My arrogant millionaire boss

Prologue

A gasp left me as I took in the person in front of me. Standing before me is the exact stranger I insulted when he asked me for directions when he got lost.

If I begrudgingly thought he was handsome that day, then today he's more handsome than he was then, standing on the other side of the door wearing clothes that look as if it was specially made for him.

His hair was gelled back and whenever I inhale I perceive his sweet scent that's purely male.

What's he doing here,

how is he related to Mr. Kalu?

Maybe he's their errand boy?

I tried to convince myself, but based on his dressing, you can deduce he's nothing like the errand boy I pegged him as.

I browsed through my memory of how I looked that day.

Recalling how snappy I was that day made me blush hard in embarrassment.

Seeing him here made me regret applying for the job, what if he tries to exact his revenge on me?

What if he humiliates me in the presence of Mr. Kalu?

What if_?

“Earth needs your awesome presence, miss,” he said in a smug.

I looked up to find him smiling at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Chapter 1

Looking back on this carriage life that they call life with a smile on your face, you will come to the same conclusions as I have.

#

The harmattan weather is always harsh.

This year's harmattan season isn't like the others. In Nigeria, harmattan season starts in December and stops around February time, but last year's harmattan season didn't start until February of this year after two months of intensive heat, making it the first late harmattan witnessed in Nigeria.

The streets were filled with layers of dust, a compliment of the season it is.

Snow falls in some countries during wintertime, but in ours ggetseye tearing dust.

I trudged along the paved way which is the only safe place to walk on if you want to escape the dust, although I was putting on three layers of clothing, I can still feel the stinging claws of harmattan on me.

My bones ache as though I ran a marathon with time.

Most of the children playing in the streets had split lips, and some unfortunate ones were burdened with calloused feet.

The stings of the season were mainly visible on the poor, they are recognized by the signature white of their body.

“Auntie good morning!!” Chorused the happy kids as I walked past their playing space.

They weren't bothered about the cold since they have friends to play with.

“Morning, ole otu unu di?" I smiled at them, “we are fine, thank you!!” They chorused as they resumed their game of tag.

I smiled at the cute little creatures, the children are the main reason I like walking to my mom's shop every morning instead of taking a motorcycle there, their smiles brighten my day as they have contagious smiles.

*

Walking towards Uzoma street, I frowned when I saw Kachi in his mother's shop, my brightened countenance turned sour.

I don't consider him an enemy, but he's certainly not a friend.

I turned my face towards the left pretending I haven't seen him, knowing it was a futile plan as he has already seen me, but it didn't deter me from hoping.

“Well, well, well, if it's not my pretty pretentious wife,” he cooed pathetically as I side stepped him with my face still turned.

As much as I love walking to shop to see the children, his also the reason I hate walking to shop.

“You know you can't ignore me forever nwanyim, the more you run from me, the more I give chases”, he threatened.

I didn't reply to his taunt I walked past him.

“You can't run forever!” he shouted as I turned a corner.

*

Almost near our shop, I stopped frowning.

I tried to smile, as my mom gets a kick whenever I frown.

“Madam sees the time you are coming to shop, I your maidservant has already swept the shop for you, "my friend Ifunanya joked.

I kept a long serious face, “oh sorry madam, I don't know you arrived earlier. I'm I apologize for my tardiness, it won't happen again,” I sarcastically said.

She laughed at my poker face, “gama Biko, I don't have your time, your mom is expecting you, and you know how she is when she's kept waiting. “ She joked.

I laughed as I entered our stall.

“ This one you are smiling today, itutara counter? Federal government onyeregi scholarship?” mom joked.

“Some people are just enemies of progress, ekwutumekwu, my enemies must be put to shame.

So, you want me to be sad abi?, okwalagi," I chuckled as my mom lightly spanks me.

“I don't have your time,” my mom countered as I walked into her production office.

My mom came from a rich, aristocratic family, but her entitlements were transferred to her younger sister when she got married to dad against her parent's wish.

They didn't only deprive her of her right, they disowned her.

My dad, on the other hand, came from a humble family of artisans, his father was a furniture maker and my father inherited his business when he _my grandpa_ passed on two years ago.

“Muna, Muna, Munachi!!” I jerked from my thoughts, my mom was giving me a funny look.

“ Good to have you back, earth requires your presence,” she looked at me as if I've committed an abomination by thinking.

“Mom, I was just lost I thought, you know”, I babbled.

“You better not get lost again, and better still don't go there at all. What were you thinking of exactly?”, she folded her arms.

“Wow woman, you've become an expert in bead making”, I tried to beg the question, I can tell she knows what am up to, but decided to give me a break as she continued making the bead bag in question, I let out a breath of relief.

“A for being an expert, wait until you see the teddy bears and flower vase I made, that when you will truly realize you have a professional mother”, she beamed with pride as she-cats walked out of the shop flaunting the beads she was putting on.

My mom was a model before she got married to dad, although she doesn't complain much about it, I know she misses those good ole days.

“You might be an expert in beading but you and I know am the professional wrapper, ana amakwanuaka?”, I scoffed.

“ Mtcheww, I don't blame you, I blame your father for spoiling you rotten with praises when it's obvious you didn't merit them”,

“hmm, I don't have much to say, my work speaks for itself. Good wine doesn't need an advertisement”, I pursed my lips.

We bickered back and forth as we got the shop ready for the day's sales.