Nuha and Nasr arrived at Lal Qilla, the bustling restaurant where their paths had first crossed months ago. The warm aroma of desi spices filled the air, mingling with the cheerful chatter of families and friends. Nasr’s eyes lit up as he spotted a familiar face behind the counter.

“Nasr bhai!” one of his old colleagues shouted, stepping out to greet him. Nasr embraced the man in a cheerful hug, laughing. “I barely recognize you in this suit!”

Nasr chuckled, shaking hands with a few others who joined them. “Six months feels like ages. You guys holding up without me?”

“Barely,” one of them joked. “But look at you now! Moving up in the world!”

Nasr smiled modestly, glancing at Nuha, who sat waiting at their reserved table, her expression neutral but eyes glinting with patience. "Gotta go. Boss’s orders," he said, excusing himself and walking back toward Nuha.

Nuha sat with her legs crossed, scanning the menu but not really reading it. She tapped her nails lightly on the table, a rare sign of impatience. When Selena finally walked in, Nuha glanced up and smirked slightly.

Selena, still in her hospital scrubs, walked briskly toward their table, her no-nonsense sneakers making soft thuds against the tiled floor. Her navy-blue hijab flapped slightly behind her as she swung her white coat over one arm. She plopped down across from Nuha, exhaling loudly.

“You’re not on your laptop? What’s the occasion?” Selena teased, taking a sip from the glass of water Nuha had poured for her.

Nuha raised an eyebrow. “There’s a first time for everything.”

Selena’s gaze darted to Nasr, who was standing a few feet away, his black suit tailored neatly against his tall frame. His dark jet-black hair was combed neatly, and his shoes—though slightly scuffed—held their own under his confident stance.

“Wait…” Selena blinked, leaning forward slightly. “Is that—? No way!” She squinted, as though confirming her thoughts.

Nasr approached them with a professional stride, holding a notebook in one hand. “Good afternoon, Ms. Nuha, Dr. Selena,” he said smoothly, his voice calm and measured.

Selena blinked again, her disbelief evident. “Wow. Am I blind? Or did you actually join Libaas?”

Nasr chuckled lightly, adjusting his watch as he sat down beside Nuha. “You’re not blind, Dr. Selena. It’s good to see you again.”

Selena placed her hands on the table, her surprise transforming into admiration. “Well, well, Nuha. You always know how to recruit the best.” She glanced at Nuha, a teasing smile creeping across her lips.

Nuha shifted in her seat, biting back a smile of her own. “It’s not my fault I recognize talent when I see it.”

Selena leaned back in her chair, staring at Nasr for a moment too long. “Honestly, you’re cut out for more than being a secretary. Ever considered acting? Or modeling?”

Nuha’s soft scoff interrupted Selena’s gaze. “He’s my secretary, not your project, Selena.” Her tone was cool, but the hint of amusement in her expression betrayed her usually guarded demeanor.

Selena raised her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Just saying—he’s got the looks and the vibe.”

Nasr, feeling slightly awkward, cleared his throat. “Should I get the menus?”

Selena grinned, shaking her head. “No need. Let’s eat something heavy. I’m starving after my shift. Nuha, you’re paying, right?”

Nuha rolled her eyes, her lips quirking into a reluctant smile. “Typical Selena.”

Nasr stood to flag down a waiter, his old colleagues still glancing at him and giving him thumbs-ups from the counter. Selena leaned closer to Nuha, whispering, “You have a gem here. Don’t let anyone steal him.”

Nuha arched an eyebrow, shaking her head in exasperation as Nasr returned with menus. “If you’re done assessing my employee, can we focus on the food?”

The three of them laughed, the conversation weaving between work and life as the afternoon wore on. But even amid the light-hearted banter, Selena’s curious glances at Nasr didn’t go unnoticed by Nuha.

---

The meeting room at Libaas buzzed with energy as the marketing team, fashion designers, and the new Instagram model, Anjali, settled in. Samples of fabrics, sketches, and mood boards were spread out on the table, filling the space with a sense of creativity. Anjali, with her lively and cheerful personality, was at the center of it all, her excitement infectious.

“I love this embroidery!” Anjali exclaimed, holding up a swatch of deep crimson fabric. “You all have such amazing craftsmanship. It’s no wonder Libaas is so well-known.”

The designers beamed at her compliment, their usually reserved demeanors softening under her praise.

Nasr, carrying a tray with steaming cups of chai and coffee, entered the room with his usual calm. “Chai for everyone,” he announced, setting the tray on the table. He then picked up a specific cup and handed it to Nuha.

“Your coffee, Ms. Nuha,” he said, his tone professional but with a hint of warmth.

Nuha glanced at the cup, instantly recognizing it as her usual order from her favorite coffee shop. She spared him a fleeting look of acknowledgment, her eyes meeting his briefly. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft but neutral as she turned back to the marketing team, continuing the discussion on potential shoot locations.

Nasr stepped back, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before returning to his duties.

Meanwhile, Anjali, holding her cup of chai, approached him with a cheerful smile. “Nasr, right?” she asked, her voice lilting with curiosity.

“Yes, Ms. Anjali,” he replied, standing tall and poised.

“You don’t have to be so formal! Just Anjali is fine.” She took a sip of her chai, her eyes sparkling. “So, what’s your role here at Libaas?”

“I’m Ms. Nuha’s secretary,” he answered simply.

“That’s impressive. I can see she trusts you with a lot.”

Nasr nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s a busy role, but rewarding.”

“Where are you from?” she asked, her curiosity genuine.

“Lahore,” he replied. “And you?”

“I’m from Punjab too! But across the border—in Amritsar.”

At the mention of Punjab, the conversation naturally shifted to Punjabi, their shared language creating an instant bond.

“Lahore and Amritsar are like siblings, so close yet separated,” Nasr remarked, his tone light.

“Exactly!” Anjali agreed, laughing. “Whenever I visit Punjab, I always wish I could cross over and see Lahore. They say it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Nasr said, his eyes momentarily distant as he thought of home. “You should visit someday. The food, the culture, the people—it’s all worth it.”

As they chatted in the corner, their voices blending in a cheerful rhythm of Punjabi, Nuha glanced over from her place at the table. She saw Nasr laughing softly, Anjali animatedly gesturing with her hands. For a moment, she observed them, her expression unreadable, before returning her focus to the meeting.

“We’ll finalize the destination as the Jumeirah beachside villas,” Nuha stated decisively to the marketing team. “Make sure permits are in place, and coordinate with the photographers for sunset shots.”

Once the meeting wrapped up, Nasr excused himself from his conversation with Anjali and approached Nuha, his tablet in hand. “Ms. Nuha, your schedule is clear for the next hour. Shall we review the updates from the design team?”

Nuha nodded, her gaze briefly flickering to Anjali, who was now chatting with one of the designers. “Yes, let’s get started,” she said, her tone brisk as she led him toward her office.

Behind them, Anjali watched Nasr walk away, a thoughtful smile on her face. “You’ve got a great team here, Nuha,” she remarked, her voice carrying across the room.

Nuha turned slightly, her expression composed. “We aim for nothing less.”

As they exited, the creative buzz in the studio continued, but the lingering energy of the interaction between Nuha, Nasr, and Anjali left an unspoken tension in the air.

---

The dim lighting of the designer studio cast a soft glow on the wedding dress draped across the mannequin. Nuha meticulously stitched the final seams, her fingers deftly working through the intricate beaded embroidery. The sheer dupatta lay across the work table, its delicate fabric shimmering with heavy golden threadwork. She leaned closer, adjusting the spacing of a cluster of faux diamonds, ensuring every detail was immaculate.

Hours passed unnoticed until a faint rumble from her stomach broke her concentration. She froze, realizing she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast—over twelve hours ago. Her coffee cup sat cold on the table, a testament to her singular focus. With a sigh, Nuha set her tools down and stood, her back aching slightly from the long hours bent over her work.

Grabbing her phone, she opened the Talabat app, scrolling through options to order food. Nothing appealed to her as much as simply getting out of the studio for a moment. Draping her blazer over her shoulder, she exited, the quietness of the building surrounding her.

Her steps echoed lightly in the empty corridors, her sleek, neatly tied-back hair now disheveled from the day's work. Strands of hair fell loosely around her face, giving her an uncharacteristically undone look. She reached up to brush them back, noticing how unkempt her hair had become after hours of working. With a sigh, she let the rest of it fall loose, running her fingers through the strands to relieve the tension at her scalp.

Reaching the elevator, she pressed the button and continued to massage her head, the ache from concentration and lack of rest lingering. When the elevator dinged and the doors opened on her office floor, she strode purposefully toward her office to grab her laptop and bag. As she approached, a faint glow spilled from under the door. She paused, her brows knitting together.

Pushing the door open, she found Nasr sitting at his desk, a study lamp casting a soft halo around him. A half-eaten bowl of salad sat next to his tablet, which displayed rows of data. His suit jacket was draped over the back of the chair, and his tie was slightly loosened.

Nuha straightened, quickly pulling her hair back into a ponytail, gathering the strands with practiced ease to restore her usual composed appearance. Clearing her throat, she stepped into the room. “Why are you still here, Mr. Nasr?” she asked, her tone professional but laced with mild surprise.

Nasr looked up, momentarily startled before offering her a small smile. “I was reviewing some of the old trends and reports from the company archives. There’s a lot of data about past clients and sales strategies that could be useful for optimizing the current workflow,” he explained.

Nuha nodded, glancing briefly at the screen. “That’s thorough of you. It’s not part of your immediate responsibilities, though.”

“I figured it might help streamline some of the processes. The archives aren’t the easiest to navigate,” he added with a slight chuckle.

She regarded him for a moment, impressed despite herself. “I see. How are you planning to get home?” She glanced at her gold leather watch, noting it was already 11 PM.

Nasr shrugged casually. “Probably the bus. I’ll manage, don’t worry about it.”

Nuha frowned slightly but masked it quickly. “At this hour?”

“I’ve done it before,” he said with a reassuring tone.

She hesitated before speaking again. “There’s no need to overextend yourself. You’ve already put in more hours than required.” Her voice softened just slightly. “Make sure to take care of yourself, Mr. Nasr. Good work today.”

Nasr smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Nuha. I’ll wrap up soon.”

She turned to leave, her bag in hand, but paused at the door. Looking back briefly, she said, “Good night, Mr. Nasr.”

“Good night, Ms. Nuha,” he replied, watching her leave before returning to his work.

As Nuha walked toward the elevator, her thoughts lingered on Nasr’s dedication. She entered the elevator, a mix of exhaustion and curiosity flickering across her face as the doors closed.

As the door clicked shut behind Nuha, Nasr leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. His gaze lingered on the doorway where she had stood moments ago, her composed presence leaving a quiet ripple in the air.

He couldn't help but replay the image of her disheveled hair and slightly tired demeanor in his mind. It was so different from the polished, professional Nuha he saw during the day. Tonight, she’d let something slip—a glimpse of unguarded humanity beneath her intimidatingly sharp exterior.

For a fleeting moment, he thought she looked… cute. But he quickly dismissed the thought, shaking his head at himself. Cute wasn’t a word he could ever associate with someone like her—not aloud, at least. Not when she carried herself with an aura that made everyone tread carefully around her, himself included.

Still, that softer side of her, even for just a moment, had been unexpectedly endearing. It was a side he doubted many ever got to see.

Nasr chuckled softly, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. “She’s full of surprises,” he muttered under his breath, glancing back at his tablet. Even if she was a little intimidating, she had a way of keeping things... interesting.