Page 14 of Yes Boss
Ansh was hovering. That alone was unusual. He didn’t interrupt unless something was already on fire.
Raghav finished his point on market positioning. He excused himself and stepped into the corridor closing the door behind him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Natasha Mehra is here,” Ansh said, lowering his voice. “She bypassed security. Claimed she’s an old friend.”
Raghav’s jaw tightened.
Old friendwas a generous lie. Natasha had never been anything of the sort. A family acquaintance, introduced years ago, who had mistaken proximity for permission. He’d never encouraged her, never reciprocated, never crossed a line. But that had never stopped her. She clung. She assumed. And when she felt ignored, she escalated.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“That’s the problem.” Ansh glanced down the corridor. “Ishani intercepted her. She’s at reception. On this floor.”
Something cold settled in Raghav’s chest.
Natasha didn’t understand restraint. When she was upset, professionalism meant nothing to her. She’d shown up at his office once before, unannounced, loud enough to draw half the floor’s attention. The gossip had taken weeks to die down.
“Take a fifteen-minute break,” he told the team inside the conference room, ignoring their surprised expressions. “We’ll resume with the market entry strategy.”
He moved through the corridor, rounding the corner just in time to see Ishani guiding Natasha toward one of the smaller conference rooms near reception.
Even from a distance, she was unmistakable.
She wore a fitted red dress that stood out aggressively against the neutral office palette, her heels clicking sharply as she walked. Her gestures were wide, dramatic, her voice pitched high enough that a few heads had turned before Ishani intervened. She looked furious. Embarrassed. Entitled.
Ishani, by contrast, moved with calm efficiency. One hand indicated the conference room. The other remained relaxed at her side. Her expression was neutral, composed, almost impassive.
The door closed behind them.
Raghav reached the reception desk. “What happened?”
The receptionist exhaled quietly. “Ms. Mehra arrived demanding to see you. When I told her you were in a meeting, she raised her voice.” A pause. “Ms. Rao stepped in immediately.”
Through the glass wall, Raghav could see Natasha pacing the length of the room, arms slicing through the air as she spoke. Ishani stood still, listening without reaction.
Natasha’s voice carried faintly through the glass.
“…cowardly,” she snapped. “If he has anything to say, he can say it to my face.”
Raghav’s jaw tightened. He took a step toward the door.
Then Ishani spoke. He couldn’t hear the words, but he saw the effect.
Natasha’s shoulders drop slightly. Ishani offered her a tissue from a box on the conference table. After another minute of conversation, Natasha nodded, straightened her dress, and followed Ishani to the door.
“Thank you for understanding, Ms. Mehra,” Ishani said evenly. “I’ll make sure he receives your message.”
Natasha’s eyes were red, her smile tight and brittle. “I apologise for the disturbance.”
As they neared the elevators, Natasha’s gaze lifted. She saw Raghav.
His jaw tightened, eyes narrowed, already preparing for the flare-up. It didn’t come.
Natasha slowed for half a step, met his eyes, and gave him a brief nod. Not warm. Not resentful. Just… resigned. Then she turned and continued toward the elevators without another word.
Raghav stood there longer than necessary, watching the doors slide shut. Whatever Ishani had said had worked.
