Nasr stepped into the Libaas office with a spring in his step, a flask of chai cradled in his arms, and a stack of paper cups balanced on top. He had woken up extra early, his heart full of excitement and nerves, to brew the chai before leaving for his first day at work. It was his signature way of making a good impression, and he couldn’t wait to share it with everyone.

The HR representative greeted him at the reception and led him through the sleek corridors of the office, introducing him to various colleagues. Nasr beamed at everyone he met, his energetic personality lighting up the otherwise professional atmosphere.

“Everyone, meet Nasr,” the HR rep announced to the open office floor. “He’s joining as Ms. Nuha’s new secretary.”

Heads turned, and whispers began. Nasr’s striking features, sharp jawline, and perfectly styled hair immediately drew attention.

“He’s so handsome,” one of the women whispered, her eyes wide.
“I bet he’ll be a distraction,” another added with a giggle.

Mr. Chaudhry stood up from his desk, towering over Nasr. His eyes narrowed slightly as he extended a hand for a handshake.

“Welcome,” Mr. Chaudhry said, his grip tightening around Nasr’s hand with calculated force. “Hope we can work together smoothly.”

Nasr winced but quickly masked it with a cheerful laugh, using his free hand to gently pry his fingers free. “Of course, Mr. Chaudhry. Looking forward to it.”

The HR rep resumed the tour, but not before Nasr noticed Mr. Chaudhry muttering under his breath, “He won’t last an hour here.”

Nasr carried on, unfazed. As they walked by the pantry, he set down the chai flask and cups. “I made this for everyone,” he announced, his voice carrying across the room. “Please help yourselves!”

His colleagues exchanged surprised glances before breaking into smiles. “What a sweet gesture,” someone remarked, pouring a cup.

“Charming and thoughtful,” another added, while Mr. Chaudhry shot them a disapproving glare.

---

The HR rep finally guided Nasr to Nuha’s office. The room was minimalist yet imposing, with a sleek wooden desk, bookshelves lining one wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a panoramic view of Dubai’s skyline. Today, the skyscrapers were framed by a cloudy sky, an unusual sight in the city.

Nuha was seated behind her desk, her laptop open as she reviewed emails. She didn’t look up immediately, but Nasr could sense her presence radiating authority.

“Ms. Nuha,” the HR rep began, “this is Nasr, your new secretary.”

Nuha glanced up, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp. “Good morning,” Nasr said, his voice steady and cheerful. “I’m excited to work under your guidance.”

Nuha’s gaze flickered briefly, registering the commotion she’d heard earlier on the floor. She hadn’t shown it, but the chatter had grated on her nerves. Still, she nodded. “Good morning, Nasr. Take a seat. Let’s discuss your responsibilities.”

Nasr sat across from her, his hands resting neatly on his lap. Nuha outlined his tasks, her tone professional and brisk. “Your primary role is to manage my schedule, coordinate meetings, and ensure all correspondence is handled efficiently. Accuracy and discretion are non-negotiable here.”

“Yes, madam,” Nasr replied earnestly.

Nuha raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need to call me madam. Ms. Nuha will suffice.”

He nodded, adjusting quickly. “Of course, Ms. Nuha.”

Throughout the orientation, Nasr noticed how Nuha kept her demeanor impeccably professional. She didn’t betray a single flicker of emotion—calm, composed, and utterly unreadable. Determined to break the ice, he leaned forward slightly.

“Would you like some chai, Ms. Nuha?” he offered, a friendly smile lighting up his face. “I made it this morning.”

Nuha’s gaze shifted from his face to the cup he held out, then back to her own coffee mug on the desk. “I’ll stick to my coffee, thank you.” Her voice was polite but firm, a subtle rejection.

Undeterred, Nasr leaned back, still smiling. Nuha regarded him for a moment before speaking, her words carefully chosen.

“A word of advice, Nasr,” she said. “In this industry—and in life—it’s easy to come across people who attach themselves to others for their own gain. It’s important to know the difference between genuine goodwill and opportunism.”

Nasr nodded, sensing the weight behind her words. “I understand, Ms. Nuha,” he said sincerely. “I’ll do my best to prove myself here.”

Nuha’s expression softened almost imperceptibly, and she gestured toward the door. “Good. You can start by familiarizing yourself with my calendar and setting up the meeting notes for this afternoon.”

As Nasr exited the office, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. He had taken his first step into this world, and he was ready to show them—Mr. Chaudhry included—that he belonged here.

---

Nuha's office was a hive of concentration as she sat at her desk, earphones on, engaged in a virtual meeting with designers from across the globe. Her focus was razor-sharp, eyes scanning sketches and fabric samples on her screen as she discussed final touches for Libaas’s upcoming winter collection.

The door swung open without warning, startling Nasr, who was stationed outside, organizing her afternoon schedule. His head shot up to see a tall woman striding into the office with a determined look. Her sleek hair flew behind her like a storm as she barged in, heels clicking sharply against the polished floor.

“Ma’am, you can’t—” Nasr began, stepping forward to intercept her.

Zoya ignored him completely, her lips pressed into a thin line as she marched directly to Nuha’s desk and planted herself into the chair opposite, crossing her arms.

Nuha looked up calmly, her sharp gaze first landing on Zoya, then on Nasr, who stood behind her with an apologetic expression. She held up a finger to pause the conversation in her meeting, muted her microphone, and removed one earphone.

“Ms. Zoya,” Nuha said, her tone professionally detached, “please wait outside. I will attend to you in thirty minutes.”

Zoya opened her mouth to protest, but Nuha’s expression stopped her. It wasn’t hostile, but it radiated a firm authority that brooked no argument.

Nasr, sensing the tension, quickly stepped forward. “This way, ma’am,” he said, gesturing toward the door.

Zoya stood reluctantly, glancing over her shoulder at Nuha before allowing Nasr to escort her out. The door clicked shut behind them, and the hum of the office resumed.

---

Once the meeting concluded, Nuha leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples to dispel the tension building in her head. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her jaw tight. Interruptions like these tested her patience, and Zoya’s entitled behavior only added to the pile of frustrations she was already dealing with.

“Ms. Nuha,” Nasr’s voice came from outside the door. He stepped in, his posture polite but uneasy. “Ms. Zoya is here, demanding a wedding fit check.”

Nuha stood, smoothing her blazer as she prepared herself for the interaction. Her expression was controlled, but Nasr didn’t miss the flicker of irritation in her eyes.

“Bring her in,” Nuha said, her voice measured.

Nasr nodded and returned moments later with Zoya, who sauntered in as though she owned the place. Nuha stayed standing, her arms loosely crossed, waiting for Zoya to explain herself.

“Nuha,” Zoya began, skipping any pleasantries. “We need to finalize the fitting for my wedding dress. The timeline is tight, and I can’t have any delays.”

Nuha raised an eyebrow, her lips pressed into a neutral line. “Ms. Zoya, this is your first time showing up in two weeks. I assumed you’d lost interest in the dress altogether.”

Zoya blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “I’ve been busy with wedding preparations,” she said defensively. “That’s why I’m here now, to make sure everything is on track.”

Nuha sighed inwardly, masking her exasperation. “Let’s review the fitting schedule,” she said, gesturing for Nasr to retrieve the necessary files.

Nasr handed Nuha the folder, his movements precise and efficient. Zoya’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before she turned her attention back to Nuha.

“You have two fitting sessions left before the final dress is ready,” Nuha said, her tone clipped but professional. “If you miss another appointment, there will be no dress.”

Zoya’s jaw tightened, but she nodded, realizing Nuha wasn’t going to budge. “Fine,” she muttered.

“Good,” Nuha replied, closing the folder. “I’ll have the design team set up the fitting room. Nasr will assist you with scheduling your next appointment.”

Zoya gave a curt nod, standing to leave. Nasr held the door open for her, glancing back at Nuha with a silent question in his eyes. Nuha shook her head slightly, a signal that there was no need for further discussion.

As the door closed behind Zoya, Nuha exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. She glanced at Nasr, who returned to his desk to organize the fitting schedule.

“Ms. Nuha,” he said quietly, looking up, “should I have stopped her earlier?”

Nuha tilted her head thoughtfully. “You handled it well,” she said, a hint of warmth breaking through her professional demeanor. “But next time, remind her that respect for time goes both ways.”

Nasr nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. He had passed another challenge in his new role, and Nuha, despite her composed exterior, couldn’t help but feel that he was learning quickly.