“What a small world?!”

Brahmdev turned to his side to find a beautiful woman smiling at him. He studied her face for a moment, shaking up his memory, then said honestly, “Excuse me… do we know each other?”

The smile vanished in an instant from her face, her brows knitting into a silent frown.

He chuckled nervously, “Sorry. I’ve been a little forgetful these days.”

She forced a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We met at the hospital. You helped me with my bhaiyya’s insurance claim.”

“Ah!” Recognition finally struck. “Sharad ji, right?”

“Yes,” the word was clipped.

Brahmdev noticed it immediately.

That day, her smile had carried dimples - soft, almost reluctant. Today, they were absent after he missed to recognise her.

One of the reasons he hadn’t recognised her earlier was the transformation. Gone was the modest, tired woman from the hospital corridors. Tonight, she looked nothing short of a diva. Shimmering eyeshadow, bold pink lipstick, confidence draped over her like the beautiful Pashmina she wore over her shoulder.

“Aaradhna,” she added pointedly. “In case you don’t remember names anymore. Have you ever considered consulting a doctor...maybe?”

His brows shot up.

Oh, she was offended.

“We’re all getting old,” he said lightly, glancing at his friends who were now openly watching their exchange. Or was it a banter? “Memory lapses are part of the package.”

He could already tell these bastards would never let this go.

“Old?” she scoffed. “You might be, but don’t include me. I don’t consider myself old.”

“Is that so?” he countered smoothly. “Because I distinctly remember someone complaining about hospital staff not noticing how old and frail she was.” He tapped his chin. “Odd contradiction, don’t you think?”

Her lips finally curved into a real smile - dimples making a dramatic comeback. Brahmdev noticed how her pale blue eyes assessed him, curious and challenging, as if he were a rare artefact that had dared to provoke her.

Well, if she was picking a fight, he wasn’t backing down. The only women he had ever surrendered to were his wife and his daughter.

“Sir, hope everything is well?”

The moment shattered as Gauri Singh - his subordinate - stepped in, smiling brightly. “The caterers you suggested are absolutely amazing.”

“Yes, food is great, Brahma!” Mr. Yadav chimed in. “Especially the dahi bhallas, finger-licking good.”

“True!” a few others agreed enthusiastically.

Brahmdev patted Gauri’s head fondly.
“Anything for my cutest editor. It’s your engagement, how could I not get you the best deal?”

“Oh, you’re Gauri’s boss?”

That was Aaradhya... No... Aaradhna... Yes, Aaradhna.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice deeper than before.

“Makes sense,” she murmured, smiling to herself.

Gauri laughed a little, her eyes looking at them quizzically, “You two know each other?”

“Depends,” Aaradhna said sweetly, “on how much your boss remembers.”

Mr. Yadav and Mr. Pillai coughed, masking their laugh, clearly enjoying Brahmdev’s public roasting.

“Huh?” Gauri blinked, confused, before recovering quickly. “Oh! This is Mr. Sahni, my boss and, Editor-in-Chief of The India Rises.” She turned. “And this is Miss Agarwal, secretary of our society.”

“Oh,” Brahmdev said, extending his hand deliberately. “Must be difficult handling such a big responsibility, right?”

That was a clear sarcasm intended to tease her.

But Aaradhna didn't back away, she placed her hand in his and shook it gently. “It’s child’s play with a sharp memory,” she replied coolly. “I remember everyone’s name, where they live, every complaint and its solution.” She tilted her head. “Something you probably wouldn’t understand.”

Brahmdev held her hand a second longer than necessary, his eyes locking onto hers - half glare, half challenge. So much for gratitude. He could have spent that day with his daughter instead of helping her with insurance claim.

“Let go,” Mr. Pillai muttered near his ear. “You look like you’re going to injure her hand.”

Brahmdev released her hand immediately.

Aaradhna flexed her fingers, a faint wince crossing her face. She glared at him once, then smiled politely and turned away.

“I’ll ask Kailash to free himself and come meet you all,” Gauri announced cheerfully. “He needs to see my gang!”

Mr. Chauhan laughed. “She calls us a gang like we’re underworld agents.”

"Yeah, stop it kid!" Mr. Rajawat added.

“Uncool, uncles,” Mr. Pillai shrugged.

Conversation drifted on. More guests joined. Gauri excused herself.

But Brahmdev’s attention strayed.

He searched the room for a particular shade of blue.

And just when he thought he wouldn’t find it - there they were. Watching him from the stage.

Miss Aaradhna Agarwal.

Definitely a different species.

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