Three

A week later,

As Varisha makes her way from the restroom, Max, her supervisor, falls into line with her. Max, being her supervisor, is a five feet eleven inches tall male. He is wearing a long sleeve, navy blue sweater on a white shirt and trousers. He’s keeping an extremely low haircut and a full beard just like the one Keenan keeps only his own, making him look even more terrifying than she wants him to be.

Vary didn’t need to be slapped twice in the face to know that Max didn’t like her and she wishes she could change that. She thought the male was a little friendly, but here he is making her life a living hell and not feeling bad about it and she wonders why everyone referred to female supervisors as hard and bitchy when she has the bitchiest one of them all.

‘Oh, kill me now?!’ She groans inwardly and her eyes flutter close for a minute.

“Be careful what you wish for young lady.” Comes Max's witty response and Vary almost glares at him... Almost.

Sighing deeply from the frustration yet trying to be polite, Vary asks, “What do I owe your presence? It’s not every time I get so lucky to have you talking to me.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Keep your smart mouth to yourself, the boss wants this reviewed and brought to him tomorrow morning,” he says, handing her documents and with the weight of it, she knows it’s a fifty paged work.

“There’s no way I’ll be able to read all this today alone, much more review it!” She exclaims helplessly.

“Just one week in and you’re already cramping? If it’s too much work for you, then better resign!”

He’ll love that, wouldn’t he?

Rumours were that he had recommended a few for my job a week ago and none of them got picked, only Vary was and so he’s angry and taking that anger on her. He’s hoping to make her life a living hell so she’ll throw in the towel and she’ll be damned if she gives him that satisfaction!

“All I’m saying is there are other analysts that are less busy and you can assign this review to them instead of pushing it down my throat. I only hand two hands.” She explains.

He doesn’t listen to her reasonable explanation, “If the founding fathers had started with whining, complaining and procrastinating, this great nation would not exist today!” He snaps back.

“The boss likes you last I heard, so he would expect that you make him proud!” He mocked and walks away from her.

She grits her teeth and her hands ball into a tight fist before marching into her small office.

Once in her office, she drops the files in her hand down on her desk and takes her seat. She groans and slams her fist on the desk in anger.

If anyone had said her life would be a living hell a week ago when she got this job she wouldn’t believe it and if someone had told her the person who would give her hell wouldn’t be her employer, she would probably have looked at that person crazily. But here she is going through hell with someone who wasn’t her boss!

Well, he’s kinda your boss since his position is higher than yours and he’s also your supervisor.

That means the boss.

“Well, I wish that two-faced smug wasn’t my supervisor!” she cusses aloud.

“First week in and you’re already cussing?” Comes Keenan's startled voice makes Varisha turn around so quick she almost loses her balance on my feet.

Her heart best doubles as she realises Keenan was in her office and also that she had cussed and complained about my supervisor and he heard me. All this thought going through her head is already giving her panic attacks.

She drags in a couple of breaths and slowly calms her nerves. Keenan, all the while not bothered to turn and look at her.

He is wearing a grey three-piece suit and black shoes. His hair parted at the side and the rest combed to the other side. There is no further definition of a muscular man than the one that is standing in her office, tall, well built and his voice goes a long way and makes him a pant cramping specimen of a man and he’s not even looking at her yet.

He appears invested in the art of drawing on the wall. Those were some things she did in her leisure time as a kid, but as she grew, she dedicated to it and when she came into this country; it became a livelihood for her and throughout college; she used it to fend for herself and get extra cash. In her final year, however, she sold a few to the art gallery in the city centre and when Alian’s father was seeking her permanent residence, this was one thing he used to attain that.

She feels that her art is part of her history and wherever she went; she likes to take them with her. Although it was only two painting, Max immediately told her the first day she brought them in that they were unwelcome, stating how it was a company office and not a museum, but Susan a fellow employee told her it didn’t matter so following her opinion, she put them up.

She wonders why Keenan invested in them and wonders what he’s seeing in the painting on the wall. Different people see different things and most times the picture in her head before she paints isn’t the picture that those who observe it get, but still it’s fascinating that although painting is silent, it speaks loudly to people’s soul.

She realises that this is the first time since her employment that she’s seeing Keenan and wonders what he is looking for.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were going to be in my office.”

“The woman here is running away with her heart and children!” He blurts out, his voice overwhelmed with awe.

Now she’s left in shock because this single piece has been with her for a very long time, but none has ever gotten the picture currently, none until now.

“Yeah, she is.” She replies, unable to hide her astonishment, “how did you figure it out?” She asks.

He smiles at her confusion. “My sister paints as well. I watched her while growing up and she tells me a few of the secrets of painting.” He replies, and he turns around and his blue eyes settle on her.

She has to hold her breath because he looks even more handsome than the last time she saw him and she doesn’t want to let her mind wander, but she can’t help it.

Those eyes are weakening and his deep hoarse voice doesn’t help matters either and the authority and command he seems to have made her wonder know how much more possessive he will be behind closed doors.

Damn it Vary, you have a boyfriend, remember?! Her mind yells at her.

“She must be a talented artist then.” She finally brings herself to say, drawing my mind out of its carnal thought, which is easier said than done.

He smiles a little and her heart skips a beat and she smiles back weakly, “She alright, gave up her passion because she got married. Used to look forward to her painting every week back then.” As he said the last part, the brightness in his eyes fades away.

Her face drops, “Oh, that’s sad to hear.”

“Yeah, well, you’re here and your heritage is unique, don’t lose it.” He advises and the earlier smile returns and butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“Yes, sir, I won’t, thanks.”

His eyes locked on mine before moving away to the document littered on my desk.

If I knew he would come into my office today, I would have arranged my desk. “You’re welcome. So what’s it that makes you want to have a different supervisor?”

“It’s nothing,” I causally dismissed and walk over to my seat, “just usual rants of employees, you shouldn't hear that.”

“Usually when your boss asks you a question, you don’t shrug it off, you reply,” he says, his voice going from extremely cool to hard all in the space of a second.

His change in mood threw Varisha off guard, and her mouth almost hit the floor in shock. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”

He glares at her and steps towards her desk, and even though the desk serving as a barrier between them, she steps back. “I own this company! The trouble you will get into is not answering my question” He grounds out, and it’s so slow that she can almost spell it. He wants to remind her of his authority because she seems to have forgotten.

Varisha swallows hardly, she had never really taken into context what everyone meant when they said he was the Italian devil because he has been anything but mean, but the last thirty seconds has shown him to be a hard, authoritative person she doesn’t want to mess around with.

Thinking about it, he is scary. Standing around six feet three inches, he embodies a masculine appeal and his beards, eyes and ginger hair make it even more obvious.

He looks so terrifying that she’s about to crap her pant.

“I think Max hates me. He deliberately overburdens me with assignments even though other analysts have lesser work than I do. I just got this and when I tried to complain and he suggested I resign and how this nation is not the greatest nation on earth by whining and complaining.” Once she opened her mouth, there was no going back. “He believes I am not qualified and only got the job because you were being sympathetic to the fact that I’m a pretty black woman.”

She presses her lips into a thin line and she watches as his face gets flooded with different emotions for the first few moments that pass by after she finished speaking.

“Like I said before, I don’t want to get into any trouble. I love my job and just want to do it in peace.”

Keenan says nothing. Instead, he steps towards my desk and picks up the documents Max had handed to me earlier.

“We are going out to have lunch.” He announces and walks to the door, but pauses when he realises Varisha still paused in her position. “Are you coming or do I need to ask twice?”

He doesn’t need to look at her. His words came with a hard glare on their own, and she races to meet up with him.

They both step outside of her office and the other employees lurking outside stare at them with many questions in their eyes, but Keenan bluntly ignores them and Varisha tries her best to avoid them.

Keenan spot Max at the off the hallway laughing with some other members of staffs, but as soon as they see him walking towards them, the smile they had on their face vanishes and the rest dismiss themselves to their various office leaving Max who looks terrified to death all alone.

“Did you say to Ms Klean that the only reason I employed her was that she was a pretty black woman?” Demands Keenan quietly but severely.

He looks at me, and his eyes linger on me. “Look at me!” Snaps Keenan angrily and although even Varisha jumps for fear.

“I said she only got lucky because you were sympathetic to her because she is a pretty black and a woman.” He replies word for word about what he had told Varisha two days ago.

Keenan's brows rise at the audacity of the man before him to question his decision. “So you’re saying I have a biased judgement and you know better than me.”

“I’m sorry, never meant to do that.”

Keenan glares at him all the while gritting his teeth, trying to control his anger words, “But you did. Next time you want to talk about this great country, bear in black that I am an Italian. If you don’t enjoy working with foreigners, I’d advise you to quit now because your boss is one.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” He apologizes again, his eyes down remorsefully.

“And as for these,” he says, and she watches as he roughly hands the documents in his hands over to Max, just like Max had done to her earlier. “She’s not doing it cause she’s going out to lunch with me and if you don’t like that, you can quit now.” Keenan storms off after he says that, and she falls in line with him.

Whoever came up with the phrase Italian devil for Keenan Hilton was so right, and this devil was intimidating.