Page 80 of Okay Boss
Divya, who’d been awake since five-thirty checking email, had agreed. Because she couldn’t tell her mother-in-law at six in the morning that she’d been working, right?
The past two days had been a blur of visitors. Relatives arriving to bless the new bride. A small gathering with extended family yesterday evening. Kavita introducing her to friends, neighbours, people whose names Divya struggled to remember. Every time she’d thought she might slip away to schedule Vikram’s week, someone else would arrive with sweets and expectations.
And now it was the day Vikram started shooting again, and she hadn’t organized a single day.
The walk had been pleasant. Kavita and Ishani had kept conversation light, the neighborhood, the best places to shop, stories about Vikram and Raghav as children. Divya had smiled and nodded and tried not to think about the chaos if she didn’t schedule his day.
She’d meant to do it before breakfast. Had planned to slip away after the walk, reply to production emails, coordinate with Farhan’s team, make sure everything was aligned before Vikram even finished his gym routine.
But Kavita had steered them directly to the dining room at 7:15, announcing breakfast was ready, and there was no polite way to say‘actually, I need to go manage your son’s career first.’
So Divya had excused herself for exactly ninety seconds. Long enough to grab her notebook and pen.
Vikram was nowhere in sight. Still at the gym, probably. Which meant she had maybe ten minutes before he appeared, expecting his day to be organized.
She’d walked into the dining room with her notebook tucked under her arm, pen in hand, mind churning through logistics.
The reaction was immediate.
Conversation didn’t exactly stop. It paused. Faltered. Like someone had pressed a button that made everyone move in slow motion.
Kavita, halfway through pouring tea, looked up. Her hand stilled mid-pour.
Harshit lowered his newspaper by precisely two inches. His eyes tracked Divya over the top edge.
Raghav glanced up from his phone. Paused. His eyebrows rose slightly.
Ishani stopped buttering her toast, knife suspended in air.
Four pairs of eyes watched as Divya pulled out a chair and sat down, notebook already positioned beside her plate, pen clicking open.
“Good morning,” she said, the greeting formal and automatic. She offered a quick smile, polite, professional, then immediately looked down at her notebook.
The silence that followed wasn’t hostile. Just... watching. Waiting.
Divya didn’t notice. She was too busy scribbling notes.
A door opened somewhere in the house. Footsteps approached. Confident. Unhurried.
Everyone at the table turned.
Vikram appeared in the doorway, fresh from the gym. Black track pants, fitted t-shirt still damp at the collar, hair tousled from exertion. He was toweling his face as he walked in, not looking up.
“Morning,” he said generally, tossing the towel onto a side table.
A chorus of greetings answered him. But when he looked up, his eyes went directly to Divya.
And narrowed.
She was bent over her notebook, pen moving rapidly, lips pressed together in concentration. She’d pushed her glasses up with her knuckle and they’d already slipped back down her nose. She pushed them up again without looking away from her notes.
Vikram’s jaw tightened. He walked to the table slowly, deliberately, pulling out the chair directly across from her. Sat down. Poured himself juice with careful, controlled movements.
The family watched this in silence.
Kavita caught Harshit’s eye. He raised one eyebrow infinitesimally. She shook her head, equally subtle, and returned to her tea.
Raghav leaned back in his chair, phone forgotten, a small smile playing at his mouth.
