Blurb:

Rashi Ratnam, the newly minted design assistant of billionaire Fashion designer Neel Mishra, is sceptical when she leaves on a field trip to Kerala with her temperamental boss.

It doesn't matter that she has been harbouring a crush on her gorgeous boss since forever.

The man intimidates her and is cold like ice.

Also, he hasn't still forgotten his ex-girlfriend. 

At Heaven's Cove, the beautiful backwater island owned by Neel's grandparents, Rashi begins to see Neel in a new light. She also discovers his best-kept secrets.

It is the firefly season, and there is nothing that stops her from falling madly in love with Neel.

But love is not easy.

With Neel's jealous ex-girlfriend hovering around them stirring up troubles, life becomes strenuous.

Can they face the curve balls that fate throws at them?

Or will their love die a slow death?

But in the end, is the choice theirs to make?

Read this heartwarming contemporary love story of letting go and letting love in.

Excerpt:

The girl sitting next to Rashi seemed lost in her own reflection. Good for her! It was now worth staring at. Rashi watched as Sara, the main beautician, curled the girl’s long, silky tresses and pinned them into a loose bun at her nape. When she had entered this uptown Mumbai salon, the girl had looked like something the cat had dragged in. Now she looked like a Bollywood diva.

Rashi was in here for such a transformation. Else, the bullies at the Fashion House where she worked would continue to irritate her until she exploded. Apparently, she looked like a scarecrow in their perfect paradise. Barely three months had passed since she had joined and already, she had pissed off a lot of people with her quick comebacks and don’t-care-attitude. 

She didn’t care two hoots about what others thought about her. She was there to learn design, not to be a fashion model. For some reason, the girls at the fashion house thought differently. To top it all, Kiarra, her boss’ girlfriend, the true-blue-fashionista who ran the fashion house, had already asked Rashi to always be well-groomed. Twice.

“All our clients are V.V.I.Ps. You don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable with your shabby ways, do you?” Kiarra had asked her just yesterday and Rashi had taken the day off to get a makeover. If she continued to annoy her, Rashi might have to bid goodbye to her dream job.  

Neel Mishra’s fashion house had been her dream destination right from when she had started designing clothes. The man was a magician when it came to couture. She wanted to learn from him, watch him create enchantment with clothes. But that would just remain a dream if she got herself thrown out before the man returned from his work trip to Florida.

Rashi scowled at her own reflection. Wavy hair, and butterscotch tinted, pimple-prone skin, courtesy of the genes she inherited from her father. A slightly plump disposition and a funny nose which flared too much whenever she was angry, courtesy of the genes from her mother. God must have given the job of creating her to an apprentice. A sloppy one at that. In a family of overly talented, beautiful people, she was an anomaly. 

Rashi belonged to the family of the Ratnams. The whole of India idolised her family. Her grandfather was a stalwart in the Telugu movie industry and her father had continued his legacy. Her brother, Rajeev Ratnam, was a hotshot movie director. Her mother, Urmila Ratnam, was a legendary movie actress. Her sister-in-law, Princess Ishaani, belonged to the Sravanapura Royal family and was also a leading Bollywood singer. 

And who was she? A struggling noob designer at a famous fashion house. She had concealed her true identity when she had joined the team. She had introduced herself as Rashi R to everyone, not Rashi Ratnam. She knew what would happen if her real identity was known. She would either make more enemies or end up having to cater to many fake friends. And then there was also the mockery.  Rashi didn’t want any of it. 

 Rashi hated going out with her mother. Most of her friends wondered how someone as beautiful as Urmila had managed to produce someone as plain-looking as her. And often, they told it to her face. Rashi quietly snuffed the flame of irritation in such situations. If not, her mother would make her regret every single word of outburst. And anyway, who wanted to make an impression on those plastic dummies?! Most of them couldn’t even smile thanks to the many plastic surgeries and Botox treatments they underwent.

Anyway, who cared?! Rashi let out a sudden yelp when the girl working on her right foot scrubbed the heel a bit roughly.

“Hello sweetheart, I do need it when I walk out of here,” Rashi whispered to the girl. Sara’s puny little assistant had somehow evoked sympathy in her. Else she would have snapped at her for being so rough. 

“Sorry, madam. But too much dead skin.”

“Don’t scrub too hard. It is painful,” said Rashi. 

The girl stopped scrubbing and went to the next phase of massaging her foot with some lotion. Too ticklish. Who knew her feet were this sensitive? Or was the girl deliberately torturing her? She narrowed her eyes at the girl. No. She seemed a bit scared. Good.

 Never ever go for a pedicure again, Rashi made a mental note. Dead skin be damned. She didn’t want anyone poking around her toes or heels ever.

Beside her, the newly minted beauty got up to leave. Rashi admired her graceful exit and mentally prepared herself for her own transformation. She was going to impress everyone at the welcome back party they were throwing for Neel this weekend.