Page 9 of Knot So Romantic

“What are you doing?” And then his mouth goes “Oh!” as he realizes I’ve ruined his shirt.

I quickly bend down to pick up the fallen mannequins, mumbling, “Probably not as dramatic as you saving me from drowning, but I think I saved your head.”

“What’s that?” he crouches next to me. We both go to pick up the same mannequin, and a small tug-of-war ensues until he lets it go. Not before I hear him murmur, “Nice,” as he eyes one of my dresses on the floor.

“I was trying to save your head,” I blurt out, then cringe at how it sounds.

“Hmm,” he grunts, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Interesting how we keep saving each other.”

I step back, flustered. “I promise I don’t usually greet clients this way.”

“Good to know,” he says dryly.

Just then, a giggle erupts behind us. My assistant’s seven-year-old peeks out, his hand covering his mouth as he attempts to stifle his laughter.

Rohit has just started going to preschool and accompanies Manjula to the boutique every day. When I interviewed Manjula, I was concerned when she mentioned that her son would spend the second half of the day at work with her. I worried that allowing a child into the boutique might not be a good idea. However, Rohit has proven to be exceptionally well-behaved. He’s found a little corner for himself by the window, where he plays with his toys and reads the picture books I bought him. Manjula is thrilled to have her son here, and Rohit is overjoyed to accompany her to the boutique. I’ve never regretted the decision.

Except now, I don’t know what to make of the current situation as Neel looks puzzled, taken aback by the sight of a child in the boutique.

“This is my assistant’s son, Rohit,” I explain.

Rohit gestures to the floor. “If I had made that mess, my mom would never let me come in here.”

I tousle his hair, smiling. “You’re absolutely right, Rohit! You’re smart. That’s why you stick to safe places.”

Rohit puffs out his chest proudly and points to Neel. “I think he’s not very smart.”

I suppress a laugh while Neel crouches down to Rohit’s eye level and gives his shoulder a friendly pat. “I’m Neel. And you’re right, that’s why it’s important to listen to her,” he says, looking at me.

Elena comes over, takes one look at the lipstick stain on his shirt, and bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, is that what I think it is?”

He puts a hand over the stain as if trying to cover up my handiwork. “It’s not that bad. It’ll come out.”

“Well, thank God you both are okay!” She turns to me with a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t put anything past Neel. He might have hit the bell if you hadn’t intervened. He’s always bumping into things,” she chuckles. “Funny story. One time, he was out for a jog early in the morning, not paying attention to his surroundings, and he unexpectedly collided with a low-hanging tree branch, leaving him with a cut on his forehead.”

“It’s not funny, and it was a scratch, not a cut,” Neel frowns, brushing aside a lock of hair that falls over his forehead absently.

He’s standing so close, and my stomach flips as I watch the way his fingers slide through the silky salt-and-pepper strands. I swallow hard, trying to control my sudden erratic breathing.

“Sorry, Neel, but it was a little funny,” Elena laughs. “Especially the way you had Mom worried sick about it.”

“That’s because I didn’t know how bad it was until I saw it for myself.”

The playful banter between the siblings makes my cheeks grow slightly warm. He doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge about his shirt, I think to myself, hoping I’m right while a tinge of guilt lingers. My eyes can’t help but drift to where his hand still covers the lipstick smear, and I feel a naughty laugh rising within me.

Neel Menon is more than just handsome. His eyes, which have now changed color from hazel to brown with the lighting in the boutique, are shining with mischief as he ribs Elena about making a mountain out of a molehill.

Elena presses her lips together and turns to me. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce you two. My brother—”

“Neel.” I finish her sentence, extending my arm toward him.

“Kavita.” Neel nods, his handshake firm before his expression shifts. He runs his hand through his hair as another lock falls over his forehead. I wonder if his hand lingered longer on purpose during our handshake. Or is my imagination running wild today? I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to his reaction than meets the eye.

“You two know each other?” Elena asks, surprised.

“We’ve met…” Neel says, his gaze scorching.

“At Kiara’s wedding,” I finish, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach at the memory of our encounter.