“Coffee se zyada kadwa attitude hai madam ka...”

---

“He’s still here?”

Anaya narrowed her eyes as she entered her office the next morning. Ruhan was at his desk, humming lightly while arranging sticky notes in rainbow color order.

The moment he saw her, he stood up straight.

“Good morning, ma’am!”

She didn’t reply. Just walked past him like he was the office plant.

Ruhan: 0 | CEO Ice Queen: 100

He let out a tiny sigh.

---

10 minutes later

“Ruhan.”

Her voice rang through the intercom.

He nearly dropped the pen. “Y-Yes, ma’am?”

“Coffee. No hazelnut this time. And no surprises.”

“On it, ma’am!” he chirped and ran.

---

In the office pantry

Ruhan carefully measured out the black coffee—double strong, no sugar, no cream, exactly like her file said.

“Yeh toh zehar jaisa taste karega,” he mumbled.

But he added a tiny heart doodle on the coffee cup with a sticky note:

"For the boss who never needs sugar—she already has spice."

He grinned at his own bravery, placed it on the tray, and walked back confidently.

---

Anaya’s Office

She took the coffee without looking up, took a sip...

And paused.

Her brows furrowed.

Crap. Did I mess up again? Ruhan froze in the doorway.

She looked at the sticky note. Her face unreadable. Then slowly looked up.

Ruhan smiled weakly. “Just a note to lighten the mood, ma’am.”

“What mood?”

He gulped.

“The… uh… powerful mood?”

She stood up. Walked towards him slowly, heels clicking.

“Mr. Malhotra,” she said, voice calm but dangerous, “do I look like someone who wants cartoon hearts on her cup?”

“No ma’am.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who needs ‘lightening up’?”

“Not even a little bit, ma’am,” he replied honestly.

She stared at him for an intense second and then simply said—

“Good. Next time, just bring the coffee. No creativity.”

“Yes ma’am.”

As he turned to leave, she added—

“And Ruhan?”

“Yes?”

“…You spelled ‘spice’ wrong.”

He froze.

Why did that sound almost… teasing?

---

10:30 AM – Conference Room

Board meeting. Anaya was presenting a major strategy to the investors. Everyone sat upright like school kids in front of the principal.

Ruhan stood quietly at the back, holding a notepad. Anaya had asked him to “observe silently.”

Halfway through her pitch, someone interrupted.

“Ms. Singh, this sounds overly ambitious. You're planning to increase market share by 30% in a quarter? That’s delusional.”

Everyone looked at the man—Mr. Kapoor, a senior board member and self-declared know-it-all.

Anaya smiled. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

She slowly turned to Kapoor and said, “Delusional would be hiring you again.”

There was stunned silence. Someone coughed to hide a laugh.

Kapoor flushed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’ve failed in every company you’ve touched. So forgive me if I don’t take business advice from a professional failure.”

Ruhan blinked. Damn. That was savage.

He scribbled in his notebook: “Note to self: never cross boss lady unless you have a will ready.”

---

Post-meeting

Anaya walked out with her usual elegance. Ruhan followed, impressed beyond words.

“Ma’am, that was epic.”

She glanced at him.

“That man’s been disrespecting me for years,” she said. “I don’t play nice anymore.”

“You shouldn’t. You’re amazing.”

She paused.

Compliments. Great. Now he’ll be fired.

But she didn’t say anything. Just walked faster.

Ruhan jogged a little to keep up.

“Ma’am, I—uh—I took notes during the meeting. Would you like to review them?”

She stopped, turned. “You were supposed to observe. Not write.”

“Habit,” he said. “Can I show you?”

She narrowed her eyes, took the notepad, and flipped through it.

She expected childish doodles or messy notes.

Instead, it was detailed. Bullet points. Clear formatting. Even timestamps of who said what.

She blinked.

“This is… accurate.”

Ruhan smiled. “I was a teacher, remember?”

She handed the notebook back, looking away.

“You’re not entirely useless.”

High praise from Anaya Singh.

---

1:00 PM – Lunch Hour

Ruhan sat in the cafeteria alone with his tiffin.

“Maa ke haath ke aloo ke parathe,” he whispered, opening the box.

He was halfway through his first bite when Priya, from PR, sat next to him.

“So you survived Day Two?” she grinned.

“Barely,” he chuckled.

“She’s scary, na?”

“She’s... strict. Cold. Like... arctic-level cold. But brilliant,” Ruhan admitted.

“Cute and respectful. Dangerous combo,” Priya teased.

Ruhan laughed.

“She’s interesting. And I think…” he paused.

“You think what?”

He smiled softly, watching Anaya walk past the glass corridor with her phone in hand, coat flowing like a cape.

“I think she’s not as cold as she pretends to be.”

Priya blinked. “Wow. You’re either a genius or you’ll be fired by Friday.”

“Both can be true.”

---

3:00 PM – Her Cabin

Anaya was reviewing files when she saw it.

A small box on her desk.

She frowned.

“Did someone seriously send me a gift?”

She opened it cautiously. Inside was a tiny stress ball shaped like a cactus. A sticky note stuck to it read:

“For the boss who’s sharp but soft somewhere deep inside. (Not that I said that!) – Ruhan”

She stared at it.

Then stared at the door.

Then—she smiled.

Only for a second.

Then quickly composed herself.

She picked up the intercom.

“Ruhan.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Come inside.”

He entered nervously.

“Yes ma’am?”

“What is this?” she held up the cactus ball.

“A… gift. For stress. I thought maybe—”

“Do you see anyone else in this company sending me gifts?”

“No ma’am.”

“Then why do you think you can?”

“I just... wanted you to have something nice.”

She looked at him long and hard.

And then said, “You're lucky I don’t fire people for being annoyingly thoughtful.”

He smiled.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

As he walked away, she looked at the cactus again.

Sharp... but soft somewhere deep inside.

She hated how accurate that was.

---

6:00 PM – End of Day

Anaya packed up her laptop.

Ruhan waited by the door. “Need me to drop something at your car, ma’am?”

“No.”

He nodded. “Alright. See you tomorrow.”

She turned, then paused.

“…Ruhan?”

“Yes?”

“You made the same spelling mistake on the sticky note again.”

He blinked. “Oh. Sorry, I—”

“And yet,” she interrupted, walking past, “the grammar was flawless.”

He frowned. “Wait… was that a compliment?”

But she was already gone.

---

Late Night – Her Apartment

Anaya sat in her high-rise apartment, lights low.

On her coffee table sat the cactus stress ball.

She hadn’t thrown it away.

She picked it up.

Squeezed it.

Smiled.

And whispered to herself:

“He’s different.”