I give a thumbs-up just as her phone rings. She answers quickly, replying with, “Alright. Thank you,” and ends the call. A staff member informed her that the B&T Corp buses had arrived, prompting a final inspection.
“Let’s go!”
The day is finally here. The day for the Employee Engagement Campaign, which we have been preparing for over three weeks. I am eager to see it unfold. Together, we met with all the event organizers to give last-minute instructions, then climbed the dais to finalize a few arrangements. A phone call interrupts me, and when I answer, I learn the buses are here.
“They are here,” I inform Amyra. We hurry to the beach entrance, where employees show up in Amyra’s custom-designed jerseys. Her face instantly lights up with happiness. Suddenly, our chairperson, Mr. Harshvardhan Bajaj, and CEO, Mr. Suryaveer Thakur, led the crowd to stop before us.
“Good morning, sir,” we greet them both simultaneously. They look pleased.
“You both are doing a great job organizing this meaningful event,” Surya Sir says with a polite smile.
“The concept itself is refreshing. I’m sure our employees will enjoy it,” Amyra’s father adds, pride evident in his eyes.
“Thank you, sir,” Amyra smiles, and I admire how she never leveraged her status as the heiress of the company. Amyra is truly extraordinary.
The event proceeds with the company heads addressing the audience and inaugurating the ‘B&T Green Horizon Drive,’ the title designed by Amyra. It began with tree planting along the coastal side of the beach. Employees eagerly participate before receiving their energy drinks. We actively guide the employees in collecting essentials for the tree-planting session. I cannot help but notice Amyra constantly checking her phone, her glances flicking toward the entrance, as if awaiting someone.
“Take it easy. Everyone’s already dispersed to plant their trees. Shall we do the same?” I call, earning her attention.
“Sure. Let’s grab a plant.”
“Let me grab the shovel and water can,” I say, collecting the items while also taking the heavy plant she has been holding.
“Oh, boy! I’m strong enough to carry it,” she snaps in a playful tone.
“Come on, let me be the man here,” I reply, and she rolls her eyes.
The coastline stretches like a painting, golden sand dotted with dark rocks, waves curling in soft white ribbons as they kiss the shore. Coconut trees lean toward the ocean, as if greeting us volunteers arriving for B&T’s coastal CSR drive.
Morning sunlight shimmers through the leaves, casting warm streaks across the gathering of employees, gloves on hands, saplings and shovels ready. The air carries the scent of salt and hope, fresh, clean, full of possibility. It feels like the perfect place to plant new life and the perfect moment for something quietly beginning between us.
“Look, there’s an empty spot here,” she points out, and I nod at her.
“Let me dig the soil,” I insist, but she is already slipping on her gloves.
“Let’s dig together,” she corrects with a grin. We work side by side for a few minutes, hands and shovels moving in rhythm, until enough space is ready to plant a tree.
“Let’s plant the sapling,” she murmurs, though her gaze keeps drifting toward the entrance. I stay calm.
We settle it into the soil, closing the space, and I notice her adjusting a hair strand back into her ponytail, and a tiny soil stain smudge on her nose. I smile and remove a glove, reaching out to wipe it clean. She stiffens in my touch with her eyes wide.
“Dirt on your nose!” I explain, pulling back, and she immediately wipes it away with her sleeve.
Once the tree is planted, we stand to stroll and check on employee participation. But before we can move, I catch her glancing again at the entrance.
“Finally, he’s here!” she exclaims, and I turn to see Reyansh walking across the coastal area, messy hair and glasses framing his face. He looks effortlessly sharp, even in the company jerseyeveryone is wearing today. Maybe it is the way he carried himself, or how he tucked his T-shirt.
Shouldn’t he have come in one of the buses with everybody, instead of making a sudden appearance as if he wanted the spotlight?
Amyra’s gaze stays fixed on him, her eyes holding what seems like deep affection, or at least that’s what I think. The moment feels perfect for the conversation I have been waiting to have.
“Do you love him?” I ask abruptly, and she finally turns her gaze toward me. Her eyebrows narrow, then relax, and I guess she is about to open up.
“But… he doesn’t love me,” she whispers, eyes flicking everywhere.
“What? So you really love him?” I exclaim, shocked.
“This should stay between us. I don’t usually share this with anyone,” she states, her tone serious. My heart leaps at learning how Amyra trusts me enough to share her secret.
