He sat across me, old and wrinkled in age, with one of his sons. Stone Culturist needed him to sell his bakery to us, from the information provided from the files Cassidy had found. We had been trying to convince him for over a month now and yet he was not willing to sell.
"Mr. Hatcher, this would benefit both you and your family. We will pay you well," I tried persuading the eighty year old man.
The man looked at his son, who leered at me. The man turned back to me slowly.
"No. I have always said no. Why do you still persist?" He chafed.
I shifted in my seat, Cassidy quietly standing by me and typing away on her tab. "Because we need you. It is very important. Not just for us but for the world."
"My answer is still a no," he dismissed.
I looked at his son, who was still gazing at me. I winked at him and he grinned.
"I would like to speak to your son in private then." I told the old man. "Cassidy, escort him out."
Cassidy led the man out and returned.
I stretched my arm and placed it on the young man's palm. My skin crawled at the contact. "We really need your bakery."
He looked down at my palm sadly. "The old man can be stubborn. Because it is the family's heirloom that has been handed down for decades. He does not wish to disappoint the family by selling it out. But we are crashing and we need to revive it by selling it off before it folds. The old man does not seem to understand."
I pouted and gave him my best puppy dog eyes. "Then make him understand. You all will be settled in a twinkle of an eye. And I would ensure to double the offer if you can do it by the end of the week."
He looked up at me in determination. "I will do my best. But maybe if you give me an advance, I could be faster."
I turned to Cassidy. "Wire ten thousand dollars to his account asap." I then smiled at him, "So we have a deal." I stood and stretched my palm for a handshake.
He beamed and took my palm, standing up, "We sure do."
Once he left, Cassidy ticked that activity off the schedule and told me it was my break time. We had spent three hours in the meeting with Mr. Hatcher. I was exhausted mentally. My office phone rung then and Cassidy answered.
She placed a palm over the speaker and informed me, "The Director of Constructions is here to see you."
"Does he not know it is my recess? Is it urgent?" I grumbled, tapping my fingers on the conference table.
"Is it urgent?" She spoke into the speaker. "Yes," she replied me.
"Send him in. And order tacos for me," I said.
She nodded and began to make calls. The Director showed himself into my office.
"Do you not knock?" I asked him irritated.
He was a man of over fifty but I did not give a fuck. Grandma always told me I was above others in my company.
He looked between me and the door, confused. "I am sorry." He apologized.
I would have insisted he went out to knock but I just wanted to get over with whatever he wanted and so he could leave.
"Come in and sit down," I grunted.
"Thank you," he said and sat.
"What do you want?" I cut to the chase.
The man fidgeted with the file in his hand opening to a page and handing it over to me. I scanned it immediately.
"The factory in Florida is almost completed. It took less than three months," he said proudly.
"I hope the materials are of good quality?" I enquired.
He nodded, "I have been with this company for close to ten years now. I cannot deceive you. You could ask your grandmother. My services are top-notch."
I cringed at his gloating. "Okay. Anything else?"
He nodded again, his mood turning very serious. "We still need to expand. There was a land your father bought some years ago in the suburbs. We could build a warehouse there."
"You could go ahead with it," I snapped my fingers.
He looked uncertain but he told me anyways. "There is a motherless baby's home there."
I shrugged unconcerned. "And what is my business? Get on with it. If we bring that non-profit-making building down and erect a rather profiting structure, not only for ourselves and the people, it would be a whole lot better."
He nodded approvingly, "I like you. Your mind is zeroed in on business. Your father bought that land and even when we wanted to begin construction on it, he told us to wait till they vacated. And even when we kept bugging them to leave and find somewhere else, they always fail to."
"I think their time is up. I need good news as soon as possible. Do you understand?" I dismissed him.
"Of course," he assured and left.
I looked at Cassidy to find her gawking at me. I did not want to know whatever her problem was.
"My tacos?" I questioned.
"I will go get it. It has been in the reception a while," she responded and exited.
The rest of the day, I worked on some files and papers and even shifted some to Cassidy since I thought she was less busy. I finished up around eight pm and dismissed Cassidy. She looked exhausted.
I exited the car and handed my purse and shoes to the maid at the door, who took it up to my room.
"Dinner is ready, Miss. Mrs. Stone is already at the table," another maid informed me and I nodded, going up to my room to freshen up.
I returned to the dining with a lighted cigarette and a strapless nightgown. Grandma and Aunt Joan were already halfway through their meal.
"Good evening, Grandma. Good evening, Aunt Joan," I greeted.
Grandma nodded, still staring at her food and eating.
Aunt Joan smiled at me. "How was today?" She tried to make convo.
I nodded, dropping my cigarette in an ashtray and drinking some wine from my glass. A maid ladened my plate with my choice of food and I began munching on it.
"Wanna talk about it?" She asked.
"After dinner," I replied.
After dinner, Grandma led us to her study and we sat for a brief convo.
"So, how was today?" Grandma inquired.
"It was exhausting," I replied.
She shook her head in disapproval, "Business can never be exhausting."
I instantly remembered the word she always taught me to use. "It was fulfilling."
She nodded, "Good. You should never be pessimistic. That is the beginning of your downfall."
I hummed in reply. Aunt Joan quietly studied me.
"What did you learn?" She probed.
"People are like puzzles that needs extreme wisdom to be followed and solved."
She bobbed her head in approval, "Good. Any complications?"
As far as I was concerned, I would not call anything a complication. Well, except Mr. Hatcher. Three hours of my precious time was wasted on him. That was a complication.
"Mr. Hatcher. I am sure you know him," I divulged.
She looked annoyed. "That stubborn old man. Should have taken care of him weeks ago."
"How can I conquer him?" I asked her, ready to tap from her wisdom.
She smiled taut. "Do not worry. I will take care of him."
The next morning, I had heard on the news that the old man was found dead in his car.
"Grandma, did you do it?" I had questioned her in her bedroom that morning. She was still in bed, sipping special tea always prepared for her ritual every morning. "Yes, I did. And I do not have regrets." She responded, her face and voice devoid of emotion. "W...w...what?" I sputtered. Grandma had taught me how to feel less emotion and not let those emotions show. But now, I felt something strange. Could not place a finger at what it was called, but it was there. Fear?"How could you, Grandma?" I questioned her. "We needed the bakery," she shrugged, sipping from her tea. "How would this get it?" I almost snapped in annoyance, but I knew if I did, I would be punished. "It would leave his family with no choice but to sell the bakery and we would be ready to buy it. You should visit their home today to offer our condolences. Then persuade them into selling the bakery." She instructed me. Even though her act was ruthless, it would get us what we wanted. And the old man was surely
I stormed into my office and flung myself into my swivel chair in annoyance. Who dared stand up to me? Who dared talk back at me? Who dared to have the last say except me? Who dared to rile me up like this? "Draw up all files on that man," I said smoothly to Cassidy. I was working so hard not to let this altercation affect my always cool demeanor. "Ummm, ma'am. That can't be possible," she mumbled. I snapped my gaze to her and squinted my eyes. "Why?" "Well, we do not have a lead on him. No name, no voice recognition, no..." I interrupted her. "Were you blind or are you so slow and dumb? Did you not see him. Can you not fucking describe him?" "B..b..." "No buts. I do not care who you call or what you do. I need to crush that man and you would have to find out who he is so I can do so. If I do not get any info about him in two days, kiss your job goodbye." I thundered. Cassidy looked visibly shaken. "Y...yes ma'am." My eyes widened in reminiscence. "Ah yes." I pointed my
Waking up groggily from my odd sleeping angle with a pounding headache, I took in the state of my room and eyed my laptop on my bed. I remembered using it last night to look up the name 'Jide' on the internet. Found out the dude was strange because he was African. Those ugly barbaric set of people, Grandma had made me believe. Nothing happened last night between us. He gave me a curt glance and sauntered away. Like he was not afraid of me. Like he had risen from the ashes. It unrattled me. I was ready for a challenge of words, like we had at our first meeting but none came. I climbed out of bed and wondered where this banging headache came from. I searched in my bedside drawers for a bottle of Aspirin and swallowed three. I was not sure I could make it to work today. I did not feel too well. Looked like the party had a huge effect on me. I hated those functions. I had to be on my toes all the time, even when I was a kid. I picked my phone and laid back in bed. Sending a quick
'I was not going to do this. I was not pushing through with this.' I kept chanting in my head the next morning as I rode to work. There was no way in hell I was going to work under someone and definitely not in a farm. Why must I take the brunt for the company? And why did those stupid Africans insist on having me do this? Why could I not just order a staff to do it? This was frustrating. I ignored everyone's greetings as I stormed into the building. I could see from my periphery how scared my employees were of my mood. Getting to my office, I banged the door shut. Cassidy was already waiting with some files but I ordered her out. I sat in my chair and balanced my head in my arms as they rested on my desk. Would these stupid people have told Grandma to do this if she was the CEO? Why would Grandma even agree to this shit? I could not do it, even for business. I grabbed the telephone receiver on my desk. "Send Miss Jones into my office right away." I ordered my receptionist
"Why are you back so early?" Grandma asked me sternly as I marched into the house. I had closed up work for the day because I was restless as curiosity was eating me raw. "We have got a problem," I said coldly, my fingers clenching on the file in my hand. She inclined her head in askance and sat up from her chair. I sat on the sofa opposite her in the study and leaned on my thighs. "Mr. Spencer is withdrawing his shares," I announced, my senses attuned to her every move. She remained unwavering. "What does he want?" "A reinvestigation on father's death," I replied. She flinched and rearranged her skirt. "Why does he want reopen old wounds? That case was closed three years ago." I sat up straight and gave her a scathing glare. "You see that is the problem. You say the case is closed but the police report says it went cold." I saw her shiver. It was a second reaction but it was there and I had noticed it. Her pupils dilated and she gulped. "That is nonsense," she evaded.
Minutes turned to hours and hours turned to days. It was soon time to leave for the farm. I had to cancel my trip to Spain because Grandma said she would handle all the company business till I got back. I had not gotten any encouraging news from Detective Zane and Michelle yet; the case posed to be a harder nut to crack than I thought it was. The police had closed the case this time because Grandma had requested them to do so, saying it was a false call on my side. And even when I persisted, I was informed they would not reopen the case until there was a solid evidence on ground. "Your ride is ready, ma'am." My chief maid informed me while I enjoyed a cigar on the balcony. I wore a red polkadotted suit with emerald jewelries and and a gold studded eyebrow piercing. My feet were visible in my transparent heeled shoes. I nodded without sparing her a glance, watching as the guards struggled with five of my suitcases. I had never spent time out the house alone; it was either with my p
IVORYAfter I had met Mr. Kevin Ernest, the farm manager, and was told the list of things I was to expect here, Zala led me to the hostel. My guards and Cassidy followed me with my suitcases as we went out the 'OFFICE' building and into the brick building on the right. Mr. Kevin insisted that I discard my guards and Cassidy once I was done using their services. Zala led me up a flight of stairs and knocked on a door. A short ebony girl, who was dangerously curvy, opened the door. Her brown eyes smiled at Zala and looked at me in askance. "Hey Zala. What's good?" She asked, her accent strange. Again. Why could I not identify these accents? It was getting on my nerves. Was this what I would go through all the time? Listening to different accents hit me from every direction?"Everything," Zala replied. "You have a new roommate. Mr. Kevin's orders. He says to be nice to her."The girl leaned in the doorway and accessed me, then took notice of the people behind me. Her eyebrows shot up
JIDEHer laughter rang in my ears. I was quite surprised but it felt so melodious coming from the stoic cold girl I had met and heard a lot about. Everyone watched her and it was like the time had stopped to capture this moment. She looked around when her laughter died down and her blue eyes caught mine. She gave me a brief glance and returned her gaze to Kofi. I had to admit Kofi had won my admiration. He was just working her softly and penetrating quite easily. I was not sure I had such patience. I heard Makena snort beside me. "She has got the nerves to laugh." The white light bulbs above reflecting off her bald ebony head. "Kofi does know his skills. Once he softens her, we will deal with her," Kadin, a Moroccan teenage boy hissed. I shook my head in dissent, "Kevin said to be nice.""Does not mean we should be," Wangui interjected, spooning into her mouth. "We can't just let her go after what she has done to our home," Tumpale, a Malawian girl, gruntled. "We were not able t