Page 34 of Yes Boss
It was absurd. Irrational. He didn’t compete for attention. Never had. Preference had never mattered to him, least of all when it came to his brother.
And yet, the thought followed him home.
He’d built his life on the certainty that outcomes bent to discipline, planning, and control.
This one didn’t feel inclined to bend at all.
Chapter 9
It was late afternoon and a weekend. Desks were clearing out, voices lowering, the day winding down around them.
Raghav, however, was still working. Or trying to.
His eyes tracked the document on his screen. His attention, successfully, stayed on Ishani.
Movement near her desk caught his eye. Kavya wandered over and leaned casually against the edge, already mid-sentence.
Raghav’s gaze shifted instinctively to his door. His hand moved toward the remote. He stopped. What was he doing? Opening the door to listen in?
Ridiculous.
Still, something about Kavya set his teeth on edge. Too friendly. Too chatty. The kind who turned every harmless detail into office gossip. Ishani didn’t need that.
He told himself he was being practical. Protective. Responsible, even. With a quiet exhale, he pressed the button. The door eased open just enough to let sound carry.
He started reviewing a document, making notes, posture unchanged, eyes on his screen. Anyone watching would think he was deep in work. Only he knew his focus had shifted entirely to the conversation drifting in from outside.
“A bunch of us are heading to Citrus after work,” Kavya said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “You should come. You haven’t joined us even once since you started.”
Raghav’s hand stilled.
“Today?” Ishani said. “I still have the Singapore proposal to finish, and—”
“Come on,” Kavya cut in. “One hour. You can spare that much.”
Raghav frowned.
“Besides,” Kavya added lightly, lowering her voice just enough, “Sam will be there too. He asked about you.”
Something sharp flicked through Raghav’s chest. The pen in his hand bent under his grip. A soft crack. Ink smeared across his fingers. He stared at it for a second, then set the broken pieces aside without comment. He reached out for a tissue, wiping the ink off his hands with more force than necessary.
Samrat Sethi. Creative Director. Thirty-two. Single. Known for his charm and his habit of pursuing every attractive woman in the office.
“Sam?” Ishani’s voice held a note of surprise. “Why would he be asking about—”
Raghav pressed the intercom button with enough force to make the plastic creak.
“Ishani,” he said, his voice calm despite the tightness in his shoulders. “I need you right now. There’s a problem with the Singapore proposal.”
Through the glass, he saw Ishani straighten. “Sorry, Kavya,” she said with a small shrug. “Maybe next time.”
“There’s always a ‘next time’ with you,” Kavya replied, disappointment evident in her tone. “Tell the boss man you have a life outside these walls.”
Raghav released the intercom button, pretending to study his screen as Ishani took her laptop and entered his office. Only when the door closed behind her did he look up, his expression perfectly composed despite the heat still burning in his chest.
“The Singapore numbers need recalculation,” he said, voice flat. “The growth projections are too conservative.”
“The projections were accurate as of this morning,” Ishani replied, opening her laptop. “Did something change?”
