My mother studies her for a second longer than necessary. Not in a judgmental way. In a curious one. Taking in the red hair. The nose pin. The steady eyes. “Oh, I’ve heard about you,” Ma says casually.
I choke. “You have not.”
She ignores me completely. “So you’re the one handling his expansion project?” she asks Ishika.
“Yes,” Ishika replies simply. “Trying to.”
“Trying?” my mother repeats, raising an eyebrow.
Ishika glances at me briefly. “Your son has opinions.”
I gasp dramatically. “I have excellent opinions.”
“Debatable,” Ishika replies instantly, her lips twitching despite herself.
My mother’s eyes light up. “Oh, I like her,” she declares.
“Excuse me?” I put a hand to my chest. “You just met her.”
“And she already looks exhausted by you,” Ma says sweetly. “That tells me everything.”
Ishika presses her lips together to hide a smile. I look between the two of them in disbelief. “This is betrayal. Absolute betrayal. I introduce you and within thirty seconds you switch teams?”
My mother folds her arms. “You deserve it.”
Ishika tilts her head slightly. “I agree.”
I throw my hands up. “Unbelievable.”
They both laugh. And I swear the sound of Ishika laughing in front of my mother does something strange to my chest. It feels…significant. Like two different parts of my world colliding and somehow fitting. Is Ishika a part of my world?
My mother steps closer to Ishika. “He troubles you, doesn’t he?”
“Constantly,” Ishika replies without hesitation.
“Lies,” I protest. “I am a delight.”
“You are dramatic,” Ishika corrects.
“See?” Ma beams at her. “You understand him already.”
I point at them. “I am standing right here.”
“Yes,” my mother says dryly. “Unfortunately.”
Ishika actually laughs properly at that. Not the controlled, polite version. The real one. And I find myself watching her instead of defending myself. The way her eyes crinkle slightly. The way her shoulders loosen when she forgets to stay guarded.
Ma notices. Of course she does.
“So, Ishika,” she continues smoothly, “do you stay nearby? Or does he make you travel unreasonable distances because he forgets employees are human beings?”
“I do not—”
“I manage,” Ishika interrupts calmly before I can finish. “He’s…manageable.”
Manageable?I narrow my eyes at her. She gives me a look that clearly says behave.
My mother’s smile widens. “Good. Keep him manageable.”
