Irtaza watched her stepping out from her car. She struggled with her dupatta and a smile touched his lips. Ever so clumsy, Ms. Hussain frowned hard as her mother passed her a disapproving look. Irtaza had been in his study, having a strong cup of coffee before heading downstairs to attend his sister' s Mehndi.

The study's window looked out over the parking and so he had been amusing himself watching the people arrive. When Zoya had stepped down she had looked up at the glamour and the sparkles of his home, tilting her face up in the same manner she had done while enjoying that ice-cream few months ago. The light falling onto her skin was giving her twinkling glow. Sucking the breath and the rational thoughts out of him.

It was getting ridiculous. It would be self-delusional of him if said he didn't find her desirable. Damn he didn't even like her. She was too naïve, sometimes too judgmental, indecisive and a talker. Her forehead was a little too wide (just so perfect to plant his lips and kiss her forehead every time she had one of those meltdowns.) And her eyes a little too big, sparkled every time she looked at the people she loved. Her mouth that was perfect, vexed him with its endless stream of funny non curse insults. A surprise for both of them.

MashAllah. He whispered as he eyed her with desire.

Irtaza shuddered. What was he thinking? He wanted to lock himself in an asylum for entertaining such thoughts. He was looking for a mature, elegant woman. Zoya was neither mature nor elegant? He laughed. She was opposite of it. Yet he couldn't deny that she had been plaguing his mind and his diary- that lately had become all about her. Collapsing in his chair he gulped coffee. He had it bad even though he didn't want to admit it.

He couldn't deny he had dreamed of her. He had been so furious with her over her immature texts that he could barely respond. She was far too opinionated and such an overthinking toad! Toad? Swan! He corrected himself.

She had helped him see the right in that matter. His Meenu really was happy, and the happiness of the family was all that mattered to him.

He tried not to remember that dream. Specifically, he tried not to remember the details of the dream—the smile she had passed him as her eyes caught his. She had been sitting on the table with his mother sipping 'chai'. Her 'chaiholic' mother's eyes were sparkling, content to have a chai partner. He who had been sitting on the sofa, had looked over to find her looking at him. And then she gave him that dazzling smile. A smile so bright that he woke up panting!

It was a peaceful dream but the moment he had woken up it had all felt like a nightmare. The memory always left him feeling disoriented. Memory? Ha. It wasn't even a real memory. Just a dream, he reminded himself. Just a dream.

He couldn't help how she made her blood rush. Or how her thoughts never left his mind. 4 months! He had seen her after 4 months, a week ago but never a day had passed, that he wasn't reminded of her. From Imagine dragons to the stray cats he had started feeding with the leftovers, everything reminded him of her.

Shaking his head he stood up from the chair, straightening his shoulders as if he were arming himself for the battle. Uh-oh, that was how he felt. If he was lucky, he would be able to avoid all the women his mother had lined up from him and her. He had to avoid her too, because his heart kept telling him that she was the one for him. His brain wasn't ready to accept that.

Zoya knew the second, he walked into the garden where all festivities were taking place. She tried to tell herself that it was nothing. Awareness of the man and her humongous crush on him weren't real. All of it had to do with the fact that he was incredibly handsome causing uproar among all the single ladies.

She with the rest of the ladies eyed him. The plain cream kurta he had been wearing with the waistcoat that had floral motives made him look shahana (majestic). The beard made him look more intense. He didn't look her way and she was glad. A lie! She was so disappointed and dismayed that she refused the kashmiri chai that was offered to her by the waiter. She didn't want him to catch her eyeing him. But she also couldn't help but look at him. The yellow lights were giving everything a romantic glow.

Zoya tried to keep her eyes off from the girl in baby blue who had been acting a little too friendly with him. Her disposition was not improved instead it worsened when she noticed that he was equally fascinated by the lady in blue sari.

Why it bothered Zoya so much, she didn't know. Why was she feeling this possessive streak? She should be feeling vindicated that he had finally changed his thoughts about marriage. The lady looked his type, elegant and graceful. She stood tall beside him, with her hair in a sleek bun screaming chic. Disappointment washed over her. There was this uncomfortable feeling around her heart that made her want to slump and disappear into the crowd.

She watched them exchange smiles. And she felt disgusted. He hadn't even showed her the common decency of greeting. She was a guest. Instead, he stood few feet away cracking jokes with the girl in blue sari completely oblivious of her. Despite the disgust she still couldn't stop staring. The lady leaned forward whispering something in his ears and Zoya could kill to hear the conversation notwithstanding her decision on eaves dropping. Then the charm girl reached out and tucked at his collar. WHATS WITH THE PDA? Zoya shivered with envy. Now he was leaning forward whispering something in her ear.

Thori se bhi sharam hai is banday ko? (Does this man have any shame?) His mother was sitting just beside Zoya and if Zoya could see it, so could she. A little decorum in the company of family would have been very much appreciated.

"Zoya? Zoya?"

Ya Allah why am I feeling bad. It isn't that I was in love with him.

I am feeling bad because he lectures me aur khud kya kar raha hai! Yeh insan!

"Zoya!"

"Haan! Jee?" Zoya nearly jumped out of the sofa as she whirled around to face Alizey who was her only friend attending the mehndi apart from Meena, the bride herself.

"Stop watching Irtaza.," Alizey hissed with an irritated expression.

"I wasn't watching him. I was watching the lady in blue sari. Did you see them? I mean her. Her sari is gorgeous. I wonder where she got it from?" Zoya whispered. She looked back at that spot to find them gone.

Alizey's lips pursed into a tight line before she said, "You need to work on the lying. You hate sleeveless and backless blouses."

"I don't like them from myself. But I can appreciate others if they are wearing it. No?"

"Well, stop watching him like a jealous girlfriend. Chalo, Kainat aur Fazeela ko video call kartay hain." (Lets video call Kainat and Fazeela)

Zoya felt her shoulders sag. Alizey grasped her arm with a grip that tolerated no protest. "Chalo Zoe" she said quietly and Zoya followed.

Kainat and Fazeela couldn't attend the wedding despite being invited by Meena. Karachi was too far away from Fazeela and Kainat was busy somewhere in Europe. Alizey's hand firmly held Zoya's as she guided her forcing her to meet the guest. She introduced Zoya to all her 'susural walay.' (in-laws)

Finally they reached the front of a small crowd where Hashim grasped Alizey's hand. "Mrs. Hashim" he said warmly, "what a delight to see you again. Have you seen my wife?" He asked and Zoya rolled her eyes inwardly at their romance.

Kya cringe hai yeh log. Uff

"Nai mainay nai dekhi (I haven't seen her) Maybe my friend Zoya can help you." Alizey replied as she motioned for Zoya, who stepped forward.

"Zoe, who Aunty Musrat is looking for you." He said as he winked. He knew she had been hiding from his Musrat Khala since his wedding. She didn't want to marry Musrat Khala's rich brat who just knew how to waste and plunder his dad's wealth.

"Yaar tum dono karo yeh apna sasta romance, main jaa rahi hoon chupnay. Alizey please Aunty Mustarat ko mama say door rakhna." Zoya begged before she slipped away.

(You keep up with the cheap romance, time to find hideout. Alizey, please keep Mama away from Musarat Aunty.)

She darted out of the garden into the home. She began staring at the pictures on the gallery which she hadn't seen when she had earlier visited their home because Irtaza had been watching her keenly. But now with no one eyeing her like a hawk, watching her every move. Now, she was free to stare at them.

She marched through the gallery and sagged on the sofa in the hall. She remained there for several minutes. Her feet were killing her, so she removed the heels, she was forced to wear. Zoya was enjoying her time alone in the hall, recharging her social battery when she heard that one particular voice over the music.

God, he was coming inside. And how he was going to find her perched on his sofa while her heels lied on the floor.

"Oh shit" She cursed trying to keep her voice to herself. The last thing she wanted was a lecture of mannerlessness from him. She knew he was going to assume that she had fled the crowd because she was a social failure. It was all true, but he was no one to point that out.

Tired and exhausted, she didn't feel like facing him. The truth was he had ignored her and now she wanted to return the favor, so she picked up her heels and ducked into the nearest room.

The room turned out to be a well-kept study. And damn she was in awe of the wooden interior and the smell of the books. Dropping her heels in the corner, she began inspecting the room.

The light escaping through the curtains was enough for her to make things outs of the darkness. The walls were lined with the books. The room was dominated by a massive wooden desk. Papers laid on the top of it in neat piles. The pens were placed in the holder.

Zoya wandered towards the desk as her curiosity go the best of her. Idly running her fingers over the well-kept files, she traced the initials on it. The room was lovely. Comfortable and practical. She shouldn't be snooping; it was bad manners, but she couldn't help it. She was about to turn the boss chair and sit on it when she heard an awfully close sound.

The footsteps approaching!

With a frenetic gasp, she dove under the desk squeezing herself into the empty space. She heard the click of a doorknob as the footsteps drew closer.

Barely breathing, she listened as someone turned the lights on.

"Great office you have set up, here." said a feminine voice with thick accent.

Zoya bit her lips as she silently prayed to Allah to not get caught.

"Thank you! I wasn't planning on staying. You know that. I just figured that home office was a necessity." came the unmistakable voice of Esquire Irtaza Haider Awan.

Zoya shut her eyes in agony. Of course, it was his office. And he had to come up here leaving the guest downstairs. God damn, she would be discovered any moment. And it would be worse. So much worse if the duo began the love talk. Geez, she wouldn't be able to digest that. What was it with her and finding the Awan siblings doing the hanky panky and 'love dovey' chit chats.

"Who was the girl in mustard downstairs?" the woman asked and Zoya stared down here at her mustard jora.

There was silence. Funny! But she knew he shrugged.

"Didn't seem like no one important." She replied.

Zoya heard him chuckled. "Zara, stop going whole lawyer on me." He replied.

What only you could interrogate huh? JAWAB DO USKO (Answer her question) Zoya wanted to shout. If she wasn't squatting under the table, she might have emerged and demanded an answer.

"I think she is cute. And so much better than Ayesha! Keep her! " Zara declared.

Oh dear Zara, I am sorry I wanted to declaw you earlier. I suppose I like you. And umm, you are right. I am cute. I try to be hot, but I always end up being cute. Koi nai cute bhi koi gali nai hai. (Cute is not a curse)

Yes, I am better.

But who is Ayesha? Ayesha?

And keep her? What do you mean keep her! I am not some kind of toy or a pet that he can keep! HELLO!!!!

She didn't know any Ayesha. It was taking all her self-control. She wanted to ask who Ayesha was really bad.

She heard the footsteps getting closer. If he got to his chair, he'd know.......

Zoya froze. Utterly froze. Held her breathing. She watched with horror as his legs came into view. Don't look down. Don't look down. And please don't pull the chair. She was silently praying.

"Is everything alright?" Zara asked.

"Hmmm" he replied sounding distracted.

Irtaza had brought Zara to his study to hand over the case files to her. He had no intention or mood of discussing Zoya Hussain. He didn't know why he had asked Zara to tuck his collar downstairs when he had noticed a little someone eyeing him with animosity. It had brought him immense peace.

Irtaza shuddered. The woman had him bewitched. There was no other explanation for he could swear he could smell her perfume. It was that maddening beguiling scent of lilies, he assumed were her favorite flowers. That assumption had appeared to be spot on given her reaction to the bouquet. He knew Zara preferred sandalwood since he had gifted her perfumes over the last decades. It was definitely her. But how and why was his study smelling like her?

He turned towards his desk and took a step forward trying to find the file when that damn scent of lilies hit him again. His foot hesitated in mid-air. He couldn't escape the smell. Twisting his eyes, he looked around the room scanning it for her. She was nowhere. He was about to get back to work until his eyes fell on the pair of discarded heels lying by the side of door. Ofcourse! She is here somewhere!

And then he saw her. Under his desk. With her eyes closed tight.

It was impossible. She was impossible.

He closed his eyes and then opened them again, hoping that she would be gone. She was still there. Zoya Hussain the most irrational, immature, and naïve but the purest of all women in whole of the universe was crouching under his desk.

It was a wonder he didn't cause an uproar. What the hell was she doing here? Was she spying on him? God, where is my diary? Did she get her hands on it? Oh f***! NO please! He shook his head; she couldn't have read it. If she had, she wouldn't be hiding.

She looked kinda cute though. Like a frightened little kitten, her arms wrapped around herself, she sat there still. He was going to enjoy confronting her. He really was going to love it.

"Zara," he said smoothly, "here are the files. Why don't you just take them with you and enjoy the function. We will discuss the case after you have studied it."

"Are you kidding? The workaholic Irtaza is asking me to enjoy my evening?" She asked sounding dubious.

" Yes because it not just any evening. It's my sister's Mehndi. And I can't be discussing cases during it."

Zara blinked finding the whole situation strange.

"Irtaza? Sub thek hai na?" (Everything alright?) She inquired.

"Yes... everything is alright. Chalo neechay chalain(Lets go, downstairs)", he said as he walked her to the door.

She stepped through the door he held open for her.

Zoya heard the door shut with a decisive click. Taking a breath of relief, she thanked her lucky star for not getting discovered.

Shukar! Ajj tu pakri he gae the. (I nearly got caught today) She muttered as she scooted out of the desk. Standing she came face to face with the devil who was leaning against the door. Her lips let out a surprised squeal. Inadvertently she placed her hand on mouth to avoid the sound from escaping but it was a sorry cause.

His arms folded against his chest ,he gave a pained smiled forcing her to gulp the bile that rose in her throat.

"Explain yourself," he hissed.

"It was an accident" , she said grabbing the edge of the desk for support. Her legs had refused to carry the weight and kept buckling.

"Ofcourse, it was. With you it always its."

"I swear to God, main yahan nai ana chati the(I didn't want to come here)." She protested. "I was sitting in the hall and-" she gulped as she saw him approach. He was now close. Awfully close. "I was sitting in the hall," she repeated, her voice came out hoarse. "Trying to avoid people...." She sucked in her breath. He had moved closer. She knew he had been doing it to intimidate her. But he didn't need to. He had this stupid power over her that made her confess without any intimidation.

"And then you decided to snoop into my office." He murmured.

She shook her head vigorously. Her neck was hurting from staring at his face.

"Hmmm? I say you were jealous and decided to act like a peeping tom." His breath was fanning her face.

"Jealous?" She repeated.

"Yes, envy jealousy!"

"I am not jealous types. Also, why would I be jealous. Hum apke hain kaun?"

"More like, hum apke hain kaun" He repeated.

He could feel the hurt in her voice as she whispered the last part.

Zoya waited for him to tell her that she was his friend. That she was special. But he didn't. It made her heart ache. And damn the proximity. He needed to step away otherwise she was going to faint. Her heart was thumping inside her ribcage.

Zoya parted her lips to deny but she couldn't have uttered a word if her life depended on it. The proximity had such a powerful effect on her body. She breathed when he looked away.

Zoya remained still for what seemed like an exceptionally long time. Her eyes locked on his, the skin on her cheek burned. Finally, she did something, she herself couldn't believe she did.

She begged.

"Please let me go?" She whispered.

"I am not the one holding you." He added softly.

"Are you not?"

He gave his head a small shake as he stepped away from her, holding his free hands in the air. "You are really letting me go?," she asked surprised. She had expected an insult or two.

"Go," he said affably, waving toward the door.

You aren't going to stop me?" He noticed her doubtful eyes and realized that she genuinely feared that he was going to.

He smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it."

She began to edge away, walking slowly backward, afraid that if she took her eyes off him for one second, he might pounce. "I'm leaving now" she said again, unnecessarily.

But when her hand was an inch away from the doorknob, he said, "You are forgetting something."

Zoya went white. Not that she could actually see her face, of course, but for the first time in her life, she actually felt the blood drain from her skin. "I knew it. Uff, why would you pretend otherwise? I hate this element of surprise. Get done with it jaldi say(quickly)..." she said accusingly.

Get done with it? Is that an invitation Zoya! Why cant you phrase your words without sounding dirty!

He took a few steps toward her, his movements slow and sleek like a cat. "Kuch bhol nai rahi app?" (Aren't you forgetting something)

"Main—(me)" But the words burned the back of her throat.

"Jee app(yes you)" he said, standing up straight and crossing his arms. Her eyes searched his and then lowered and then they were back on his face, hoping for some sort of clue.