I woke up the following morning to the sound of my phone ringing. I raised my myself from the bed and checked the time, it was thirty minutes to six. Who would call me on a Saturday, and that too at five thirty in the morning? I picked up my phone, and it was an unknown number. My thoughts wandered to the car that had followed me yesterday. Who was it? I doubted it was someone from my past. I turned off my phone and tossed it on my bed. I had changed a lot these past few years, it would be difficult for anyone I once knew to recognize. Maybe my mind had played games with me and the car wasn't even following. I said that to myself until I finally believed it and carried on with my weekend routine, which is sleeping until it's noon. Some hours later, a knock sounded on my door. It was light at first until the person began to pound on the door when I didn't respond. I got up from the bed and checked the time again, it was forty-five minutes past ten. I let out a yawn and walked to the
The old Mr. France was sitting in the couch wearing a bathroom rope, with an edition of The Insider in his hands as I entered the room. I looked at him, amazed by his presence. I'd always looked up to him when I was growing up, so it felt good to see him in person. He'd come from a poor home but managed to fulfil his dreams and make a life for himself despite the hate and discouragement, he received from his parents. Because he did not choose to become a doctor like they wanted him to. Now he looked very old and frail, a deep contrast to the devilishly handsome man I'd made my role model. Mr France sat on one of the chairs in the room. I did so too, but not before greeting the older man. He brought the magazine down, smiled and nodded at me. I squealed internally and smiled back at him. His smile dropped from his face when his eyes landed on his son, who looked at him with a frown. I got the chance to carefully looked at the older man and realized. “You're late.”, he simply stated, a
I rushed to him and cried out for help. Mr. France and Garry, who had been in the hallway also rushed to the room. Mr. France carried him from the floor and placed him in the couch while Garry called the ambulance. I let out a silent gasp when I saw the amount of blood coming out from his nose. Was he going to be alright? He had to be. Worried about his condition, I offered a silent prayer for him.A moment later, we heard a siren blurring in the distance. Paramedics checked his pulse and blood pressure, placed him in a stroller and carried him into the ambulance. Garry wanted to go with them, but Mr. France told him not to, so he didn't. Mr. France sat in his car and briefly looked at me, his eyes asking if I would be able to go alone. There was undeniable fear in his eyes, and he didn't try to conceal it. I nodded at him, assuring him that I had money on me, and he drove off, following the ambulance. I never knew I could communicate with someone without words until that moment when
Mournful, was the atmosphere that greeted me when I entered the building. People weren't gossiping about what they'd done on the weekend, everyone looked sad and downcast, including Rosa, who seemed to have been zoned out because she didn't notice me. It surprised me how personal everyone had taken Mr Nathaniel France's death. It could be because he'd been so kind to his workers, or that he'd founded the company that had put money into their pockets. My heels clicked loudly on the floor as I exited the elevator and made my way to my new office. It had been cleaned, and new furniture had been added to it. I didn't dwell on it for too long because my mind was occupied with thoughts about Mr France. Was he alright? It had come out on the news that no one had heard of him since his father's passing on Saturday, and now it was Monday. I left my office and stood in front of his door. I wasn’t sure he was in there, but I had to check. I knocked it twice but received no response. After two m
We went through a great deal of trouble before we were finally able to carry the sleeping man into my apartment. The most painful part had been holding him up the stairs. We dropped him on the bed, not caring if he’d landed on it. My mind couldn’t process that because of how sore my ankles and arms were. “I have to go back to work. I have an article to finish. Do you have things to print, if so I could give an excuse for your disappearance.”, Justin said I remembered I hadn’t told him of what had happened on Friday. Clearing my throat, I uttered, “You don’t have to do that. I don’t work there any more” “Really? Did you move back to the workstation, or did you get fired?” “Don’t be dumb. Do you think I would be in that building if I had been fired.?” “Okay, so you’re moving back to the workstation?”, I rubbed my temple, “No, I’m not…” “Then where are you now?”, he interrupted me by asking. I glared at him and spat, “How can I tell you when you won’t let me finish speaking?” He r
Life was a rollercoaster. Most often the unpredictable happens in our lives and we find ourselves thrown into a series of events that manifest significantly in our lives. An example of such an unpredictable event is the sight of Mr France sitting on my couch, watching television. I'd expected him to run out of my house the moment his eyes opened but not only did he eat the food I had prepared but he'd thanked me for it. Something I thought I would never hear him say. Maybe his father's death and his unstable emotions were bringing a side of him that no one knew or that he hid away.He hadn't cried since he woke up but looked sad, which was expected considering the present situation. He laughed at something funny on the screen. I turned to look at him, his face calm and relaxed but his teary eyes betrayed him. He wasn't okay but was trying desperately to keep it in, which worried me. He had to let it out!"Errr, are you okay?", shit, I shouldn't have phrased it like that. I mentally f
Mr France returned to work the following day looking like he had just walked off a runway. Not only his presence surprised me but his clothes as well. It wasn't his usual dark blue suit but a flower-patterned shirt and tight jeans that showed his well-defined thighs. I had made it to the elevator when he entered the building, a pair of shades hiding his eyes which would still be puffy from all the crying he did yesterday. I entered the elevator with me and I had expected a 'good morning' thinking we'd gotten a little bit closer because of the events that happened the day before but none came my way. I cursed myself internally for thinking he would do such a thing. Even though he had been weak yesterday, he was still the self-centred and arrogant Mr France. I pressed the button to the last floor and anxiously waited for it to open because of the awkward atmosphere in the small space. Fortunately, a few seconds later I heard a 'ding' sound as the doors opened and I quickly rushed out.
Jane Duncan's POV My lips were so dry as I made my way across the street to the huge building. The air this morning was dry and dusty that I could feel pains in my nose. To say I was nervous was a huge understatement of how I was feeling at the moment. I think the right word to use would be that I was extremely terrified. Yes! Extremely terrified because I was late for my first interview. It's like having the "not serious" poster plastered on my forehead for everyone to see. My shirt was completely soaked with sweat and I had this feeling that my armpit was beginning to have a very unpleasant smell. I rushed to the reception desk and I'm eyed by the woman there who looks like she's gonna eat me alive.I gulped and cleared my throat before saying, "Hello, I'm Jane Duncan...""...and you are here for the interview, right?" she cut me off and sticks gum into her mouth."Yes, I am" I replied."Okay, take the elevator to the third floor and submit your details to Miss Mallory," she instru
Mr France returned to work the following day looking like he had just walked off a runway. Not only his presence surprised me but his clothes as well. It wasn't his usual dark blue suit but a flower-patterned shirt and tight jeans that showed his well-defined thighs. I had made it to the elevator when he entered the building, a pair of shades hiding his eyes which would still be puffy from all the crying he did yesterday. I entered the elevator with me and I had expected a 'good morning' thinking we'd gotten a little bit closer because of the events that happened the day before but none came my way. I cursed myself internally for thinking he would do such a thing. Even though he had been weak yesterday, he was still the self-centred and arrogant Mr France. I pressed the button to the last floor and anxiously waited for it to open because of the awkward atmosphere in the small space. Fortunately, a few seconds later I heard a 'ding' sound as the doors opened and I quickly rushed out.
Life was a rollercoaster. Most often the unpredictable happens in our lives and we find ourselves thrown into a series of events that manifest significantly in our lives. An example of such an unpredictable event is the sight of Mr France sitting on my couch, watching television. I'd expected him to run out of my house the moment his eyes opened but not only did he eat the food I had prepared but he'd thanked me for it. Something I thought I would never hear him say. Maybe his father's death and his unstable emotions were bringing a side of him that no one knew or that he hid away.He hadn't cried since he woke up but looked sad, which was expected considering the present situation. He laughed at something funny on the screen. I turned to look at him, his face calm and relaxed but his teary eyes betrayed him. He wasn't okay but was trying desperately to keep it in, which worried me. He had to let it out!"Errr, are you okay?", shit, I shouldn't have phrased it like that. I mentally f
We went through a great deal of trouble before we were finally able to carry the sleeping man into my apartment. The most painful part had been holding him up the stairs. We dropped him on the bed, not caring if he’d landed on it. My mind couldn’t process that because of how sore my ankles and arms were. “I have to go back to work. I have an article to finish. Do you have things to print, if so I could give an excuse for your disappearance.”, Justin said I remembered I hadn’t told him of what had happened on Friday. Clearing my throat, I uttered, “You don’t have to do that. I don’t work there any more” “Really? Did you move back to the workstation, or did you get fired?” “Don’t be dumb. Do you think I would be in that building if I had been fired.?” “Okay, so you’re moving back to the workstation?”, I rubbed my temple, “No, I’m not…” “Then where are you now?”, he interrupted me by asking. I glared at him and spat, “How can I tell you when you won’t let me finish speaking?” He r
Mournful, was the atmosphere that greeted me when I entered the building. People weren't gossiping about what they'd done on the weekend, everyone looked sad and downcast, including Rosa, who seemed to have been zoned out because she didn't notice me. It surprised me how personal everyone had taken Mr Nathaniel France's death. It could be because he'd been so kind to his workers, or that he'd founded the company that had put money into their pockets. My heels clicked loudly on the floor as I exited the elevator and made my way to my new office. It had been cleaned, and new furniture had been added to it. I didn't dwell on it for too long because my mind was occupied with thoughts about Mr France. Was he alright? It had come out on the news that no one had heard of him since his father's passing on Saturday, and now it was Monday. I left my office and stood in front of his door. I wasn’t sure he was in there, but I had to check. I knocked it twice but received no response. After two m
I rushed to him and cried out for help. Mr. France and Garry, who had been in the hallway also rushed to the room. Mr. France carried him from the floor and placed him in the couch while Garry called the ambulance. I let out a silent gasp when I saw the amount of blood coming out from his nose. Was he going to be alright? He had to be. Worried about his condition, I offered a silent prayer for him.A moment later, we heard a siren blurring in the distance. Paramedics checked his pulse and blood pressure, placed him in a stroller and carried him into the ambulance. Garry wanted to go with them, but Mr. France told him not to, so he didn't. Mr. France sat in his car and briefly looked at me, his eyes asking if I would be able to go alone. There was undeniable fear in his eyes, and he didn't try to conceal it. I nodded at him, assuring him that I had money on me, and he drove off, following the ambulance. I never knew I could communicate with someone without words until that moment when
The old Mr. France was sitting in the couch wearing a bathroom rope, with an edition of The Insider in his hands as I entered the room. I looked at him, amazed by his presence. I'd always looked up to him when I was growing up, so it felt good to see him in person. He'd come from a poor home but managed to fulfil his dreams and make a life for himself despite the hate and discouragement, he received from his parents. Because he did not choose to become a doctor like they wanted him to. Now he looked very old and frail, a deep contrast to the devilishly handsome man I'd made my role model. Mr France sat on one of the chairs in the room. I did so too, but not before greeting the older man. He brought the magazine down, smiled and nodded at me. I squealed internally and smiled back at him. His smile dropped from his face when his eyes landed on his son, who looked at him with a frown. I got the chance to carefully looked at the older man and realized. “You're late.”, he simply stated, a
I woke up the following morning to the sound of my phone ringing. I raised my myself from the bed and checked the time, it was thirty minutes to six. Who would call me on a Saturday, and that too at five thirty in the morning? I picked up my phone, and it was an unknown number. My thoughts wandered to the car that had followed me yesterday. Who was it? I doubted it was someone from my past. I turned off my phone and tossed it on my bed. I had changed a lot these past few years, it would be difficult for anyone I once knew to recognize. Maybe my mind had played games with me and the car wasn't even following. I said that to myself until I finally believed it and carried on with my weekend routine, which is sleeping until it's noon. Some hours later, a knock sounded on my door. It was light at first until the person began to pound on the door when I didn't respond. I got up from the bed and checked the time again, it was forty-five minutes past ten. I let out a yawn and walked to the
PAST~SEVEN YEARS BEFORE PRESENTMy back was forcefully pushed to the wall, so I winced in pain. The bald man holding my neck sneered at me, a smirk on his face. I was taller than him, but he was strong, so strong that I could barely breathe. My hands tried to pry his off me, but it was no use. We were at the alley at the back of the bar, Alexandro visited with his men on every Friday. Today I had come with him. He'd told me I would finally be part of his family if I killed one of his men who had betrayed him. I'd refused to do it, and it led to this."What? Did you think I wasn't going to know it was you, bitch?", he pressed tighter, and I thought my neck was going to snap into two, but he let go off me. I fell to the ground, coughing as my throat burned. It would surely leave a mark there. My vision was blinded with tears because I knew he was going to kill me. Alexandro wasn't one to forgive. He didn't care your age or your status, all that mattered to him was that once you wronged
"I want you to be my secretary.", I choked on my saliva and erupted into a fit of coughs as soon as the words left his mouth. My throat burned, and I hit on my chest so stop the coughs. I'd never experienced something like this before. Mr France did nothing to help, and I didn't expect much from him. After almost five minutes of me hitting my chest, I finally calmed down. He continued as if I'd not nearly died, "I'll have someone clean up the room, so you can move in as soon as possible. There are a lot of files you have to go through...", I cut me off before he said any more nonsense,"I didn't agree to it." He looked at me as if he'd grown two wings and said,"What do you mean by you've not agreed to it.", I shrank in my seat and couldn't look him in the eye because of how he was looking at me. It was like he was telling me there'd be major consequences if I didn't agree with him. "You asked me to be your secretary but I-I h-haven't s-said yes t-to t-that.", I stuttered. I didn't kn