Zayn asked, his smirk returning. "You can't say it because you actually like me?"
"You're totally self-obsessed," she snapped. "What makes you think everyone likes you?"
Zayn leaned back further, the image of confidence. "I don't think everyone likes me. I just don't care enough to notice who doesn't. But clearly," he paused for effect, "I live rent-free in your mind."
Meher's eyebrows shot up. "In your imagination, maybe."
"Let's order something and talk while eating," Zayn said, signaling the waiter. "I'm hungry, and I'll be late if I waste all my time with you here."
"Trust me," Meher said dryly, "I don't have time to waste on you either."
"Yeah, I can see it hundreds of clients just waiting for your royal attention."
"Not much, like yours," she replied, her tone sharp.
They stared at each other for a long moment, a silent duel of egos, before the waiter arrived. They ordered their food in a tense silence. As they waited, the image of Faqair and the tension at the office flashed through Zayn's mind.
He took a deep breath, deciding to pivot the conversation.
"By the way… did you find out who hacked your company?"
The question hit Meher like a physical blow. She looked at him, her eyes wide with shock. "How do you know about that?"
"My grandpa told me. Your dad told him."
Meher's shoulders dropped slightly. "Yeah… someone hacked it. We're still trying to find the person."
"Oh," Zayn said, his lips pressing together as he processed this.
The waiter returned, placing the steaming plates on the table. "Please, enjoy," he said before departing.
They began to eat,
the clinking of silverware the only sound for a few minutes.
Meher took a bite, then cleared her throat hesitantly. "I heard you also know hacking. Is that true?"
The question caught Zayn mid-bite. He choked slightly, the surprise momentarily breaking his composure.
Meher reached over and handed him a glass of water, her expression cold and unreadable.
After taking a long drink, Zayn recovered.
"Who told you?"
"Your best friend," she answered.
Zayn raised his eyebrows."Whom"
"Danish," she confirmed.
"Oh… that jerk ," Zayn admitted, regaining his cool. "I know a little."
"Oh."
"You can take my help whenever you need," Zayn added, a slight smirk returning to his face.
"Fine," she replied.
They returned to their meal, the silence more thoughtful now. Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a loud notification chime.
Zayn's phone, lying face up on the table, lit up with a message:
"Sir, I found her."
Zayn saw it the moment it appeared. So did Meher. Her eyes darted to the screen, her brow furrowing. Zayn reacted instantly, grabbing the phone and sliding it into his pocket.
"Just five minutes. I'll be back," he said, standing up and walking outside to take the call.
Meher sat alone, her mind racing.
Found who?
Is he looking for someone?
Why did he hide his phone so quickly?
What is he hiding so desperately?
Is he a stalker or something?
She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts. Oh, come on, Meher… what are you even thinking? Let's just get this over with and leave.
She checked the time: 4:30 p.m. The realization of her own schedule hit her.
She looked up and saw Zayn walking back toward the table, his face unreadable.
"I have a schedule. I need to go," Meher said as soon as he reached the table.
"Same here," Zayn replied.
They walked out of the Imperial Ember together, the afternoon sun feeling hotter than before.
"Say no," Meher said as they reached the valet.
"It's all on you," Zayn replied, his voice indifferent. "I don't care anyways."
Without another word, they stepped into their respective cars and sped off in opposite directions, leaving the echoes of their confrontation behind.
To be continued...