Part 58
The phone rang at 9:43 PM.
Maan was still seated at the edge of the bed, fingers tapping his smartwatch screen, gaze occasionally drifting toward the glass of water on Geet’s side table — the one she hadn’t touched after their almost-kiss was interrupted.
He saw the caller ID flash across his private line.
Sheetal D. — Senior Project Manager.
He picked it up in the second ring.
“Sir,” came the calm, practiced voice of a woman who knew how to handle fund closures, pitch decks, and mid-trimester backaches without blinking. “Good evening. I hope this isn’t too late—”
“You’re on the emergency override list,” Maan said. “You can call anytime. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing wrong,” she said quickly. “It’s about Geet.”
His spine straightened.
“She’s recovering well,” he said. “Her vitals are stable, physio’s started, the medications are on time—”
“I know, sir,” Sheetal interjected gently. “We’re... all really glad. Actually—sir, the team was hoping we could visit her. Just briefly. Not in a way that tires her out. A small visit. Maybe tomorrow evening? If that’s okay with you.”
There was a pause on the line.
Then Maan’s voice came, low and even.
“You want to visit her where?”
“Well,” Sheetal said carefully, “We assumed she’s been discharged and recovering somewhere close... maybe at her family’s, or... we just weren’t sure where—”
“She’s in my home.”
Silence.
Then a single blink from Sheetal’s end.
“I see.”
Maan continued, tone clipped but not impolite. “The building is Athena Heights, near Worli Sea Face. Top floor. There’s a private elevator on the right of the main lobby. The name at the entrance is blank — just tell security you’re here for me.”
“I—yes, Sir. I’ll inform the team.”
“Tomorrow. 4 PM. No more than 30 minutes.”
“Understood, Sir.”
He ended the call.
Elsewhere: The Group Chat
Office Work Besties 💼🌸💻
(a name Sheetal hated but never changed)
Kavya:
GUESS WHERE GEET IS STAYING
Nisha:
Please tell me this is what I think it is
Meera:
Wait. Sheetal mam you called right? WHAT DID HE SAY??
Sheetal:
She’s staying with him. At his home.
Kavya:
I KNEW ITTTTTTTTTTT
Nisha:
HOLY MOTHER OF DRAAMA
Raj:
What do you mean “his home”? Like…a guest room?
Sheetal:
He didn’t say guest room. He said “my home.”
Meera:
That’s CEO-speak for “MY PENTHOUSE WITH A VIEW THAT CAN SEE GOD.”
Kavya:
He gave the address. Athena Heights.
Nisha:
ATHENA HEIGHTS?!?!
That building has glass elevators and valet robots.
Raj:
One coffee there costs my rent.
Kavya:
Forget coffee. Focus. She’s. In. His. HOME.
Nisha:
Does this mean they’re… together-together?
Meera:
They were already orbiting like Saturn and a very confused moon.
Raj:
So Geet was our chhupi rustam all along huh? Silent type with the boss??
Sheetal:
Show some respect. Also yes.
Nisha:
She was literally dying in a hospital bed and this man changed her IV meds personally.
Kavya:
And now she’s in his BEDROOM probably eating organic soup from a spoon he stirred.
Meera:
I'm calling it now. They're in love. And not just office crush love. Like soulmate “I'll rewrite your destiny” love.
Nisha:
I am bringing chocolate. We need sugar for this drama.
Sheetal:
4 PM. Be on time. And behave.
Raj:
Define “behave.”
Sheetal:
If Maan Khurana kills you with his eyes, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Meera:
He’s going to walk in and we’ll all forget our names.
Kavya:
Not me. I’ll be busy looking for signs of coupledom. Matching slippers. Shared mugs. Pillow dents.
Raj:
My money’s on toothbrushes.
Nisha:
My money’s on vibes. The vibe is thick.
Sheetal:
Enough. Everyone bring something nice. Flowers, fruit, dignity.
Kavya:
So no calling Geet Mrs. Khurana yet?
Sheetal:
Try it and I’ll send your bonus into a blackhole.
+++
Maan placed the tray back on the sideboard.
Geet was half-curled into the pillows, scrolling aimlessly on the television remote, one hand absently grazing the throw over her lap.
“You’re not watching,” he said, eyes on her instead of the screen.
“I’m background watching,” she replied without looking at him.
“You’re doing it upside down. That’s the Netflix menu.”
She groaned. “It all looks the same.”
Maan didn’t argue. He crossed to the seating area and returned with a folded slip of paper — not something he usually used. Paper. But he handed it to her with a quiet, “Your team is coming tomorrow.”
She blinked. “Team?”
He slid his hands into the pockets of his joggers. “Sheetal called. They wanted to visit you.”
A pause.
“You said yes?”
“I said 4 PM. Thirty minutes. Here.”
Geet sat up a little straighter, startled. “You told them I’m here?”
He raised a brow. “Did you want me to lie?”
“No, but—” she hesitated, tugging her braid forward, “you really told Sheetal mam?”
“She was the only one brave enough to call me,” he said dryly. “I respected the attempt.”
Geet flushed. “God. They’re going to talk.”
“Let them.”
“Maan.”
His gaze was steady. “They care about you. And they work for me. They can manage both.”
She bit her lip.
+++
Next Day – Athena Heights, 4:00 PM
The car pulled up to the private gated entrance of Athena Heights.
Kavya stepped out first, holding a dangerously large bouquet of lilies that looked like they were trying to audition for a wedding. Nisha followed, balancing a cake box that was aggressively labeled “Get Well or Go Home.” Raj, in a shirt too formal for a Saturday, looked like he was mentally calculating the cost of every brick.
Sheetal, very pregnant, emerged last — composed, clipboard in hand, but secretly already sweating from the aura of powerful CEO boyfriend energy radiating from the glass elevator.
As instructed, they told the front desk:
“We’re here for Mr. Khurana.”
The words felt ridiculous coming out of their mouths. Like trying to RSVP to Mount Olympus.
The security nodded once, scanned their IDs, and silently led them to a private elevator with no buttons. It operated by access card only.
The doors slid shut.
And they ascended.
In silence.
Until Nisha whispered:
“We’re going into his lair.”
Sheetal glared. “Try not to lose composure.”
“I’m composed!” Kavya whisper-hissed. “Just…vibrating with curiosity.”
The elevator opened.
And so did their jaws.
It wasn’t an apartment. It was a realm.
Double-height ceilings, warm neutral tones, and gold accents that didn’t try to show off—but whispered money in the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the space with natural light, spilling over wood floors and silk-upholstered furniture. A coffee table looked like it cost more than Raj’s hatchback.
And in the center of it all—
Geet.
Propped up against a cushion on the couch, arm gently wrapped in a sling, hair loosely braided, in a soft rose-toned kurta.
She looked like someone who had just stepped out of a recovery retreat... in the Himalayas... funded by royalty.
“Hi,” she said sheepishly.
They gaped.
“You—” Kavya began.
“Are in—” Nisha continued.
“THIS?!” Raj finished, sweeping his arms around the living room like he was introducing a palace.
Sheetal walked over and gently hugged Geet from the side, careful of her arm. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Just a little stiff.”
“She has physio in the mornings,” said a voice from the hallway.
They all turned in unison.
Maan entered.
Dark grey trousers. White shirt rolled to the elbows. Sleeves pushed back just enough to show the veins in his forearms. Barefoot.
And holding a tray of five glasses of cucumber-mint water like it was the most normal thing in the world.
There was a beat of stunned silence.
He walked over, placed the tray on the side table, and gave a nod that wasn’t exactly warm—but wasn’t cold either.
“Thank you for coming. She’s been pretending to be fine all day.”
“I have not!” Geet muttered.
“She faked a nap to avoid physio.”
“I was resting my eyes.”
“She whimpered during shoulder rotation.”
Geet smacked the pillow beside her with her good arm. “You’re such a traitor.”
His mouth twitched. Just slightly.
Kavya and Nisha watched them like they were seeing a live rom-com.
“Mr. Khurana,” Sheetal said, recovering first. “Thank you for letting us visit.”
He inclined his head. “She needed a distraction.”
Geet glared.
“She loves you all very much,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
A few hearts combusted.
Raj stared at a corner of the ceiling like it was the only safe visual surface.
The friends slowly took their seats — cautiously, as if the sofas were sacred. One of them whispered, “This couch is softer than my entire childhood.”
Kavya leaned toward Geet and murmured, “So…how far along are we in this relationship?”
Geet’s ears turned pink.
Maan chose that exact moment to bring over a fruit platter.
And paused.
“Four cushions away,” he said dryly. “Maybe five.”
Kavya choked on a grape.
Geet groaned into her elbow. “Ignore him. He’s high on protein bars.”
Maan sat beside her without comment. Hand gently resting behind her, not touching, but there. Present.
Supportive.
Unmissable.
And the room understood.
This wasn’t a rumour.
This wasn’t an office crush.
This was something else entirely.
Real.
Heavy.
Warm.
And even though Maan didn’t smile much—he looked at Geet like she was gravity.
That was enough.
+++
Since Maan had gone to take a client call, the atmosphere had lightened.
The laughter hadn’t stopped in ten minutes.
Kavya was clutching a velvet cushion like it was a lifeline, and Nisha had kicked off her shoes, feet curled under her on the edge of the impossibly plush sectional. Raj was eyeing the modernist bookshelf with the reverence of a monk, and Sheetal — having finally surrendered to the overwhelming luxury — sipped her cucumber water with a serene “this is my new standard” smile.
Geet sat upright, a fluffy shawl wrapped around her, casted arm resting on a bolster. Her fractured leg was elevated on a curved leather ottoman that probably cost more than her entire first pay cheque.
“Okay,” Nisha said, eyes gleaming. “Just so I have this correct — you’re staying here?”
Geet nodded cautiously. “Technically, yes.”
“Recovering in this living room?”
“Well…”
“Oh my god,” Kavya gasped. “You’re in one of the guest suites, aren’t you?”
Geet hesitated.
Then shrugged.
“No.”
Four heads tilted.
“What do you mean no?” Raj asked, squinting. “There are like—four suites on this floor.”
“I’m in the master bedroom.”
The words dropped like a pin in a cathedral.
A long pause.
Kavya blinked. “You mean… the master master bedroom?”
Geet nodded again. “Yes.”
Sheetal set down her glass slowly. “The one with the walk-in closet and the private terrace?”
“Yes.”
“The one with the marble tub?”
“Yes.”
Nisha clutched her chest. “The one that belongs to him?”
Geet coughed delicately. “Yes.”
Silence.
Then—
“GEETANJALI KUMAR.”
“SHUT UP.”
“YOU’RE LIVING LIKE A QUEEN.”
“IS THIS A FANFICTION?”
Kavya practically rolled off the couch. “How are you so calm about this?! You’re sleeping in Maan Singh Khurana’s bedroom!”
“Technically, I’m healing,” Geet mumbled.
Sheetal gave her a look. “You just admitted you’re living in his personal sanctum and that he adjusts your pillow height with a spreadsheet. That’s not healing. That’s a domestic partnership with CEO privileges.”
Raj muttered under his breath, “I’ll never be able to look Sir in the eye again.”
Nisha grinned. “Don’t worry. He only glares at you when you delay sprint updates.”
Kavya leaned in, stage-whispering to Geet. “So? What’s it like? The bed. The bathroom. His closet. Is it terrifying? Is it heated?”
“It smells like him,” Geet said before she could stop herself.
They stared.
She flushed. “I meant…sandalwood. And…something sharp.”
“Sharp??”
“Like power. Or rage.”
“Like… billionaire rage?”
“Stop.”
Kavya clutched her imaginary pearls. “Oh my god, you’re literally in his bed.”
“I have a cast!”
Nisha deadpanned, “So does your love life.”
“GUYS—”
Right then, the hallway light flicked on.
Footsteps.
And Maan appeared again — barefoot, wearing a black Henley, glass of water in hand.
He paused at the edge of the room.
Looked at all of them.
Then at Geet.
And then at Kavya, who had frozen mid-swoon.
Geet cleared her throat. “We were just talking about… hydration.”
Maan raised a brow.
Then crossed the room, handed Geet the water without a word, and walked away.
Vanished into the hallway.
Dead silence.
Raj whispered, “That man is a menace.”
Kavya fanned herself with a napkin. “I want someone to hand me water like that.”
Nisha turned to Geet, utterly serious. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Geet didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
Bollywood
Ye Hai Mohabbatein
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
475