The office was its usual mess of ringing phones, coffee cups clinking, and the distant hum of the AC struggling against Bangalore’s heat.

I was heading to my desk, minding my own business, when Mehta sir appeared out of nowhere, looking absurdly relieved to see me.

That was never a good sign.

“Vihaan, good timing,” he said, shoving a thick folder into my hands. “You and Mehul will be handling the Delhi expansion proposal together.”

…Excuse me?

I barely had time to process this before I spotted Mehul at the other end of the floor—already flipping through a similar folder, calm as ever.

Mr. Mehta clapped his hands together. “The structure and initial presentation should be ready by Friday. Coordinate with each other.”

And just like that, he walked off, abandoning me.

I turned to Mehul, who was standing near the conference room now, expression unreadable.

"Did you know about this?" I asked, stepping toward him.

He nodded, not looking up from the file. “Mehta sir informed me earlier.”

…Okay. Rude. Where was my warning?

“So, thoughts?” I asked. “Strategy? Plan?”

Mehul barely lifted his head. “I already started the financial analysis. You take the presentation slides.”

I blinked. Did this guy ever discuss things before making decisions?

He must’ve noticed my silence because he finally looked at me—amber eyes sharp and unreadable.

“Do you want a discussion?” he asked, voice flat.

Something about the way he said it made my heart do a stupid thing.

I wasn’t sure if it was the rare acknowledgment or the fact that he actually sounded like he was giving me a choice.

“…I mean, yeah?”

A pause.

Then, in the slowest, most reluctant way possible, Mehul shut his laptop.

“…Fine. Let’s discuss.”

I shouldn’t have felt victorious. But I did.

Quickly grabbing my chair, I fought the ridiculous smile threatening to appear.

The conference room was quiet, except for the soft hum of the AC and the tapping of our keyboards.

Mehul was ridiculously fast.

While I was still formatting the slides, he had already cross-checked the financial projections twice.

The guy was a machine.

I leaned back in my chair, stretching. “Do you ever slow down?”

Mehul didn’t look up. “No.”

Of course.

I stretched my arms dramatically. “Chai break?”

“No.”

I scoffed. “Do you ever say yes to anything?”

Mehul finally glanced at me, eyebrow slightly raised. “Not to unnecessary distractions.”

I placed a dramatic hand on my chest. “Wow. Calling me unnecessary?”

No reaction.

Then, without a word, he turned his laptop screen toward me.

“The client prefers minimal slides. Reduce the transitions,” he said.

I stared at the screen, caught off guard.

I expected him to just do his part and ignore mine, but instead… he was actually working with me.

Something about that felt different.

I swallowed, nodding. “Got it.”

Mehul hummed, going back to his screen.

The only sound in the room was the soft clicking of keys.

And for the first time, we worked in sync.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.