- Yasir's POV -

I couldn't believe I was here with someone else other than Nadira. I couldn't believe that this someone else is my childish secretary.

The most unbelievable part out of everything is that I think I might just be enjoying myself. I can't tell whether it's because teasing her is extremely easy or if it's because I haven't been able to relax in years.

Noor can be a bit too bubbly and energetic, I find that kind of energy too dangerous. She's nothing like Nadira.

Nadira's more composed and calm, doesn't jump around much, she sticks to her own matters. That's one of the things I love about her.

I stare at the picture I had the poor, old man take. Just in case this girl starts getting out of hand, this picture will do the trick.

I can tell she cares about her parents' opinion about her, it's obvious. She couldn't possibly be wearing such covering clothes if she wasn't being pressured into it.

I'm sure her parents would freak if they saw the picture. It won't do her poor soul well.

• • •

- Noor's POV -

I place Munchkin in the back seat, positioning him properly so he wouldn't fall.

"Are you serious? It's a toy." Mr. Yasir grunts.

"His name is Munchkin. Give him some respect. And yes, I'm serious. It's my first gift to you." I try to hold in my laughter.

"I'm going to have to see your birth certificate at one point because there's no way you're above the age of 10." He says while looking out the window.

I ignore his comment and look at my tired feet. "Do we have to go to the dinner? I'm exhausted."

"We were out only for an hour." He's really close to just kicking me out in the streets.

"I can barely stay out of the house for more than 30 minutes unless I'm at work, getting paid."

"Unbelievable." He mumbles.

We pull up in front a lavish Italian restaurant and the valet opens the door for me as Mr. Yasir opens his own door.

He gives the keys to the valet and plops his elbow out.

I stare at it for a few seconds, "Is something wrong?"

He sighs and takes my arm to wrap it around his.

I quickly unhook our arms. "You should at least ask before taking such bold steps. You didn't even confess your undying love for me yet."

He looks like he wants to hit his head against the closest wall. "Ms. Malik, if you don't comply right now—"

"I'm not holding your arm." I say simply.

"Yes, you are." He puts my arm back over his again.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because people in there think I'm in a stable relationship. You're the stable relationship." He states casually.

"You're joking with me. Say sike, right now." My jaw drops.

"I don't joke. It's just for tonight or whenever we see them." He sighs as if he's ready to just turn back around and I wouldn't mind that.

"I'm sure you could find better women to fill this spot." I say as I'm about to back away.

He holds onto my arm using his other hand to stop me from moving away. "Oh, I definitely could. But I didn't have time to go through the process. I'll make sure you find me a suitable match to attend these events with."

"If we're photographed in there together, I'll ki—"

"No photography allowed inside." He points at the sign on the door. "Besides, I would never let myself be publicly photographed with the likes of you."

"You're such an a—never mind."

"If that big mouth of yours doesn't stay closed the whole night, I'll personally deliver the picture to your parents." His grip on my arm tightens past firm.

I sigh, keeping my head down as we walk in together. I can already feel the Hell fires tickling my arms, letting me know that they're ready for me to cook in.

Amazing. Fantastic. I love this.

The moment we step inside, there's some fancy elevator music playing.

There's a few gasps and murmurs from the staff and customers as we walk by. There's a variety of comments ranging from "He's with only one women and it's not Nadira?" to "He could've done so much better than this." There were a few: "She's not bad". And a few: "I'm so jealous! I wish that was me in his arms!"

Girl, take my spot! I'll give it up without putting up any kind of a fight.

"I'm guessing many people are familiar with you here?" I whisper to Mr. Yasir.

"I come here often." He answers me.

So, that's what he meant by there will be people here. It's literally because he's familiar with the fancy regulars who come here.

"To your usual seat, sir?" The host asks.

"No, she prefers a seat with a better view, if you can." The look on his face while staring at me when he said that made my heart flutter.

His eyes softened and he smiled with a touch of charm.

Obviously, he's faking it for show but it's rude that he'd play with my mentality like that.

"Of course. Only the best for you, sir." The host smiles at the both of us.

The seat we got is just as Mr. Yasir wanted, a seat with a view. The large window overlooks a lit up lake. I didn't even know there's a lake here.

Mr. Yasir pulls out the chair for me and I take a seat.

"It's beautiful!" I smile while looking out the window.

"I knew you'd like it. I wouldn't give you anything less." He says with sweetness dripping in his voice.

For some reason, that made my heart skip a beat.

I turn to look at him in confusion only to realize that the host is still standing there, fiddling with his mini tablet.

Of course, he's putting on a show.

The host hands us both a menu and tells us he'll be back in a few minutes to take our order.

I look stars at the menu, my mouth wide open. The prices are insane!

"$22 for pasta? Do I look like a bank?" I say out loud.

"Lucky for you and your bank account, you're not paying tonight." He assures me.

"There's no way I can let you pay for this. The total will be over $50 for two items." I say.

Yes, yes I can let him pay for this. A $100 is like 5 cents to this man. I just need to be polite first.

"Be quiet and pick a few things." He says.

"I mean, if you say so." I grin.

I pointed at the three things I'd like to try; all my choices were either vegan or vegetarian.

The host comes around to take our order.

"We'd like a Margherta pizza, lo speghetto al pomodoro, scarolla, rigatoni all'americana and a glass of Cuvee Prestige's Franciacorta." Mr. Yasir says in an almost perfect Italian accent. Or at least I thought it sounded pretty good.

I look away awkwardly, realizing Mr. Yasir only ordered a pasta and a drink. Well, he said he's paying and I'll probably never be back here so I'm making the most of it. Plus, I deserve this after all the torturing he did to me.

"A fine choice, sir." The host nods at the drink choice.

"Anything for you to drink, ma'am?" He asks.

I shake my head. "No, thank you."

"Sparkling water for her, actually." Mr. Yasir says.

"I didn't ask for a drink." I say.

"You're going to need one." He says, sounding irritated.

He always wants everyone to listen to him. It's getting really annoying.

I watch him sneakily while he scrolls through his phone. If he wasn't such a pain, I'd ask him to marry me.

Just kidding!

I accidentally laugh about my thoughts out loud, making him look up at me. "What?"

"Nothing... Just thinking about how the great Yasir Khan can't defeat a claw machine." I smirk, as I lie because I was obviously not thinking about that.

"Those machines are rigged and you got lucky." He rolls his eyes.

"Is that a challenge, sir?" I raise a brow.

"Yasir! Noor! What are you two doing here?" A high-pitch voice says from behind Mr. Yasir.

Please, Allah, please don't let it be who I think it is. Please, please, please.

"Nadira... what a pleasant surprise." Mr. Yasir says.

Definitely not a pleasant surprise.

- - -

- A/N -

• Surprise! A random update for you guys! I thought y'all would be bored during quarantine so here's an update! ❤️

• Yasir do be a little shady or what not. 👀

• Poor Noor can't get a break from Nadira. 😩🤣

Next Update: Every Friday and Saturday, Insha'Allah!

Please vote and comment and let me know how y'all feel!!