Soon the car drive starts and Arjun increases the volume of the music.

I make a face at the rock music that blasts inside the car and turn my face towards the window to focus on the view outside.

Five minutes passes without either of us speaking before I finally revolt as the music becomes too unbearable for me.

"Can you turn the volume down? I mean if it's not a problem for you that is." I say and add the last sentence as soon as I realise it's his car and his ways will be tolerated inside it.

"Yes, sure." He says and lowers the volume.

"Not a fan of music?" He asks me a few moments later.

"Definitely a fan of music but not the loud one." I reply.

"Mehrotras don't listen to music unless it isn't loud." He tells me.

A small smile makes its way to my lips.

"My mother is the same. Papa and I on the other hand prefer something quiet and peaceful." I tell him.

"It's only the three of you in your family, right?" He asks.

"Yes, Ma, Papa and I. A family of three. Though sometimes I wish I lived in Delhi with my extended family." I tell him.

"And sometimes I wish I lived in a quieter place. I love the people who live in my house, no doubt, but I wish they were not so highly energetic twenty-four into seven." He tells me with a smile.

We remain silent for the next couple of minutes before I speak again.

"By the way, where are we going?" I ask him.

"To my apartment." He replies coolly.

"What? Why? I thought we're going to a cafe to discuss things?" I ask him, suddenly feeling panicked.

Why is he taking me to his apartment?

He isn't going to ask me for what I have been stressing about, is he?

"That's because Shravya I don't want to attract attention. Anywhere we go people will spot us and they will create unnecessary fuss and make all sorts of wrong conclusions. My apartment will be more private." He tells me.

"Oh okay. You must be living there with your family, right? I mean do all of them live there?" I ask him followed by a nervous smile.

"No they don't. I've recently bought it. There's a story behind that too which I'll tell you once we get there." He says. Listening to his statement, my body tenses. He lives there alone.

Suddenly Sneha's words ring in my mind and I immediately unlock my phone to send her a text.

However as soon as I open WhatsApp I'm bombarded by several messages from here.

Sneha : Hey, Shravya, where are you? Have you left for your meeting with Arjun Mehrotra?

What did he ask you for? It better not be what you have been stressing about!

One suspicious move from the guy and you give me a call, okay.

If you don't respond to these messages within half an hour I'll give you a call myself.

Also, now coming to the positive things, I hope you remember today's blind date location is Cafe Marbella, the one we usually go to. Your date's name starts with 'V' and he'll be wearing blue, your favourite colour. However many other people can be wearing blue there so I'm going to send him a selfie of you wearing whatever outfit you're wearing for this date. I'll crop your face obviously! Respond to my messages soon.

Relief washes over me as I read her messages and I begin responding to them immediately.

Shravya : I'm with Arjun right now. So far he hasn't done anything wrong. However I'll give you a call as soon as I suspect he's up to something.

Also, I'll reach Marbella by six and I'm sending you a picture soon.

P. S. This date better be worth working extra hard on weekend and sacrificing my sleep to complete all the files and reports before time.

I send her the message and lock my phone.

"Best friend again?" He asks me.

"Yes." I reply.

"Are you both plotting something against me?" He asks in a serious tone.

"What, no nothing of that sort is being done by us unless you do something wrong with me because my best friend is a karate champion and she's taught me a few moves too." I reply back trying to sound as serious and threatening as I possibly can.

Sneha had learnt Karate and was good at it but I hadn't learned any moves from her. I added that bit just to let him know that if he's planning on doing something wrong, I can give him a good beating.

"Of course." He says in response.

A couple of minutes later we get caught in traffic.

Soon a boy, a street child, starts knocking on his side of the window.

Arjun rolls the window down and passes the boy a smile after which he opens the glove compartment and takes out two packets of biscuits from there.

He hands it to the boy and asks him to share it with his friends.

"Ap Arjun Mehrotra hona? Aapki photo newspaper mein dekhi hai. Thank you Bhaiya." The boy says.

[Translation : You are Arjun Mehrotra right? I've seen your picture in the newspaper. Thank you.

Bhaiya : A term used to address an elder brother or someone like an elder brother.]

"Haan main wohi hoon. Aur thank you bolne ki koi zaroorat nahi. Isko apne friends ke saath baant kar khaana ." Arjun says in response and ruffles the boy's hair.

[Yes, I'm Arjun Mehrotra. And you don't need to thank me. Share these biscuits with your friends and eat them.]

He then rolls the window up and watches as the boy makes his way to the footpath at the opposite end.

The traffic signal turns green and Arjun starts driving again.

Whatever I just witnessed overwhelms my heart and I cannot help but look at Arjun with a smile on my face.

"I am handsome and I know Shravya, you don't have to make it obvious." He says and I sense the humor in his tone.

Instead of arguing with him I just shake my head and turn my face away looking outside the window with the smile still there on my face.

About ten minutes later Arjun stops his car in front of a multi-storey building.

"We're here." He tells me and drives inside.

When he's done parking his car in the parking lot he unfastens his seatbelt and gets out.

I unfasten my seatbelt too. In the meantime Arjun already reached my side and opened the door for me.

I get out and we make our way to the elevator.

He presses the button to the 17th floor and the elevator ride starts.

I fidget with my fingers while Arjun softly hums a tune.

A few moments later the elevator doors open on the seventeenth floor and we make our way outside.

Arjun reaches flat no. 17 (C) and unlocks it.

He opens the door and enters inside, me following him, with my heart hammering against my chest.

He switches the light on and a soft gasp escapes my lips.

It's so well furnished.

"Welcome to my humble abode." He whispers leaning down towards me.

I pass him a nervous smile and enter inside.

"Have a seat please." He says motioning towards one of the sofas while he switches the air conditioner on.

"Coffee? Cold drink? Water?" He asks me.

"But if you prefer tea I have to let you know, I never make it perfect. It's always either too strong or too high or too low in sugar." He adds with a small smile.

"No, it's completely alright. I'll have a glass of water, chilled if available." I tell him.

"A glass of chilled water coming right up." He tells me and walks away, to the kitchen most probably.

My shoulders instantly relax.

So far, so good.

I run my eyes around the space.

A minute later Arjun returns back with a glass of water and a bottle of some sort of energy drink.

He hands me the glass of water while opening the cap of his energy drink and starts drinking it.

I eye the way his Adam's apple bobs when the drink passes down and instantly look away.

I drink my glass of water in one gulp and put it down on the centre table in front of me.

"So, let's begin talking then?" I ask him as I eye the wall clock. 4.55 p.m.

"Yes, sure." He says and sets his drink down.

"I want you to cook for me." He announces.

"What?" I almost yell.

"I'll explain. I've been thrown out of my house for a week for breaking some rule. I'll be living here for a week while I try to convince Dadi to let me back in the Mehrotra mansion. Until then I'll need someone to cook for me because even though I run a chain of restaurants I can't cook to save my life." He tells me.

[Dadi : Grandmother]

"And you can't hire a maid or cook for that because?" I ask him.

"Dadi has her eyes on me. You'll be acting like an interior designer who comes to visit me everyday to discuss the interiors of my new restaurant but behind these closed doors no one will know you are cooking for me instead." He tells me.

"This is what you want from me in return? What if I say I don't know how to cook?" I tell him.

"You do." He announces.

I raise my eyebrow at him.

"I ran a few background checks on you before deciding what I'll be asking from you in return. It was going to be something completely different but then I got thrown out of my house on Thursday night and so this is it." He tells me.

"You ran a background check on me?" I ask.

"I had to know you were genuine and not some psycho stalker fan on mine." He tells me.

"I look like a psycho stalker?" I ask him, clenching my fists.

"A person has to be alert." He replies.

"How will we manage? I mean my working hours end at 6.30 p.m. and I report to my house by 7.30 on most days." I tell him changing the topic.

"All of that I've already arranged. I've asked Mrs. Mittal to let your working hours end at 5.30 for the coming week. At 5.30 I'll send a car that will pick you up from your office and drop you off at your place by 7.30." He tells me.

I remain silent for a whole minute to wrap everything around my head.

"What if your Dadi comes to know?" I ask him.

"She won't. Wait, I'll get you something." He says and starts walking away to a corridor.

A couple of minutes later he comes back with two thick folders in hand.

"I'll have these catalogue books kept in my car, the one that will come to pick you up and drop you. You just have to ask the driver to carry these whenever you enter and leave this building, okay?" He asks me.

I hesitantly nod my head.

"I'm not sure about this." I tell him.

"It's not going to be difficult. I've got everything covered. Also, now you just need to give me a place and time and I'll be there to meet your parents." He tells me.

Oh right. The root cause behind this all.

"Okay, I'll talk with my parents and let you know the details." I tell him.

"It can also be less than a week, depending mostly on how soon I'll be able to convince Dadi to let me back in." He tells me.

"What did you even do?" I ask him.

"I am not allowed to enter the kitchen at Mehrotra Mansion with the intention of cooking, it's rule number four on the list of rules that we have , there's a whole list of rules that family members need to follow in the Mehrotra mansion, MM as we call it. But I broke that rule and almost put our kitchen on fire while trying to make something for Dadi. Everyone at home had warned me against doing it but I did not listen to anyone. The kitchen is very precious to Dadi, my late grandfather had prepared the first dish we introduced when the Mehrotra group of restaurants just started there and I almost blew that kichen up. She was very mad when she got to know and as punishment, threw me out till the damages were repaired." He explains.

I look at him in shock.

"I offered to pay for the repairs but she got all the more angry after listening to that and now I'm here." He tells me.

"Okay, well..okay." I reply.

"I first thought of hiring a maid but sources from inside the Mehrotra mansion, my cousins, basically told me that Dadi is keeping her eyes on me." He tells me.

"Does she want you to starve the entire week?" I ask him.

"No obviously not, she wants me to learn cooking instead. It's not my cup of tea though, nor do I have the time so instead I thought of making a plan of my own and outsmarting her." He answers.

"Take out?" I ask him.

"Take out for a week? You wouldn't want our next meeting to be at a hospital right? With me being diagnosed with food poisoning?" He asks me.

"No, don't say that. I'll do it." I tell him.

"Thank you so much, Shravya, you don't know how relieved I am now." He tells me.

"And incase you were wondering none of the restaurants owned by my family will allow me to have food in them for a week. Dadi's instructions." He adds.

"Just be on time when you come to meet my parents." I tell him.

"Definitely." He replies.

"I'll get going now. I have somewhere to be." I tell him.

"I'll drop you off. Just give me a location." He tells me.

I eye the clock again.

5.30 p.m.

"Cafe Marbella, the one near my office." I tell him.

"Give me a minute, okay. Also, I'm the worst host ever, I did not even offer to get you something to eat." He tells me with a look of disappointment on his face.

"No, please don't bother. Now that I know about your exceptional cooking skills I'd rather not have something here. We don't want you to put my kitchen for a week to fire." I tell him with a laugh.

His ears turn red again and he passes me a sheepish smile.