Page 8 of Yes Boss
Ansh paused. “They’ve already been cleared by Legal.”
“Still,” she said, eyes on the page.
The tone left no room for debate.
Most new hires fumbled when Ansh stopped—adjusted their posture, waited for approval. Ishani didn’t. She kept reading, unhurried.
After a moment, Ansh nodded once and walked away.
Raghav watched through the glass.
Interesting.
Not long after, a department director stopped at Ishani’s desk, leaning in to speak to her.
Raghav couldn’t hear what was said, but he watched the exchange unfold. Ishani listened without pausing her work, nodded once, then shook her head. The director tried again. She glanced at the calendar on her screen, said something brief, and this time the man straightened, nodded, and walked away.
He realized he’d been observing her for nearly fifteen minutes. Too long for a simple assessment of a new employee. He turnedback to his screen and opened his emails, fingers moving faster than necessary. This was work. Nothing more. She handled his schedule. She handled access. Of course he was paying attention.
He fired off a reply, crisp and to the point. His focus should have stayed there. It didn’t.
He noticed the movement beyond that glass. And, briefly, that annoyed him.
Chapter 3
Raghav ended the call with more force than necessary.
New York was pushing back on terms they’d already agreed to. He rubbed a thumb briefly at his temple, then glanced through the glass.
Ishani sat at her desk, posture straight, fingers moving across the keyboard fluently. Two weeks in, and she still hadn’t made a single visible mistake. Not even unnecessary questions.
He didn’t like how often his attention drifted there.
“Ishani.” His voice carried through the intercom.
“Yes, Boss?”
“The McKinley Group is calling in ten minutes. Take it. They’re upset about the revised timeline.”
Most assistants would have hesitated. Asked for guidance. Requested talking points. Ishani simply nodded once. “I’ll handle it.”
Raghav should have left it there.
He didn’t.
He pressed the button and the door to his office opened, this time a little wider than before. Just enough for sound to carry. He told himself it was practical. He needed to know how it was being handled.
Eight minutes later, Ishani’s desk phone rang.
Raghav watched her posture shift. Shoulders back. Chin lifted. Her voice, when she answered, was calm and steady.
The client’s irritation bled through, loud enough to carry.
“I understand your concerns, Mr. McKinley,” Ishani said, lowering her voice instead of raising it. “The revised timeline includes safeguards that protect both sides. Removing them would introduce unnecessary risk.”
She didn’t rush. Didn’t placate. Didn’t defend. She controlled the call.
When she ended it, she made a brief note, then looked back through the glass. Met his gaze. Waited. As if she knew it was a test.
