Chapter : 8 - Pinch of Flirtiness

"Anything else do you need, Mr. Nader?"

"Yes," I replied.

To which she asked, "What do you need?"

"You," I replied, still gazing at her.

When I expressed those sentiments to her, expecting a blush or a melting response that someone like Aziz Nader might evoke.

She, being she, didn't react as I expected. Instead of blushing, she shot me a death glare and retorted, "I'm telling you, Nader, you seriously need to see a psychiatrist.

Let them examine your brain first, to see if it's in its proper place or if, by chance, it's located somewhere in your knees."

I couldn't help but laugh at her insult, impressed by her audacity to mock me. Listening to her jabs with a smile, Being absolutely amazed by her.

Now, she sat across from me and said, "Kitne Bhegairat hoon Nader aap? " (How shameless can you be, Nader?)

I'm insulting you, and you're just smiling away. You did the same even in your mansion and here too. Do you always smile like this, or do you genuinely have some mental issues? I can recommend the best psychiatrists. Just let me know if you need their number."

I cleared my throat and said, "Thank you for your suggestion, Ms. Reza, but my sister is already studying psychiatry. And if you think I have mental health issues, then I must say,

I suspect you might have some personality disorder issues too. Just an hour ago, in my mansion, you completely ignored me as if I were nobody, and now you're sitting right in front of me, hurling insults one after another.

What should I make of this? It seems like you might need the psychiatrist more than I do, and I'd be happy to accompany you there myself, Miss Reza," I added, with a mischievous smile playing on my lips.

I could see her expression change, and I sensed she was taken aback by my statement. Straightening her posture, she replied with a cold voice, "You tell me, Nader, how can I talk to a stranger whom I don't even know, especially in front of my parents?

"Am I a stranger to you?" I responded instantly, "Yes, you are, because I don't know you." She said.

I couldn't help but smile at her statement and continued, "Wow, indeed, amazing. You couldn't talk to a stranger in front of your parents, but you can freely converse with that same stranger here.

If I am a stranger, then why on earth are you talking to me?" Anger and disappointment were evident in my tone. She didn't say anything and simply walked away.

After she left the table, reality struck me, and I cursed myself for losing my temper in front of her. Damn it, Aziz, how could you? You're absolutely bhegairat, Aziz.

Instead of calmly listening to her and trying to understand her, you had to let your so called ego take over and taunt her. You're going to ruin the story before it even begins, Aziz.

I saw her standing at the counter, her face that was once smiling now completely pale. Were my words too harsh on her? I punched my own hand on the table, regretting what I had said.

I'm damn sure there's something else that made her face turn pale, not just my words. What else could have turned her from a happy soul to a heartbroken one within seconds?

Whatever happens, Aziz, you must apologize to Miss Reza now.

I stood up and walked towards the counter, holding the now-cold coffee cup.

"Ms. Reza, could I have another cup of coffee, please? This one has gone cold," I asked. She didn't say anything, just took the cup and began preparing a fresh one. I returned to my table and waited for her.

After a few minutes, the boy came and placed the coffee on the table. "Why are you bringing it?" I asked the boy named Usman, with my tone cold. He replied, "Because madam said to serve you, sir."

With the same cold, deep voice, I instructed him, "Tell your madam to bring it. Thank you." After saying, I turned towards the book which I hadn't opened it since arriving here.

Usman walked towards the counter. Uns, who was arranging the cups, glanced at Usman, who held the hot cup of coffee in his hand, and asked, "What happened, Usman? Didn't he like it?"

To which Usman replied, "Appi, sir wants you to bring him the coffee, not me." Saying this, Usman went to serve the other people. Uns clenched her fist, ready to punch him, then took the coffee and went towards him.

I observed her approaching, holding a coffee cup in one hand and her other hand clenched as if ready to punch.

She placed the cup down with a loud thud again, and when I looked up at her, she avoided making eye contact. This time, I stood up from my seat and said,

"Uns, do you have a moment to spare?" Still not receiving any response, I continued, "I kindly request you, Ms. Reza. I won't take much of your time, please." I pulled out a chair for her to sit, and she obliged. With the coffee still in my hand, I began to speak.

She was focused on the book I had taken to read as I began speaking. "Maybe my words were harsh and you-" Before I could continue, I noticed her gaze shift towards me, her fist clenched even tighter.

That was my cue to pause; I feared another word might earn me a direct punch to the face. Finally giving up, I spoke with a soft yet deep voice, "I know my words were too harsh, Ms. Reza.

I shouldn't have said that. Instead, I should have listened to you and tried to understand how you could talk to a stranger in front of your parents.

I should have realized that you're talking to me here because perhaps you want to get to know me." I completed my statement, still looking at her.

She smiled, then crossed her arms and said, "Is this how you apologize, Mr. Nader?

No matter what, you really have to add a pinch of flirtines, whenever you say something. Seriously, you really need a psychiatrist."

After everything, the conversation circled back to the psychiatrist topic. If Rasha hadn't become a psychiatrist, I'm sure I would literally punch all those psychiatrists.

Then she spoke again, "Are you planning to only hold the cup or will you even drink it, Mr. Nader?" She said with a mischievous smile spreading across her lips.

Damn, she knows my weakness. Giving an awkward smile, I replied, "Ah, it's cold again now, Ms. Reza. Maybe next time I'll have the pleasure of trying this precious coffee of yours."

I placed the cup on the table. Instantly, she said, "No problem, Nader. I'll make another cup of coffee. I really want you to taste the precious coffee right now."

This girl is seeking revenge now, using my weakness against me. How should I escape from drinking this coffee? I hate it. I can't drink it. If she offers me tea, I would drink as many cups as she wants. But coffee... Aziz, where have you gotten yourself into?

I was contemplating how to decline when she stood up and said, "Don't worry, I don't want to waste my milk and coffee beans again. Enjoy reading your book." Then, she added, "And now I know where you got inspired to flirt-'Haunting Adeline,'"

she said and walked away. I looked at the book, and now I was shocked to see the cover. I hadn't even noticed it until now. How could I when my whole mind was occupied by her?

I don't know what she might be thinking about me now. But wait a minute, how does she know what this book is about? Has she read it?

Finally, Madam was packing her stuff; it was already 11, and handling everything-cafe, college, assignments, then home-would be difficult.

By now, everyone had already left. Uns came towards me and said, "Mr. Nader, I know you're busy reading your book, but it would be good if you left the cafe now."

She pressed the book to remind me of my taste in books. I got up and walked out. She closed the doors, and as she turned towards me while locking up, I was engrossed in watching her.

In her melodic voice, she asked, "Are you even planning to come to my home, Mr. Nader?"

I wished I could say yes out loud, that I would ensure she reached home safely. But I shook my head and said no. "Okay then, bye, Mr. Bhegairat," she smiled when she said "Bhegairat."

She took her car keys and headed towards her car. Before she could open the door, I opened it for her, saying,

"Go home safely, Ms. Bhedang." She smiled again and started driving towards her home. I stood there, my hand placed near my chest, trying to control my heartbeat.

Finally, she smiled-not the mischievous or mocking one, but the genuine smile I had been eagerly waiting to see. "Hayee, Nader, tum toh gaya kaam se," I thought to myself.

I grabbed my car keys and began to follow her. Placing my earphones in my ears, I activated the voice transmitter. Now, I could hear the car's engine, and then her voice.

Ah, yes, I had placed a voice transmitter in her car. That was the task I had gone out to do-to install a transmitter in her car so I could listen to her even when she was away from me.

I was literally obsessed with her voice. Hearing her voice calmed me down; it was like medicine to me. Her voice kept me away from drinking or smoking.

Until I heard her, I stayed away from smoking. Isn't it strange? I was replacing one addiction with another.

As I listened to her, I realized she loved talking to herself about me. The way she insulted me, no one had ever dared to do it.

And she was actually cursing me for not drinking her coffee? "Yeh kaisi zabar dasti hai Uns?" I asked myself.

My face was literally smiling like an idiot again. She was right once more; I indeed needed a psychiatrist.

I had a truly wonderful time at Nader Mansion. For a moment, I forgot everything-my problems with my father, my insecurities about myself, everything.

Zaina aunty is so loving, and uncle Khalid too. They are both affectionate. Seeing them reminded me of my parents; once upon a time, they used to be so loving and caring. But now, all my father needs is work, and nothing else.

The moment I stepped into their house, the most unexpected sight greeted me: Dark, ocean- blue deep devilish eyes were staring at me.

He was standing right in front of me. I never expected to see him, at least not here in Nader Mansion.

My mouth dropped when I heard his name: Aziz Nader, the man Sahara talks about day and night, saying, "My brother is this, my brother is that, my brother is everything."

Ya Allah, what do you want from me? Why do you keep introducing me to him repeatedly? Why, Allah, why? Why is a person who can't even fast being written into my destiny?

He welcomed me by handing me Lego daisies, I mean seriously, Mr. Aziz or whatever his name is, what does he think of me? Is he trying to make fun of me?

But the words he whispered while coming close to my ears in his deep, husky voice... that's it.

My cheeks started turning red without my consent. How can his words have such an effect on me? "Ahhh, Uns, don't... don't let him control you. You can't, you can't do this," I told myself.

Ignoring him, I went towards my parents. I tried to listen to them, but my mind kept wandering back to him. My eyes kept stealing glances at him and Sahara, who were deeply engrossed in conversation. How did he even manage to influence Sahara?

After a while, both of them walked towards us, and this man sat right in front of me, spreading his legs, one hand resting on the couch, the other on his thigh. I didn't want to notice it, but how could I refuse to acknowledge his broad shoulders?

He was wearing all black: a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves, a black watch on his left hand, black formal trousers, black shoes-everything he wore was black.

Only his fair skin stood out, making him look even more attractive. He looked like a CEO sitting in front of me. Oh, and his hair-the most important part-his black hair. Last time they were messy and long, but today they were straight and down.

And last but not least, his eyes-the most attractive eyes. He had devilish eyes, and as if that wasn't enough, they were blue. Have some mercy, Mr. Aziz.

Like a creep, he stared at me continuously. Even when I looked at him, he didn't dare to move his eyes. I had to break the eye contact because I knew if I didn't, the staring contest would go on.

I arrived at my cafe, and just a minute later, I saw him walking in. Not again. I tapped his shoulder, and he turned towards me with a smile.

I could barely handle his smile; it had become my weakness. After a brief argument, he went and sat in the same spot where a man was sitting two days ago. Maybe that person wasn't here today. I went to my counter.

I saw Usman working and greeted him. He turned towards me, taking a deep breath, and said, "Finally, Appi, you're here. I thought people might rest at home after iftar, but ya Allah, so many people came before.

Allah is indeed bestowing blessings in Ramadan, Appi." I smiled and replied, "Yes, Usman, there are indeed many people today."

Usman then said, "But, Appi, sorry to say, handling this big cafe all alone is not in my hands. We indeed need some more people, Appi."

I replied with a smile, "Usman, consider your prayers answered. I also thought about this, and I have selected some people for interviews. Let's see how many are interested in working here. Let's hope for the best."

Usman felt relieved and exclaimed excitedly, "Thank you so much, Appi. Alhamdulillah, we'll have more people working here."

We were discussing when Aziz called my name out loud. I couldn't believe this man. "Bhegairat," I murmured to myself and went towards him, absolutely done with him.

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