"Kahan chupay baithay ho farjaad bahar aao." She was well aware of her voice echoing in the corridors as she took confident strides towards the meeting room. She had this surety he would've heard her so far not that he had an option to ignore her today. She screamed at the top of her voice taking big hasty steps towards her destination.
She had come here with a motive, and that was to make sure Farjaad Khan Bahadur was reminded of all his ancestors.
"Meeting gai bhaad mein, usay forran bahar bulao." Dismissing his PA's pleas she continued with the constant bellowing. An incandescent rage burned her inside. She was so mad, so so so mad at him for making things difficult for her again. What did he even think of himself? What was he thinking before talking behind her back to Pasha Saab? She thought they were a team now. Heck! He was supposed to be on her side. Isn't that how it works? Your man always supports you but here he was ratting her out, talking gibberish about her with Pasha Saab and turning her already laborious life into a frustrating mess that she could no longer sort out.
"Ye kya ho raha hai?" There he was standing tall and handsome. A thick frown plastered on his face that she knew very well how to unclasp from his gorgeous face.
"Mein aj apse baat kr ke h jaon gi" She uttered folding her hands not missing the way his eyes traveled from her head to toe. Still frowning without showing any flux, he stood aloof staring at her as if she hadn't peppered the section between his eyes with sloppy kisses a few days ago at his place.
"Miss Umeed mere paas time nhi hai." The nonchalance vexed her further. This is what she hated about it. This attitude, this assumption that he's the only busy human being in this world and rest of the world is sitting idly counting the leaves on trees.
"Tou apko kya lgta hai mere paas faltu time hai? Meri trf se aap bhaad jahanum dozakh jahan marzi jayen, wese bh chugal-khori krne wala jannat mein nhi jata."
"Miss umeed ye mera office hai." He reminded her with pressed teeth. Office was out of bounds- That's what she was told when they started their little game. His workplace was important to him and they had decided whatever they had in between would stay out of this place.
She agreed.
He wasn't wrong. Offices are crazy places with species whose gossip skills should've been on top of their resume. These people would not know what was happening in a project but details of someone else's life were to them like an open book.
"Jaanti hoon, tbhie apse baat krne ai hoon"
"Btaein kya chahti hain."
"Sorry krein mujhe abhi isi waqt" She ordered as a matter of fact. With full conviction that she wasn't wrong to demand an apology from him, standing in his office, in front of his PA with probably more employees eavesdropping on them the very second. But she didn't care. He was at fault and he had to apologise for his blunder.
She looked at him straight in the eye and something in those deep brown eyes told her the apology was on the tip of his tongue had it not been for Miss Mehek standing right there looking at them with a horrid expression.
He didn't flinch or react but directed his PA to guide her outside. Umeed Pasha had never felt this humiliated.
She shouldn't have come here today. She should NOT have let her anger dictate her actions. He not only had the audacity to ignore her but let her leave without unleashing her pent-up anger caused by his very actions and treacherous words.
Treachery. Yes, that was the word. He deceived her. He probably didn't realize what he had done. Or maybe he didn't care.
While her brain cursed the man she had been secretly dating for the past few weeks, a familiar touch fastened around her arm and pulled her inside the elevator she had been waiting for. She closed her eyes at the intensity of being hit against the steel wall that felt cold against her back. His left hand on her right wrist stayed intact and as a safety measure, he had his right hand affixed to her mouth. They both knew how capable her mouth was but in this month he seemed to have underestimated her.
