Ashburn replied to Aisha's message early the next morning.
"Let's meet this weekend," he wrote, "there's a tea shop near the main bazaar — quiet, but good enough to talk."
She responded a few hours later.
"Alright. Saturday evening works."
The message was short, but seeing it gave him a strange mix of relief and nervousness. It had been years since they last spoke. Back then, he was still a student — unpolished, uncertain, often trailing behind people like her. And now… he was calling her for something that could change the course of his growing business.
During the following days, work consumed him as usual. Deliveries had to be checked, records updated, and the new branch arranged. The Horizon shipment had just been distributed, and his driver was learning the routes for distant deliveries. But no matter how busy he became, his thoughts occasionally drifted to the upcoming meeting.
He wondered if she had changed much. Aisha had always been confident — sharp eyes, sharp mind, the kind of woman who didn't need to speak loudly to command attention.
He remembered her walking into the seminar room years ago during their internship project — files in hand, ponytail swaying, her tone calm but decisive. He used to admire that kind of control, something he never had back then.
---
Aisha sat in her glass-walled office, tapping her pen on the desk as her subordinates argued over a sales projection. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, adding to her irritation.
She worked as a sales manager in a mid-tier corporate firm that distributed imported goods. It paid well, but it wasn't what she had once dreamed of. Her dream had been clear — to become part of something that mattered, to rise in the business world not by titles, but by results.
Yet in this company, hierarchy ruled. You didn't grow by ideas — you grew by pleasing the ones above.
When Ashburn's message appeared on her phone that morning, she stared at it for a good minute. "It's been so long," she whispered, the corners of her lips lifting slightly.
She remembered him as the quiet but curious student who'd joined her internship team almost by chance. He was clumsy at first, often asking basic questions others found annoying — but he learned fast. He had the patience to listen, the humility to admit when he didn't know something.
There was one memory that stood out. Late one evening, she had stayed to finish a report. The office was almost empty, and Ashburn had come back from the photocopier with a stack of papers.
"You don't have to stay," she had told him.
He smiled. "If I go, who's going to learn how the real work is done?"
She'd laughed at that. Later that night, he'd helped her calculate figures for a client summary. She'd noticed then that he wasn't just hardworking — he was observant.
She looked out of her office window now, the city of Ashrock stretching below — bazaars, rooftops, and the faint haze of evening. Maybe meeting him after all these years wouldn't be such a bad idea.
---
Saturday came with the soft golden light of late afternoon. The city was alive — vendors shouting, horns blaring, the smell of roasted peanuts and diesel mixing in the warm breeze.
Ashburn stepped out of a taxi near the main bazaar. He wore jeans and a light blue shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His watch gleamed faintly under the streetlights. He looked less like a shopkeeper today, more like a man who had learned to carry responsibility with quiet dignity.
He checked his phone — 6:12 PM. A few minutes early.
The tea shop stood at the corner, old but neat. The wooden sign read "Jahangir Tea House — Since 1981." Inside, brass kettles steamed on the counter, and a faint aroma of cardamom drifted through the air.
He chose a seat near the window. From here, he could see the bazaar's edge — where the crowd began to thin and shadows lengthened.
A few minutes later, Aisha arrived.
She parked a small white car across the road and entered, her heels making soft sounds on the tile. Her hair was tied back neatly, her outfit elegant yet simple — beige blouse, black trousers. She carried the same air of calm efficiency he remembered.
"Ashburn?" she said with a slight smile.
He stood up. "Aisha. It's been a while."
"It has," she said, sitting down. "You look… different. More serious."
He smiled. "Years and experience, I suppose."
They ordered tea and snacks — nothing fancy, just two cups with milk and a small plate of biscuits.
For a while, they spoke of the past — professors they once feared, how the university cafeteria still hadn't improved, how most of their classmates had either left the city or settled for jobs they didn't love.
"You remember how you used to mess up client sheets?" Aisha teased.
"I remember you throwing one of them back at me," he replied. "Said I was a lost cause."
She laughed, the same bright, clear laugh from years ago. "You actually remember that?"
"Hard to forget," he said. "That was the moment I realized you took work seriously."
The laughter faded into comfortable silence. The waiter refilled their cups. The evening outside deepened into twilight.
"So," Aisha said finally, setting her cup down, "you didn't call me here just to talk about old times. What's this about?"
Ashburn nodded slowly. "You're right. I'm running a small business now — two shops, delivery service, partnership contracts. It's growing faster than I expected, and I'm reaching a point where I can't manage everything alone."
Her eyes sharpened with interest. "And you thought of me?"
He met her gaze. "You're one of the best organizers I've met. You understand both numbers and people. I need someone who can handle management — someone I can trust to help expand what I've built."
Aisha stared at him for a moment, silent. She wasn't expecting that.
"You're serious," she said quietly.
"Completely."
The faint noise of the bazaar filtered in through the open door — the honking, the chatter, the hum of the evening.
She leaned back slightly. "And what would this role be, exactly?"
"We'll discuss the details if you're interested. But for now… think of it as a partnership. I'll handle expansion and operations; you'll handle structure and management. Fair share, fair say."
Her expression softened into thought. There was ambition in her eyes — the kind that hadn't faded despite years in the corporate grind.
"I'll have to think about it," she finally said, her tone calm but curious.
Ashburn nodded. "Take your time. I'm not rushing."
She looked down at her cup, then back at him. "Alright, I will."
---
That night, as the city lights of Ashrock flickered under the moonlight, both of them went home with mixed thoughts.
Ashburn wondered whether she'd accept — whether she'd see the same vision he did.
Aisha, on the other hand, lay awake thinking about his words, realizing that for the first time in years, someone had offered her not just a job — but a place to build something real.