Chapter 1: Introduction
Meenal lived between deadlines and last-minute creative inspiration. Depending on where they took her, she would stumble into work with wet hair and crumpled t-shirts on some days. On other days she was sharp and composed, heels clicking, lipstick perfect, like she planned to conquer the day.
She worked late on most days because ideas didn’t respect office hours and inspiration had a bad habit of striking at the most unexpected times.
That was how she kept noticing Vikrant Dhawan—tailored suits, a watch that caught the light, posture too precise to be accidental, every movement calculated, measured and efficient.
Not her type—in fact, the exact opposite of her—and yet.
It annoyed her that she noticed. What annoyed her even more was that she wondered if he noticed her.
He did notice Meenal, mainly because she didn’t ever look twice. Most people did, from investors to employees to even strangers trying to gain his favor or get into his good books. She didn’t do any of that. Sometimes she smiled, other times, her mind seemed to be on the other side of the world. Sometimes she was dressed like she’d just walked out of a pitch meeting; other times like she’d rolled out of bed and won anyway.
His life ran on structure, strategy and planning. In his experience, staying in control kept things efficient. But when it came to Meenal, there seemed to be no pattern, no plan, no structure. That bothered him, and yet.