It began, as many stories do, with a lie. Or rather, with a misunderstanding so profound, it would echo through the campus group chats for weeks.
The Singhania car arrived at exactly 11:30 a.m.—a matte black Mercedes that looked like it knew too much and would never spill a secret. It purred to a stop at the front gates of the training center, causing three boys to walk into a tree, two to fall off a bench, and a girl to say, “Oh God, she’s back,” in a tone that suggested either fear or lust. Or both.
Because out stepped Vanya Singhania.
The CEO. The Queen. The Ice Monarch.
In tailored navy trousers, a dark maroon blouse, and that signature no-nonsense bun, she looked like she’d come to shut down the campus—or acquire it. But truthfully? She was there for something far more terrifying.
She was there to ask Ira out on a date.
The Plan (Aka: Operation Don’t Look Desperate)
Dev had begged her not to be weird about it.
“Just be chill. Ask her to coffee. No press conferences. No ‘positioning synergy’ language.”
Vanya had nodded.
She now walked in with the relaxed gait of a woman about to conduct a billion-rupee merger. So... not chill.
The receptionist blinked up at her.
“You’re here for...?”
“I’m here to speak with Miss Ira Rathore. We met during my last visit. I was... impressed.”11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBcc0SN8Epj
(Pause)11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAjc6qaHhij
“By her presentation,” she added quickly.
The receptionist, who had read every campus group chat update, tried not to grin.
“Of course. She’ll be down in five minutes.”
“Thank you.”11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZOuDhHfCO4
(Composed. Casual. Ultra-professional. Definitely not a woman spiraling internally.)
Meanwhile, in the Girls' Lounge
“Ira!” Aditi rushed in like she'd just spotted a UFO. “She’s here. The CEO.”
Ira looked up from her laptop, expression unreadable. “Again?”
“She’s asking for you.”
Ira blinked. “Me?”
The other girls screamed internally.
“She’s into you, you idiot,” someone hissed from the corner.
But Ira, adjusting her hoodie, just frowned and think. “Is this a follow-up for a potential job? Should I wear a formal jacket or...?”
The Not-Date Begins
They met in a private meeting room on the top floor, glass walls, skyline view, a kettle of green tea politely steaming between them.
Ira walked in, still wearing her maroon hoodie (her presentation hoodie, no less), paired with grey jeans and confidence.
“Miss Singhania,” she nodded. “Thank you for taking time. I wasn’t sure what this was about, but I’m honored either way.”
Vanya stood and offered her hand. “Call me Vanya. And this isn’t formal. Just wanted to... chat.”
Ira sat, polite and upright. “About the tech division in your firm?”
(Vanya died internally.)11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN94im0UAcW
“Sure... eventually,” she smiled. “Let’s talk about you first.”
“Right,” Ira said, nodding earnestly. “I’ll keep it brief. I’m currently exploring cybersecurity frameworks that blend psychological patterns with backend data prediction. I’m also contributing to a local non-profit that builds safe access apps for women in remote areas.”
Vanya blinked. “You... do that in your free time?”
“Yeah,” Ira shrugged. “Keeps me from being bored.”
Vanya took a very slow sip of tea to prevent herself from proposing marriage on the spot.
Meanwhile, Outside the Glass Room
Arav and Tisha were watching the entire conversation unfold from a live Zoom call Dev had sneakily joined from Vanya’s iPad.
“Why is she talking about data migration patterns?”11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7IbqUrmXRz
“Maye she is thinking it's an interview!”11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRcbOXMYPK9
“OH MY GOD, someone tell her she’s being courted!”
Aditi, in the hallway, whisper-screamed to a passing intern: “Bro, she thinks she’s getting a job offer. She has no idea she’s being flirted with in CEO language.”
Back Inside the Room of Miscommunication
Vanya leaned forward slightly. “So, tell me... What does someone like you look for, Ira?”
Ira paused. “In a company?”
Vanya: No. In a girlfriend. A soulmate. A human. Anyone. But sure.
“...Sure. That too,” she said, smiling tightly.
Ira shrugged, casually elegant. “I think the environment should feel honest. Transparent. Like... when someone talks to you, you know they're not faking it. I value that. Even outside work.”
Vanya exhaled slowly.
“That’s rare.”
“You’re rare too,” Ira said calmly.
Vanya blinked.
“Sorry, I meant your presence,” Ira added quickly. “Like... your leadership presence. It’s grounded. Direct. People must find it intimidating and magnetic at the same time.”
“Do you?” Vanya asked, voice low.
Ira tilted her head. “I find it... fascinating. Makes it easier to focus.”
Déjà vu.
That line again.
And Vanya?
Completely. Gone.
Her brain did the Mac loading wheel.
Aftermath
Ira stood. “Thank you for this... informational meeting. If your company does open a position, I’d be very interested.”
She extended her hand again.
Vanya shook it.
“We’ll... be in touch.”
Ira gave a soft smile. “Also, you smell expensive. I mean that in a respectful way.”
“You... what?”
“Like sandalwood and panic,” Ira said, half-laughing. “It’s oddly comforting.”
And then she left.
Just like that.
Like she hadn’t just thrown a linguistic grenade into Vanya Singhania’s chest cavity.
Outside – The Crowd Waits
As soon as Ira stepped out, the girls mobbed her.
“WHAT DID SHE SAY?”11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN9HTJGMnHI
“DID YOU KISS?”11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoi90LAPdA7
“WAS THERE LONGING? LONGING EYE CONTACT?”11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡflOsPdb6Qm
“PLEASE TELL ME SHE ASKED FOR YOUR NUMBER.”
Ira blinked. “No, but I think there’s a job interview in the future. Maybe in cybersecurity or data analysis. Honestly, I might have a shot.”
They all stared.
Tisha whispered: “She doesn’t deserve to be this hot and this dumb.”
In the Car
Dev looked over at Vanya, who hadn’t spoken in five straight minutes.
“So how did it go?”
“She thinks I want to hire her.”
“And you still want to date her?”
“...Dev. She told me I smell like sandalwood and panic. I don’t care what she thinks this was. I’m marrying that woman.”
Scene: Singhania Residence – Still That Same Night
The house hadn’t recovered.
Dev was still gasping on the floor like he’d just won a stand-up comedy special.
Arav had tears in his eyes from laughing too hard.
Trisha was halfway through updating the family group chat with:
“Vanya got emotionally dropkicked by an oblivious goddess named Ira, more details to follow.”
Vanya, CEO of Singhania Group, destroyer of corporate nonsense, was now curled up on the edge of the couch with a cushion over her face.
“She thinks I’m offering her a job,” she groaned into the fabric. “A JOB, Dev.”
Dev wiped a tear. “That’s the thing. You are offering her a job. A full-time role as your emotional support person-slash-wife.”
“Shut up.”
“No, no, let’s recap again,” Trisha said, flipping her phone toward her. “So, you go there to flirt. To ask her out. You sit across from her. You stare like a lovesick vampire. And she?”
“Starts giving a PowerPoint-worthy monologue about backend security,” Dev supplied.
“And then calls you rare. Says your presence makes it easier to focus. Like she’s ordering a sandwich.”
“Then thanks you for your time like it’s an appraisal review,” Arav added.
“AND” Dev raised a hand for dramatic pause, “says—and I quote— ‘You smell like sandalwood and panic. It’s oddly comforting.”
Vanya let out a muffled, dying sound into the pillow. It could’ve been a scream. Or a prayer.
“Oh my God,” Trisha whispered grinning, “Ira says your smell is oddly comforting.”
“I can’t live like this,” Vanya whispered.
Arav—Now in Full Chaos Mode
He picked up a coaster and slammed it onto the table.
“From now on, every romantic compliment in this family must go through Ira. She’s set the bar.”
“She doesn’t even know she’s flirting,” Vanya growled. “She thinks we bonded over motion sensors!”
“You did, though,” Dev shrugged. “She motion-sensored her way right into your central nervous system.”
The Breakdown
Vanya stood up abruptly.
“I’m a functioning adult. I lead teams across five countries. I’ve faced government panels, courtroom cross-examinations, hostile takeovers—”
“—and one soft-voiced hoodie-wearing tomboy has you writing poetry on your Post-its,” Trisha muttered.
“SHE SAID I SMELLED LIKE SANDALWOOD AND PANIC,” Arav shouted, throwing the cushion across the room.
Everyone went quiet.
Dev blinked.
Arav opened his mouth.
Trisha said, very slowly:
“That’s... the most romantic compliment I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Dev slumped dramatically onto the carpet.
“That woman is a walking slow-burn lesbian romance novel and you’re not even in the acknowledgments yet.”
And Then…
Vanya sat back down, defeated. Silent for a while.
Then quietly:
“What do I do now?”
Dev smirked. “You have two options.”
“Option one: actually offer her a job so she’s forced to work under you.”
“No.”
“Option two: ask her on a very clear, very obvious date. And maybe warn her first so she doesn’t bring a presentation about AI crime prediction again.”
“And say what?”
“I don’t know, something soft. Like— ‘Ira, would you like to get coffee sometime without an HDMI cable involved?’”
Arav gave a thumb-up.
“Make her say that line again. The ‘sandalwood’ one. But this time with a red wine in her hand.”
Vanya groaned again and reached for her phone.
Trisha leaned in.
“Are you texting her?”
“No.”
“You’re texting her.”
“...Maybe.”
Dev clapped.
“YES! Operation ‘From HR to Heart Rate’ is a go!”
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAHOIQDg2WO
