Page 93 of Okay Boss
For the next two hours, Ishani demonstrated makeup techniques with running commentary that had Divya laughing.
“Eyeliner is basically just drawing. Except if you mess up, you look like a raccoon who’s made questionable life choices.”
She showed Divya how to enhance features without masking them, subtle techniques that worked with her natural appearance.
“You have incredible cheekbones. Why are you hiding them? It’s like owning a Ferrari and using it to deliver newspapers.”
When they moved to clothes, Ishani pulled out pieces that looked nothing like Divya’s practical wardrobe. Fitted blouses in jewel tones. Tailored trousers. Dresses that acknowledged the existence of curves.
“These aren’t me,” Divya said, holding up a sapphire blue wrap dress.
“They’re not current-you. But they could be expanded-you. You contain multitudes, Divya. Might as well have clothes that match.”
Ishani’s expression shifted, becoming more serious without losing its warmth. “This isn’t about fixing you. This is about giving you options. Some days you want to be invisible-practical-Divya. Great. Some days you might want to be look-at-me-I’m-spectacular-Divya. Also great. But right now, you only have one setting, and that’s limiting.”
She squeezed Divya’s hand. “You walked into this family through chaos. But you’re here now, and you’re ours. That means I get to do sisterly things like teach you how to weaponize eyeliner and make you practice walking in heels.”
She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around Divya. “I’m always here whenever you need me. Never hesitate to reach out.”
Pulling back, she brushed a tear from the corner of Divya’s eye and pulled her cheeks, making her laugh.
By the time Ishani left, Divya stood alone before the mirror. Not transformed. But different. Like she’d been given permission to be more than one thing at once.
Two Nights Later
Divya stood before the bathroom mirror, attempting what Ishani had taught her.
The contacts went in after three tries, uncomfortable, making her blink rapidly, but they worked. The world sharpened without the barrier of her glasses.
Makeup came next. Light foundation. A touch of the eyeshadow. Subtle eyeliner that only went slightly crooked. Not perfect, but better than she’d expected.
She’d chosen a deep green dress. It actually fit, following lines she usually hid. The heels were only two inches, manageable if she didn’t think too hard about each step.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Vikram was adjusting his tie in the bedroom mirror. He turned at the sound of her footsteps.
His hands stilled. His eyes tracked from her face down to her heels and back up, lingering.
“You look...” He paused. “Different. Beautiful.”
“Ishani helped,” she said, suddenly self-conscious. “Is it too much? I can change...”
“Don’t.” The word came out sharper than intended. He softened his tone. “You look perfect.”
Something in his expression made her breath catch, but before she could analyze it, he was already heading for the door.
“We should go. Can’t be late.”
???
The ballroom of the Taj Land’s End glittered with Bollywood royalty. Divya stood by the refreshment table, a glass of untouched champagne giving her hands something to do besides fidget.
Sideways glances. Whispers behind manicured hands. Curious stares that quickly darted away when she looked back. She’d become a curiosity, the assistant who somehow secured Bollywood’s most eligible bachelor.
Across the room, Vikram stood in conversation with a prominent producer. Even from a distance, she could read his body language perfectly, the slight forward tilt when listening, the measured gestures, the practiced smile. In his charcoal suit and crimson tie, he looked exactly like what he was, a man born to command these spaces.
“That’s a serious expression for such a beautiful face.”
The voice came from her left, smooth, calculated for maximum charm. A young actor stepped into her space. Ayaansh Malhotra. Rising star. Three hit films last year.
