Ishani sat down at the desk, alone now—separated from the others, positioned directly outside the glass wall of Raghav Khanna’s office.
Prominent. Exposed. Unavoidable.
She set her bag beneath the desk, straightened the monitor, and opened her system.
Raghav stepped off the private elevator at precisely eight o’clock. He paused briefly, observing the executive floor from the corridor before proceeding to his office.
Ishani sat at her desk outside his door, already working. Her fingers moved across the keyboard. She didn’t look up as he approached, though he knew she must have heard the elevator doors.
Interesting.
“Good morning, Boss,” she said, finally glancing up when he was three steps away. Not too eager, not too late. Her timing was precise.
“Morning.” He nodded once, noting she’d already signed into the system. The company logo rotated slowly on her secondary monitor while her primary display showed his calendar for the day.
He continued into his office.
Outside the glass, Ishani returned to her work, picking up where she’d left off.
Raghav noticed.
Most people checked. Adjusted. Waited for acknowledgement they pretended not to want.
He slipped out of his jacket and hung it in the built-in closet, movements automatic. When he glanced back through the glass, Ishani was organizing her desk.
Notebook squared to the keyboard. Pens aligned. Files set away without excess movement or second-guessing. There was no clutter, no personal items, only what she needed, exactly where she needed it.
It was efficient. Unshowy. Uncomfortably similar to what he did. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention.
He turned to his computer, letting it boot while his attention stayed where it shouldn’t.
Ishani adjusted her chair, raised the screen a little, lowered it again. Once satisfied, she settled in. When the phone rang, she picked it up on the second ring.
Raghav pressed the remote, easing his door open just enough for sound to carry.
Her voice drifted in—clear, composed, neither warm nor distant.
“Mr. Khanna’s office. This is Ishani Rao.”
A pause.
“I understand. Mr. Khanna’s schedule is full today. I can offer Thursday at two or Friday at eleven.”
Another pause. Her expression didn’t change.
“I appreciate your position,” she said calmly, “but those are the available options. Thursday or Friday?”
Firm. Clean. Final.
Raghav leaned back. The last assistant—Meera, Mira, something like that—had never managed this balance. Too accommodatingone week, defensive the next. Either way, everything slowed down.
Ishani ended the call, logged the details, and moved on without a beat, as if the next task had already been waiting for her.
When Ansh stopped by with a stack of files, Raghav found himself paying closer attention.
“These need Mr. Khanna’s signature by noon,” Ansh said, placing them on her desk. “They’re prioritized.”
“I’ll review them first,” Ishani replied, opening the top folder.
