Page 28 of Yes Boss
Their knees didn’t touch. But they were close enough that he was acutely aware of her presence, of the warmth she brought into his space, of how easily she occupied it.
Raghav removed the silver dome from her plate first, then his own. Steam rose from the dishes. The scent filled the room, rich and inviting.
He noticed the pause in her expression. Brief. Almost invisible.
When she turned the laptop toward him, he leaned closer than necessary, his shoulder pressing lightly against hers. “The color scheme is better.”
“Thank you.” She scrolled through the slides, walking him through the changes. Her tone stayed even, professional, but she shifted slightly in her chair, adjusting to the space he hadn’t given back.
They ate as they talked.
Food helped. It gave them somewhere to look when the silence stretched, something to do with their hands when eye contact lingered a second too long. Conversation paused and resumed easily, like this was normal. Like it hadn’t changed anything.
“The investor dinner is scheduled for eight,” Raghav said. His hand moved toward the document she held, his fingers grazing her knuckles. The paper crinkled between them. One heartbeat. Two. Three. Her fingers uncurled from the page, leaving it in his possession.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “The presentation is scheduled for eight. I’ve confirmed all attendees.”
“You live in Bandra?” he asked out of nowhere, though he already knew the answer.
Ishani blinked. “Yes.”
“Family?”
Her eyebrow raised slightly at this clearly personal query. “I stay alone.”
Raghav’s jaw tightened, a muscle flexing along his temple before he controlled it. The image of Ishani arriving home alone, entering an empty apartment, sat uncomfortably in his mind.
“Is the building secure?” The question came out sharper than he’d intended.
“Very.” She tilted her head slightly, studying him. “Why the sudden interest in my living arrangements, Boss?”
The title—formal, distancing—irritated him. “Security concerns. After yesterday’s incident with Westbrook, it’s clear some clients don’t respect boundaries.”
“I doubt Westbrook knows where I live.”
“That’s not the point.” Raghav’s voice hardened. “Your safety is a company concern.”
“Is it?” Ishani’s expression changed slightly, as if she realized his interest was more than just work-related. “The company never cared about where the other assistants live.”
Raghav met her gaze directly. “Other assistants weren’t you.”
The words hung between them, too revealing, too honest. He watched color rise in her cheeks, the faintest pink against her skin.
“I mean,” he corrected, “other assistants weren’t as involved with high-profile clients and sensitive information.”
Ishani nodded slowly, accepting his explanation though her eyes suggested she’d heard the first answer more clearly. “Well, I appreciate the concern, but I’m perfectly safe.”
Raghav turned back to the presentation, changing topics. “The growth projections. You verified them?”
“Yes. Finance confirmed the numbers.”
“Good.” He gestured to her plate. “You’ve hardly eaten. The food not to your liking?”
“It’s excellent.” She took another bite as if to prove it. “I’m just focused on the presentation.”
“We have time.” Raghav leaned back in his chair, watching her. “The meeting isn’t until three.”
“But I should prepare—”
