faintly. “So are you.”

Maan huffed a quiet laugh, stepping into the room. “Long night,” he said, his tone dry. “Networking, smiling at people who’d stab you with the same hand they just shook. Riveting, really.”

Geet chuckled softly, gesturing to the chair beside her desk, but her eyes held a kindness that softened the gesture. “You should sit.”

Maan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “You’re bossy after hours, aren’t you?”

She smiled a little, looking down, the exchange momentarily transporting her to their earlier interactions when their boundaries had blurred in ways she hadn’t fully understood.

To her astonishment, Maan complied, sinking into the chair with a sigh. As he leaned back, the lines of exhaustion on his face became more visible. Geet couldn’t help but remember the nights she had seen this side of him before—quiet, unguarded, his sharp edges softened by exhaustion.

She fetched a container of leftover dinner from her bag, placing it in front of him. “Eat,” she said firmly.

He regarded her for a moment, his expression unreadable, as though weighing the cost of accepting her care. Finally, he picked up the fork. “You bring food to work? Impressive. Most people survive on caffeine and regret.”

Geet laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t function on an empty stomach. Unlike some people.”

Maan smirked, a flicker of his usual sarcasm returning. “If I’d known you carried gourmet leftovers, I’d have fired the cafeteria staff weeks ago.”

Geet couldn’t help but smile at his dark humor, shaking her head slightly as she pushed the plate toward him. “Maan, eat,” she said softly, her tone carrying both authority and warmth.

Her use of his name, so unguarded and natural, stopped him mid-motion. It had been weeks—perhaps months—since she’d called him that. It wasn’t "Sir," or "Mr. Khurana," or the carefully detached titles everyone else used to maintain the professional barrier he insisted upon. Just Maan.

For a moment, he froze, her voice reverberating through him as if the sound itself carried weight. There was something almost magical about the way she said it—soft but steady, her sincerity cutting through the haze of his exhaustion.

His dark eyes met hers, a fleeting vulnerability crossing his face. It wasn’t just the sound of his name; it was the way she said it—without judgment, without expectation, as if she saw him not as the untouchable CEO, but as a man in need of a moment of reprieve.

Wordlessly, he sank back into the chair, picking up the fork she had offered. There was no sarcastic retort this time, no wry remark to deflect the quiet intimacy that had settled between them. He simply followed her instruction, the tension in his posture easing as he took a bite.

Geet watched him carefully, her lips quirking into a small smile. The man who commanded rooms with his brilliance and intensity, who carried the weight of a company on his shoulders, now sat across from her, eating the leftovers she had packed without a second thought. It was a strange, intimate moment, one that reminded her of the glimpses she’d seen of him during her catering days—unguarded, human, and achingly real.

They fell into a companionable silence, the quiet hum of the office their only soundtrack. For Maan, it was a rare moment of peace. The exhaustion that had clung to him all day seemed to lift slightly, replaced by the grounding presence of the woman sitting across from him.

When the meal was finished, Geet began gathering the empty container and tidying up. Maan watched her, his gaze thoughtful. He had spent years perfecting the art of keeping people at arm’s length, yet here she was, breaking through without even trying.

As they walked to the elevator together, the silence between them felt different—charged, but not uncomfortable. When the elevator doors closed, Maan turned to her, his voice low but sincere.

“Thank you,” he said simply, the weight of his words carrying far more than gratitude for the meal.

Geet looked up at him, her gaze steady and understanding. “Anytime.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, the unspoken connection between them heavy in the air. Then, Maan let out a low laugh, the glint of his usual darkness tempered by warmth. As the elevator descended, he leaned back against the wall, his thoughts swirling. The sound of his name on her lips lingered, refusing to fade.

And as Geet stepped out into the cool night air, she couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted. She didn’t know what it meant yet, but for the first time in weeks, her steps felt lighter. Whatever this was between them, it was undeniable—and it was only just beginning.

Lovely part

Maaneet’s moment 🥰🥰

Hope they talk more from now and spend time with each other

Cont soon

part 5

Such a loaded chapter. He stood up for her and she did not know. She thought he was mocking her too at the end.

What will be his challenge? Will he groom her to take on the corporate world?

part 6

Geet has done well. She proved Maan right. He knew she had the right stuff. Despite her lack of the right education and experience, she has survived.

part 7

She has proven herself with her hard work and easy going nature. The dynamics between her and Maan are shifting too.

I think it is not correct to judge the person without knowing anything about him/her and geet proved that she is indeed beautiful with brains and equally hardworking and down to earth person and maan is very proud of her

Geet proving own self

Good 👍 keep it up

Maaneet scene is simple and touching 😍🤗