"Can I have a word with you?" Nirvaan asked.

Inaayat was lounging on the poolside recliner, long legs crossed and flipping through a glossy magazine. The morning was cool, the sun weak and pale, casting soft ripples across the pool water. She pushed her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and looked up at him, there he stood perfectly dressed in his formal suit, watch glinting and hair neatly swept back.