Riddhima Gupta left his office and Armaan Malik, well for a lack of a better word, was gobsmacked. She was damn beautiful, slightly scary, and empty. When she knocked, he stood up, normal pose for him, intending on welcoming whoever came in the door. He assumed one of the companies many workers would come in to oversee the project, but when he saw her. Obviously he knew who she was, he picture came in the paper once in a while. 'Mumbai Girl. Makes it big overseas'. Not that he had really paid attention or anything, but she was there often enough, especially during international fashion weeks, that he knew what she looked like. So, when he saw her in his office he was taken aback, but being Armaan Malik, he didn't show it, he never really showed anything.
This was a result of being brought up by an alcoholic drunk abusive father, and no mother. Emotions, his father did not like, and what his father did not like, he beat up. Armaan, as he grew older, protected himself from his father and as soon as he was old enough to leave, he got a scholarship to Cambridge and stayed in London, studying business. Never did he feel to take his fathers permission, he just upped and left. He had a natural flair for business, and he opened his first hotel, in Mumbai, with the money he had saved from working day and night in London, some of it was on loan, but he paid that off within a year. Not two years after he had graduated from Oxford, Armaan Malik owned 10 hotels. He was 23. Now, approaching 30; Malik Enterprises had reached an incredible height, just in seven years Armaan Malik had become and name everyone knew, everyone heard of and mostly everyone respected.
Regardless, when he saw her, he was slightly shocked. The head of a rather large company had come all the way to India for this project? Riddhima Gupta, he had to admit, fascinated him, through the meeting. Without saying anything, her eyes also didn't say anything. Which was usuall. Women pored and fluttered all around Armaan. After all he was rich, damn handsome, and hot. But the thing was Armaan didn't take advantage, he wasn't a playboy, nor did he particularly realize how good looking he was, and whenever someone thought he did, it seemed like he didn't care.
Armaan focused on his work, and only his work. Throughout his life, in dealing with women, he had found two things. One, a combined revelation, women were amazing, relationships were not. Armaan Malik simply did not have the time for them, but for women, he made time. He made time for women who were not interested in relationships, he could always tell the type. They reveled in him, told their friends, got their glory, and Armaan got an amazing reputation, which he was rather unaware of. However, as a result of him being so upfront, polite, sweet and quiet about it, his reputation in the business world was pristine. But Armaan, was not a playboy, he did not flaunt, he had his fun, and he stayed away. Second, women, most of them, were easy to read, look into their eyes, pretend you care, poori life story samne aaje ga. Most of the time, infact, you didn't even have to tell them anything, look into their eyes, you can tell what they want. Not to say that women were weak, or easy, but Armaan realized that he had a gift, reading his drunk father's mood all those years gave him loads of practice.
Riddhima on the other hand....Armaan paced the meeting room, hands still crossed, She had no bloody reaction, how does that even happen??Her eyes, beautiful sea green....Had a hollow-ness to them, a lack....lost look. She didn't react to him, she didn't give him anything. She....was....well whatever she was, he was going to be spending a whole lot of time with her.
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