In fact, a year passed, and Aryan’s firm disgraced to design an app for Lumé.
In Lumé’s Cyber Hub office, the tension was striking.
“Let’s not just provide delivery,” Rhea, crossing her legs, started. “Personalization is a must. Our clients expect luxury at every step.”
Forward leaning against his elbows, Aryan said, “Skyline offers AI-driven personalization. Your clients wouldn’t just buy things; they would experience a different way of experiencing Lumé- a way no other brand could offer them.”
Rhea cocked her head.
“Knowing luxury and leading life luxury aren’t the same, Aryan.”
To which Aryan flashed a conceited grin back at her.
“Maybe then you have something to teach?”
Nothing was verbally acknowledged, but a spark did catch between both.
Business dinners got to the point of dinner-and-breakfast affairs as meetings continued through the night.
Aryan sat across from Rhea, surrounded by cosines and Haruki Murakami references, finally posing the question that had been in his mind for a week now.
“How did you fare with Lumé?”
Rhea’s eyes softened as she sipped her cappuccino, laughing out loud as if to share her thoughts. “My hall-just stitched the first collection of weave shades online. Bestest nights had really made me wonder if I was going to have to shut it down.”
Aryan leaned closer, elbowed on his chair. “I know what you mean. I coded Skyline’s first software with only one intern. Our server crashed the night we launched. I thought it was over before it even began. “
Rhea laughed softly, brushing back her hair, and said, “It’s funny how struggle feels a lot less heavy when someone else carried it too.”
Discussion became, involuntarily, an observation about each other’s pasts – windows to memories of the fights each rarely shared with the world.