Chapter two

CHAPTER TWO

I stepped into the conglomerate, my footsteps cautious on the glass floor that always made me anxious. The fragility of glass seemed out of place for such a bustling business, where wood or marble would have been a safer, more solid choice.

Workers moved in a flurry of activity, a hive of industry oblivious to my presence. I kept my gaze low, lacking the confidence to meet anyone's eyes.

"That's Derek!" someone called out behind me, freezing me in my tracks.

What did I do this time?

Then it hit me – I was the coffee guy, and maybe I had left everyone waiting for their caffeine fix.

"A cup of coffee latte," a hurried voice demanded.

"Two cups of green tea, no milk," another voice added.

The orders kept coming, one after another, until I escaped to the coffee room, my sanctuary.

I jabbed at the elevator buttons, but the doors didn’t budge. My hands shook, making it harder to balance the tray loaded with coffee cups. A white towel draped over my arm, a constant reminder of the time I spilled coffee on the Financial Secretary’s cocktail dress.

It had been a disaster.

Finally, the elevator doors opened. I looked up and immediately wished I hadn't.

Malika Badu.

Her tall, imposing figure filled the doorway. She had a straight face, scanty lash extensions, and nude lips. She wore a corporate outfit: a long red dress with a high slit that revealed her thighs and a plunging neckline.

I had read Robert Green’s The Art of Seduction, and Malika embodied “The Siren.”

If asked, I'd say her seductive presence was overwhelming. It wouldn’t surprise me if she showed up to work nude one day. On Central News TV, her appearances were so provocative no parent would let their kids watch.

Her every step, every sway of her hips, commanded attention.

I quickly bowed my head.

"Madam," I murmured, not daring to look up.

She walked past, her perfume lingering in the air – a sophisticated Paris fragrance, I guessed.

As the sound of her red-bottom heels faded, I entered the elevator, which smelled just like her. Just like expensive temptation.

I exited on the workers’ floor, distributing the coffees. Distracted, I collided with Yen.

"Aargh! Hot coffee!" she screamed, jumping back and trying to brush it off her blouse.

Laughter erupted around us.

I grabbed the towel and started dabbing at her shirt, but she slapped my hands away.

"You perv!" she snapped. Her almond-shaped eyes blazed, her shiny, possibly oily skin glowing under her makeup. Her red lips matched her hair.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"You're always sorry," she retorted, storming off.

"Watch it, blind coffee man. A shirt costs five dollars!" someone hollered.

I bent down, picked up the coffee cups, and nodded, leaving the scene quickly.

I was halfway across the floor when Mustafa blocked my path. He was a towering figure with a thick mustache arching over a forest of beards.

"Ms. Badu needs your attention now," he said.

Fear threatened to overtake me, but I composed myself and followed Mustafa, leaving the workers' area behind. My mind replayed the incident with Yen. Her fierce presence reminded me of Mulan. As I trailed behind Mustafa, a sense of impending doom settled over me.

I reached Malika’s office, the air thick with tension. Just as I was about to knock, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A quick glance showed an urgent message from my landlord.

Eviction notice.

My heart sank. How was I supposed to focus now?

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to push the worry to the back of my mind. My hand trembled slightly as I knocked on Malika’s door.

“Come in,” her voice called, cold and commanding.

I stepped inside, the scent of her perfume even stronger in the confined space. Malika was seated behind her sleek glass desk, her sharp eyes locking onto mine.

“You wanted to see me, Ms. Badu?” I managed to say, keeping my voice steady.

“Yes, Derek. Come closer,” she said, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.

I walked up to her desk, feeling like a lamb approaching a lioness. She looked me up and down, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

“I heard about the incident with Yen. Is that going to be a regular occurrence?” she asked, her voice silky yet menacing.

“No, Madam. It was an accident. I assure you, it won’t happen again,” I replied quickly.

“Good,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Because we can’t afford any more slip-ups. Especially not with the investors visiting next week.”

“I understand,” I said, nodding.

“Do you?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Do you really understand what’s at stake here?”

Before I could respond, there was a sudden commotion outside her office. The door burst open and Yen stormed in, her face flushed with anger.

“Ms. Badu, I need to speak with you!” she demanded, ignoring my presence entirely.

Malika’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Yen, I’m in the middle of something. This better be important.”

“It is,” Yen insisted, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. “I can’t work under these conditions. That clumsy fool spilled coffee all over me, and now the whole office is laughing at me!”

I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. Yen’s outburst was drawing everyone’s attention.

Malika’s expression hardened. “Yen, control yourself. We will discuss this later.”

“No! We discuss this now!” Yen shouted, slamming her hands on Malika’s desk.

The tension in the room was palpable. I stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. Just as Malika opened her mouth to respond, the fire alarm blared, startling us all.

“What now?” Malika hissed, standing up abruptly.

People were already evacuating, their hurried footsteps echoing through the halls. I glanced at Malika, who was clearly seething, and then at Yen, who looked just as confused as I felt.

“We need to leave,” I said, finding my voice. “It might be a real fire.”

Malika shot me a withering look but nodded. “Fine. Yen, let’s go.”

We all hurried out of the office, joining the throng of employees heading for the exits. The alarm continued to blare, adding to the chaos. As we made our way outside, I couldn’t help but think that this day couldn’t get any worse.

Once we were safely outside, the fire trucks arrived, and the firemen rushed into the building. I looked around at the gathered employees, their faces a mix of annoyance and concern.

“What a mess,” Yen muttered beside me, crossing her arms.

I nodded, feeling utterly defeated. Just then, my phone buzzed again. Another message from my landlord, more aggressive this time.

I sighed, staring at the screen. How was I going to deal with this? My job was already hanging by a thread, and now I had to worry about finding a new place to live.

“Derek, are you okay?” a voice asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I turned to see Mustafa, his expression unusually sympathetic. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just a lot on my mind.”

He gave me a knowing look. “If you need help, just ask. We’re all in this together, remember?”

I nodded, grateful for his words but unsure of what help anyone could offer. As the fire alarm finally stopped and the firemen gave the all-clear, we began to file back into the building.

The day was far from over, and I had a feeling my troubles were just beginning.