TTBI .19

                                    

                                          

I dropped my bag on the table.
"How can I help you?"
                          
I smiled at her. She was totally lost.
                          
" I'm sorry but you've kinda mixed things up. This is my table. I Said politely. My desk. I said possessively. My open space office. I claimed. If you would kindly get up... You'll gladly be escorted to the waiting room where you could wait to see the manager. I'm sure she's in" 
                          
She seemed preoccupied tearing the nylon of gum than listening to me. She threw the gum into her mouth and nearly popped it afterwards. Then she picked up her receiver, dailed a number and spoke quietly into the phone. While I just stood there waiting impatiently for her. When she was done she replaced the receiver and sat up with a big flashy smile- which was obviously fake. Then knitted her fingers together on my desk.
                          
"Who are you again?" She asked all of a sudden.
                          
I stared at her. Who was this lady?
                          
" Oh. I know you. Aren't you the runaway secretary everyone's talking about?" She muttered and fell into her chair.
                          
"Excuse me!" 
                          
"Okay then" she chuckled while peering into her desk drawer. Then she stretched out a flat brown envelope towards me afterwards.
                          
     I eyed her suspiciously. "What's that?" I thundered.
                          
"This is a bank. She raised her voice -sternfaced. Could you speak more quietly. She said sheepishly. Why don't you open it and tell me what it says? I'm eager to know myself." She chuckled yet again.
                          
It was officially. She was crazy.
                          
"Rita?"
                          
    I turned around to find Boma approach me. My heart leapt for joy seeing the only person that actually appreciated my existence. Her smile warm and sweet was like ice to my bad temper. Boma Richards was the typical Nigerian igbo one expected to find abroad with her perfect queens english and blemish free skin. I'd mistake her for an european if it were the first time I saw her.
                          
    She wore a white chiffon top with puffed sleeves reaching her wrists and black ankle reaching fitted office trousers. Her kitten heels glittered under the light and behind her. Her hair was done in a french twist. She embraced me immediately while feeling my temperature through my neck.
                          
"What happened? She asked dazed. Were you sick? An accident? What?" She breathed in curiosity.
                          
I withdrew from her. 
                          
"That could wait. I said pleasantly. But, could you please tell me what this lady is doing at my desk? Refusing to get up and acting like she's the secretary?"
I gazed scornfully at her. Boma cringed. Her eyes darting around like a theif.
                          
"Well I think you've got to see stella First so she can explain everything to you." Boma picked up the letter.
Stella was everyones manager.
                          
" Well I think you should read your letter." The other said. Her cherry red lips widening into a smile.
                          
   I stretched my hands out to Boma.
"My letter?" 
                          
"You've got to meet Stella first."
                          
I frowned at her. Then snatched it from her and tore it open before she could stop me.
                          
She looked away instantly as I unfolded the paper and quickly scanned through it. The world seemed to stop for a while. All forms of sound totally gone. Inevitable wetness between my legs. The air conditioned busy hall became hot suddenly. I fought the great urge to cry. My hands trembled. The whole place beginning to collapse.
                          
"What's this?" My voice shook as the paper withered to the cold ground.
                          
"I'm sorry." Boma whispered.
                          
"It's simple Rita Simpson. You've been fired. You've got exactly five minutes to pack your bags and leave this hall and failure to comply would lead to help by security." She chuckled nastily.
                          
The stranger at my desk...