The Charity Case
"Zakir runs a Muslim charity; Farah is the corporate donor sent to evaluate their impact. Her cold professionalism meets his passionate idealism, and sparks fly."
The Charity Case
"Your financial records are a mess."
Zakir Hassan looked at the corporate evaluator—Farah Khan, according to her business card—and felt his patience evaporate.
"We're a charity, not a bank. Every penny goes to actual help."
"That's not how reporting works." She didn't look up from her laptop. "Without proper documentation, how do I prove impact to the board?"
"Come see for yourself." He stood. "I'll show you impact that spreadsheets can't capture."
"That's not how due diligence—"
"Come. See." His eyes challenged her. "Or admit your evaluation is surface-level corporate theatre."
She went.
What she saw changed everything.
The food bank serving three hundred families weekly. The women's shelter housing survivors of domestic violence. The youth center keeping kids off streets.
"We can't quantify this," Zakir said as children played basketball behind them. "But it matters."
Farah was quiet for a long moment. "I grew up near here. Whitechapel. My family used food banks when my father lost his job."
"Then you understand."
"I understand both sides." She turned to face him. "Let me help you. Not as an evaluator—as a consultant. Your mission deserves better structure."
"That sounds like corporate speak for 'change everything.'"
"It's an offer to strengthen what you've built." Her eyes softened. "No strings. I believe in what you're doing."
Working together was intense.
Farah reorganized his systems; Zakir reminded her why she got into business in the first place. Their arguments were legendary—passionate, loud, productive.
"You're insufferable," she said one late night.
"You're transformative." He moved closer. "And I can't stop thinking about you."
"This is unprofessional."
"Everything about us is unprofessional." He cupped her face. "I don't care. I've watched you change—from cold evaluator to passionate advocate. The woman underneath the corporate armor is incredible."
"Zakir..."
"Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you don't feel this."
She kissed him.
The charity office after hours became their space.
Zakir made love to her on his desk, surrounded by evidence of all the good they'd built together.
"Meri jaan," he breathed, moving inside her. "You've given me structure. Let me give you meaning."
"That's presumptuous."
"That's honest." He thrust deeper. "You needed purpose beyond profit. I need someone who sees the big picture. We balance each other."
She came apart in his arms, and he followed, and afterward they lay tangled among impact reports.
"My company will question this," Farah said. "Personal involvement with a client organization."
"So leave your company. Work with me."
"You can't afford me."
"I'll pay you in purpose." His smile was warm. "And other things."
"Zakir, I can't just—"
"Yes, you can. You've been wanting to. I can see it." He held her closer. "Take the leap, Farah. I'll catch you."
She took the leap.
The charity tripled its impact within two years, with Farah as COO and Zakir's wife.
Best investment decision she ever made.