This is one of the entries I had submitted for Valentine's Day contest - A bag full of love.
cover : ExoticDisaster aka Shiri | writer : missFiesty_69 | Theme : Secret Admirer
Love, Lies and a Spilled Latte
The morning rush at Brews & Bliss was a chaotic symphony of clinking cups, whirring espresso machines, and the ever-present hum of hurried conversations. Zoya Farooqui, an investigative journalist with a penchant for uncovering the truth, was too preoccupied with scanning her phone to notice the queue behind her. The barista cleared his throat pointedly. "Miss? Your order?"
Startled, Zoya shoved her phone into her bag and rattled off, "One caramel latte, extra foam. To go."
As she reached into her purse for payment, she found herself preempted by a deep, smooth voice. "Main de deta hoon."
She spun around, her curiosity piqued. There stood Asad Ahmed Khan, impeccably dressed, exuding an air of quiet confidence. He handed his card to the cashier before she could protest.
Zoya raised an eyebrow. "Mujhe apne coffee ke liye sponsor ki zaroorat nahi hai."
Asad smirked. "Yeh ek maafi hai. Pichle hafte tum mujhse takraayi thi aur dhyaan bhi nahi diya. Tumhari coffee mere report par gir gayi thi."
Zoya blinked. That was true. But her investigative instincts tingled—people rarely paid for coffee out of sheer goodwill. Itne aache log kahan ?Before she could probe further, the barista called out her name.
Asad handed her the cup with a small, folded note stuck to the sleeve. "Apni coffee ka maza lo, Zoya."
Curiosity won over decorum. She unfolded the note.
Thoda muskuraaya karo. Koi tumhara dhyaan rakh raha hai.
She frowned and looked around her as though that someone could be near her. That is creepy, she thought to herself. But before she could demand an explanation, Asad had vanished into the bustling street.
The next day, an anonymous package arrived at her office. A book—her favorite author, first edition—with another note.
Yeh tum par suit karta hai. Aise hi brilliant raho.
Her colleagues hovered, intrigued. "Secret admirer?" asked Sadia, waggling her eyebrows.
"Zyada creepy admirer lag raha hai," Zoya muttered. "It has to be a prank. Or some kind of ploy."
Her thoughts immediately drifted to Asad. Could he be behind this? But why? She barely knew him beyond their occasional run-ins at the coffee shop.
By the third mysterious gesture—her favorite dessert delivered to her desk—Zoya was officially suspicious. She marched to Brews & Bliss, knowing exactly where to find Asad. He was already there, stirring his black coffee with an infuriatingly composed expression.
"Theek hai, Mr. Mysterious," she declared, sliding into the chair opposite him. "Yeh sab ho kya raha hai?"
He looked up, bemused. "Kya matlab?"
She plopped the dessert box onto the table. "Yeh. Woh notes. Coffee. Kitab. Agar tum mujhe bribe karne ki koshish kar rahe ho, toh mere rates aur bhi zyada hain."
Asad chuckled, shaking his head. "Mujhe maaf karna, lekin main tumhara mystery admirer nahi hoon."
Zoya scrutinized him. He was annoyingly difficult to read. "Toh phir coffee kyun kharidi? Aur woh cryptic note?"
His smirk softened into something more sincere. "Bas ek tareeka tha achha kehne ka. Aur mujhe laga tumhe ek compliment ki zaroorat thi."
Zoya groaned. "Toh agar yeh tum nahi ho, toh kaun—?"
Before she could finish, her latte slipped from her grasp, splashing onto her blouse. She gasped, scrambling for napkins while Asad suppressed a laugh.
"Wah, investigative prowess toh kamaal ki hai," she muttered, dabbing furiously.
Amused, Asad handed her more napkins. "Ya phir ho sakta hai tum zyada soch rahi ho."
___
The mystery took a deeper turn that evening when Zoya received a message from an unknown number.
Tum kareeb ho, par abhi wahan tak nahi pahunche. Jaldi milenge.
Her pulse quickened. This was turning into a full-fledged creep attack. She felt herself shuddering.
The next day, Zoya entered the office determined to unmask her anonymous admirer. But her plan hit a wall when Sadia burst in, grinning. "Maine case solve kar liya!"
Zoya leaned forward. "Huh ? Sach mein ? Kya ? Kisne ? Kaun hai woh ? Batau, abhi batau sab kuch"
Ruko, ruko meri Maa, Sadia exclaimed and brandished a printed email. "Yaad hai hamara shaant-sa intern, Ayaan? Pata chala, usko tum par crush hai. Usne HR ko galti se ek email bhej diya tha jisme likha tha ki woh ‘ek khaas journalist ke liye kuch special plan kar raha hai jo sarcasm aur caffeine dono pasand karti hai.’"
Zoya groaned and smacked her head, but also a little relieved that this was not anything dangerous. "Ayaan? Par woh toh sirf ek baccha hai!"
"Ek baccha jo literature ka badha fan hai, apparently. Usne suna tha jab tum is author ke baare mein baat kar rahi thi."
Later, when Zoya gently confronted Ayaan, he turned an alarming shade of red and admitted his harmless admiration. "Bas mujhe laga tum bahut cool ho," he stammered. "Lekin samajh gaya, zyada overboard ho gaya."
Zoya sighed in relief. "Agle baar bas ‘hi’ keh dena. Itni badi gesture ki zaroorat nahi."
As she left work, she found Asad waiting outside, holding a fresh latte. He handed it to her with a knowing look. "Koi secret admirer tricks nahi. Bas socha tumhe chaiye hoga is sab ke baad."
She took a sip, smiling. "Tum mujhe shayad pasand aane lage ho, Mr. Khan."
Asad smirked. "Bas is baar girana mat."
And for once, she didn’t.
xxxxx
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