Kamal frowned as the elevator lurched to a stop, watching the young woman beside him let out a soft, startled squeak. The darkness swallowed them both for a moment before his phone vibrated in his pocket, casting a dim light that briefly illuminated his face. With a quick swipe, he fired off a message to Drax, his head of security.
Kamal: What's going on with the elevator?
It didn't take long for Drax to respond. Drax: No idea, but I'll get it fixed in a minute or two.
Kamal's frown deepened as he saw another notification pop up—a message from Mrs. Zara, his secretary. She reminded him that the investors were already here and waiting. Perfect timing, he thought with a sigh.
As he pocketed his phone, he finally looked over at the young woman, who was still clutching a large file to her chest, eyes wide in the dim glow of his phone's screen. Dressed in sweatpants and crocs, she looked distinctly out of place in the sleek, corporate setting. Her messy bun was slipping, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Kamal raised an eyebrow, noting her paint-smeared fingers. Curiosity got the better of him.
"Are you a delivery girl?" he asked, his voice deep, laced with the kind of authority that was second nature to him.
The woman's face turned a shade darker, clearly taken aback. "No, I'm… I'm here to drop something off," she mumbled, clearly flustered. Her voice, though soft, was musical, flowing like water. Something about the way her words fell from her lips intrigued him, an unexpected gentleness.
She glanced at him, her brows furrowing slightly, and he could tell she was both insulted and embarrassed. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Ah. Dropping something off for someone, then," he clarified, studying her reaction with more interest than he cared to admit.
Her cheeks flushed again. "Yes… exactly," she replied, her tone still tentative, but she didn't look away this time.
"Do you have a name, or should I just call you 'not-the-delivery-girl'?" he asked, his voice dipping into a softer, more teasing tone.
She bit her lip, a small smile breaking through her initial discomfort. "It's Nadra."
"Nadra," he repeated, letting her name roll off his tongue, drawing out each syllable with a hint of something almost playful. He saw the way her eyes widened, her cheeks deepening to a shade of pink that he found unexpectedly charming.
He could tell she was young—far too young for him, but something about her innocence, her energy, felt like a breath of fresh air. "Kamal," he said, after a moment, watching as she processed the name with curiosity.
"Kamal," she echoed, her eyes meeting his as the initial discomfort between them softened, giving way to something more relaxed. They began to chat, starting with a few polite exchanges, Nadra's voice growing more comfortable with each question he asked. He found himself oddly engaged, asking about her art, her family, and laughing quietly when she told him an animated story about spilling paint on her cat.
As the minutes ticked by, he noticed the way her guard slowly dropped, her nervous fidgeting replaced by easy laughter. For a moment, he forgot about the investors waiting upstairs, drawn into the warmth of Nadra's easy charm.
Then, without warning, the lights flickered back on. The hum of the elevator filled the silence, and they jolted slightly as the lift resumed its climb. Kamal's eyes met hers, both of them realizing the moment they'd shared had ended as quickly as it had begun. He straightened, slipping his professional mask back into place as the doors slid open with a soft chime.
Nadra glanced at him, flashing a small, shy smile. "Thanks for the company… Kamal," she murmured, stepping out of the elevator.
Kamal watched her, intrigued as she glanced around the large lobby before her gaze landed on someone across the room. Her face lit up, and he heard her call out, "Mom!" as she hurried towards a familiar figure.
He watched in surprise as she rushed up to Mrs. Zara, his secretary, and handed her the files she'd been holding. Mrs. Zara's face softened with a warm smile as she took the documents, her hand briefly resting on Nadra's shoulder in a maternal gesture. Kamal's brows lifted as he took in the resemblance, the realization dawning on him.
Nadra was Zara, his secretary's daughter.
Nadra's gaze flicked back to him for the briefest moment, and he could see the recognition there—the curiosity. She gave him a small, bashful wave, making her mother look towards him. Mrs.Zara nods to him as he approached. "The meeting is about to start now, sir." Kamal felt a smile pull at his lips, an odd sense of amusement lingering as he watched Nadra make the connection at her mother calling him 'sir'. Her pouty, perfect lips fell open.
With a small nod, he turned, and headed towards the meeting room as Zara and Nadra said their hasty goodbyes. He felt Nadra's eyes on his back till he turned round the corner. And even minutes into the meeting, Nadra's voice—soft, melodic, and utterly unguarded—lingered in his mind.