The taxi lurched forward, pulling away from the congested street corner. Sasha remained frozen, the photo of Luca Meyer, the man who was both her CEO and her blind date, still burning a hole in her mind. Her professional armor, so polished and impenetrable an hour ago, was now fractured by a cruel, cosmic joke.
Sameer, blissfully unaware, was already scrolling through construction notes. "So, are we doing a quick check-in or a deep dive at the site? I say we make it snappy. I've got that design challenge to prep for tomorrow."
"Quick check-in," Sasha managed, her voice tight. The frantic, honking symphony of the city was a dull roar compared to the panic in her skull. She spent the entire ride constructing an airtight defense strategy. She would be polite, brief, and utterly forgettable. She had to ensure the professional and personal spheres remained utterly incompatible. Her job depended on it.
The next hour on the construction site was a blur. The metallic tang of concrete dust and the rhythmic clang of tools did little to ground her. Sameer moved efficiently, his eyes sharp as he assessed the progress, but Sasha was running on pure adrenaline and muscle memory. She nodded at the foreman, signed off on material logistics, and pretended to scrutinize the blueprints, seeing only Luca Meyer's laser focused gaze superimposed over the technical drawings. She felt like a puppet, moving through the motions while her brain was in complete shutdown.
"Right, that's us done," Sameer said, clapping the blueprints shut. "You look like you need a forty eight hour nap. Go home, champ."
"You have no idea," Sasha muttered, forcing a tired smile.
The familiar, crowded chaos of Karama was a strange comfort after the sleek, controlled environment of the Business Bay towers. The buildings were closer, the street noise more vibrant, and the air was thick with the scent of spices and diesel. Sasha ascended the narrow stairs to her modest one bhk apartment, the door feeling like a gateway out of the corporate pressure cooker.
She pushed open the door and was instantly enveloped in the warm, savory aroma of Indian cooking Masala dosa, judging by the scent.
"I'm home," Sasha called out, dropping her heavy work bag by the entryway.
"Finally!"
Kavya, her roommate and lifeline, appeared from the small kitchen area, a wooden ladle in hand. She was dressed in comfortable scrubs, her thick, dark hair tied back in a messy bun. A nurse at one of Dubai's major hospitals, Kavya operated on night shift energy, which currently meant she was vibrant and wide awake.
Kavya took one look at Sasha, who was leaning against the doorframe, a picture of polished exhaustion.
Sasha didn't speak, but she managed a helpless, exaggerated pout. She walked straight over and slumped against Kavya, resting her head on her shoulder in a sideways hug.
"Woah. What happened, work horse?" Kavya asked, patting Sasha's arm playfully, her tone light. "Tired from work, or are you again planning to time travel back and fall in love with a fictional king?"
Sasha sighed, the sound long and defeated. She pulled away and hopped onto the kitchen countertop, avoiding eye contact. "Worse. My mother." She pulled out her phone and, with a grimace, opened the photo and handed the device over. "Tell me your honest opinion."
Kavya's eyes widened as she took in the image of Luca, the expensive tailoring, the composed posture, the mature gravitas. "Wow. Nice guy. Very… established. Go meet him, why not? Seriously, Sasha, he's hot."
Sasha pushed herself off the counter, burying her face in her hands. "Kavya. This 'nice guy'… is my bossss."
Silence descended, broken only by the gentle simmer of the chickpeas on the stove. Kavya stared at the phone, then at Sasha, then back at the phone. Slowly, an impossible, hilarious grin spread across her face.
Kavya let out a hoot of laughter, covering her mouth with her free hand. "Oh, my God. A perfect KDrama moment! You are living the office romance trope, Sasha.. Only, in your version, the CEO is intimidating, and you're the heroine trying to avoid a promotion or a marriage proposal."
"It is not a KDrama, it's a career suicide waiting to happen," Sasha hissed, running a hand through her slick ponytail. "He is Luca Meyer! I saw his face across a boardroom table for two hours today. He approved my project! Now I'm supposed to sit and drink coffee with him and discuss our mutual mothers?"
"Exactly!" Kavya insisted, shutting off the gas and grabbing Sasha's arm, pulling her toward the small balcony. The cool evening air of Karama provided a slight reprieve. "Look, he's already seen the photo of you. He knows. He hasn't called it off. That means he's okay with it."
Kavya sat down and gestured for Sasha to do the same. "You need to stop panicking. You're a professional. Treat this like an uncomfortable professional situation you have to navigate. But first, you have to talk to him. If you show up cold, it'll be a thousand times more awkward. Call him. Right now. Just to confirm he's still showing up."
Sasha stared at the phone, her heart beginning its familiar, heavy drumbeat. Kavya was right. The certainty of his attendance was crucial for her composure.
After a few minutes of internal debate, Sasha unlocked her phone and scrolled to the number that already saved. Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed the call button. The line connected, and the ring seemed deafeningly loud.
It was answered on the second ring.
"Hello, Sasha." His voice, deep and composed, came through the speaker. It was the same voice that had dismissed an entire marketing campaign yesterday, now speaking her name with unsettling familiarity.
Sasha's throat was dry. "Uhm, s-sir…" she stammered, instantly regretting the formality.
Kavya, leaning in, tapped her hand sharply, gesturing for her to speak like a normal human.
"Yes?" Luca's voice was polite, patient, and entirely businesslike. "Did you and Sameer leave the site yet?"
"Y-yes, sir. Just got back. Everything's fine."
"Good. I'm glad the site visit went smoothly. As for tonight, let's meet at seven as planned. I've booked a table at Observatory Bar & Grill in the Dubai Marina, overlooking the water. Is there anything else you need?"
Sasha was stunned into silence. He had handled the entire absurdity with the same methodical, calm efficiency he used to manage a multi million dirham project. He was treating the blind date like a standing seven o'clock appointment.
Kavya nudged her again.
"No… no sir," Sasha finally managed, the lie catching in her throat.
"Okay then. I'll see you at seven."
And with that, he ended the call.
Kavya threw her hands up in triumph. "See! He's fine! He's a workaholic, he's probably just slotting you in between emails. It's perfect! Now, less panic, more preparation. This is a scouting mission, remember? You're gathering intel on his civilian personality."
The panic, though still present, began to yield to a new sensation.. determination. If Luca Meyer was treating this like a highly efficient meeting, Sasha Perret would treat it like a meticulous design presentation.
For the next hour, the apartment became a flurry of activity. Kavya, an expert in speed dressing and simple elegance, dove into Sasha's closet. "Not the boring gray. Not the severe navy. We need an unforgettable professional," Kavya dictated.
They settled on a black, below the knee pencil skirt and a beautifully draped black silk top. It was elegant, classy, and commanded respect without trying too hard. Kavya expertly applied simple makeup, a sharp wing of eyeliner and a confident, brick red lipstick and insisted Sasha leave her hair down, letting the waves frame her face.
By 6:15 PM, Sasha looked in the mirror. She was polished, poised, and utterly terrified.
"You got this," Kavya said, pushing a small clutch into Sasha's hand. "Remember, he's just a man who signed a contract for a modular lobby. Go and find his irreconcilable differences."
The taxi ride to the Dubai Marina was silent. The cityscape flashed past the towering, ambitious geometry of the Business Bay, the glittering lights reflecting on the water. Luca had chosen the venue well, the Observatory Bar & Grill was a classy, high end spot known for its spectacular views and sophisticated clientele. It was intimidating, but fitting for a CEO.
Sasha took a deep breath, smoothing her skirt as she stepped out. She walked past the host and scanned the room. The restaurant was sleek and hushed.
And there he was. Luca Meyer, already at a table by the window, gazing out at the panorama of the Marina. He was no longer the imposing figure behind the mahogany desk, but a solitary man waiting for a blind date.
Taking a deep, anchoring breath the same one she used right before clicking the first slide of a presentation, Sasha started walking toward him, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor, every single molecule of her being uncertain and awkward.
[To be continued]