Blind And In Love

Hatred is such a very strong feeling. When you hate someone, all they did just make you more pissed than you were. And if they stayed still without doing anything? You hate them even more and think they were plotting evil against you. A smile, or rather, a smirk from the person you hate could have the urge to make your most recent picture to be a mugshot with ‘murder’ written boldly on the crime section. Right now, that’s how she was feeling whenever she stared at his face while he presented whatever trash it was he had prepared.

And one more thing she hated about him, his brain. He was so intelligent that even though she was used to not having to try so hard, she had to. Because it was never enough whenever he was involved, nothing was ever enough. It felt like he always exhausted her most recent upgrade and then she had to spend her nights trying to figure out how she could upgrade the newest version of herself she had released.

She didn’t know what was happening until she heard the round of applause and that brought her out of her reverie. And when she momentarily lifted her eyes and have them spared his face a glance, the smirk she saw on his face emanated he had finished presenting his project and this company, would likely choose his company’s project instead of her own. And that smirk, why was it that he made her fancied a mugshot? It could be once in her life. But she knew there would be a day when she would have no choice but to force a knife down his egoistic throat.

The applause died down and she placed her hand back while trying to pack the few things she had come with. That’s why she hated being interested in whatever projects she knew he would have a liking in. And right now, while the CEO of Mangal Group of companies spoke with him and told him that they would like Labo Group, his company, to work with them, she wanted to choke on her throat. She wanted to scream her lungs out and tell them all to get the hell out of her sight because if care wasn't taken, the next thing that would wrap around her wrists wouldn’t be her favorite bracelets, it would be a handcuff.

“Thank you, Mr Lateef.” She heard as he busily thanked the people around the humungous table with that smirk on his face. Why was it that he was hell-bent on making her a criminal, for Allah’s sake?

She knew all eyes were on her, waiting to see if she would congratulate him. Almost everyone knew about their hatred for each other. Almost all the companies they had worked with, knew and sometimes, enjoyed the little glares they shot at each other. Because to them, it was a win-win. That would certainly force them to bring out their best for they knew of their competitor which they hated.

“Congratulations, Mr Hammad.” She said through gritted teeth, forcing a smile out of he lips and she watched the way he relaxed on his chair. As though to show her that he was indeed the boss here and it was high time she upgraded this version of herself. A quick correction, this version of her brain.

“Thank you, Miss...” he stopped mid-way, to show her that he had forgotten her name and wanted her to help him on it. The look that flashed on her face was enough to burn down the entire building and she had already cupped the water bottle beside her and was aiming to throw it at him when one woman on the table decided to be an angel and she saved Hammad from her wrath.

How dare he acted as if he had forgotten her name? The hell! She knew he didn’t and this was his own way of making sure he had belittle her and she would be damned if by the next business proposal she wouldn’t have to throw him back to where he belonged, on the ground, that is.

“I want to ask a very personal question,” the woman began, watching as the other people on the table have already started to pack their things. She was staring at Hammad, and that gave her the chance to begin clearing her things before she added ‘unprofessional’ attached to her unending list of names.

“Is she by chance your sister?” She asked, her eyes slowly turning to her and she had made it mandatory upon herself to leave this conference room with her dignity intact, she would have resulted to violence in any given moment.

“Who?” Came his voice, coated with what she knew to be as anger whenever someone asked that question and annoyance. She hated this question and wanted to know in the whole world why would people’s eyes have no one to see her resemblance with but him?

“Miss Yusrah, of course. I'm sure I'm not the only one that’s curious about that. She looks so much like you...” When Yusrah threw her a glance, she chuckled. “You look so much like her...” And the next glance came from him, which made her burst out laughing. “You both look alike, that’s all.”

“She’s not my sister, not my relative...I'll hate to be related to her, to be truthful. I don’t know how y’all see our resemblance, is it because she’s a woman that looks less than one and now she resembles a softer male version of myself?” He asked tauntingly. By this time, half the room was empty and the only people there were people from both their companies waiting for them to be done so they could leave, and they all had that look that screamed how used to all this they were.

“Can you come over again?” Yusrah asked, staying rooted to her spot for if she moved, she may have her hands wrapped around his neck and that mugshot would have to be taken today.

Hammad ignored her and turned to Mrs Sofiyat, “You have your answer, Mrs. And maybe if you could advice her to start wearing at least a colored lip balm, the feminine side of her may be prominent enough not to have our facial features mistakenly mixed, which is hurtful.” He was out of the room even before she took her next breath and when Mrs Sofiyat turned to her fuming self, she had an apologetic look on her face.

“Miss...” she began, but Yusrah wasn’t interested in whatever it was she had to say and quickly shook her head at her.

“Not the right time, Mrs Sofiyat. Thank you and have a nice day.” Should she have said ‘have the worse day ever in your life’? That way she may have let the sizzling anger in her out, but she would look awfully not professional and she didn’t want to demean her name because of that jerk.

Her secretary, Hannah, stared at her with a known look before she sighed. “I'll tell the driver to take you home, Miss Bawa.” She called her by her last name and even though Yusrah mostly hated it, it helped her in times like this to keep in track. To stay as professional as she could and not waver from the perfection she had set herself upon.

Hannah knew she would never work today and if she did, then certainly, a few of their employees would have to be fired and she knew what awaited her at home if she did that. She shot her a thankful glance and stormed out of the room. His words were running back to her brain as though they were teasing her nerves, making her angrier than she was. She sat silently in the car and watched as they drove through the busy streets of Lagos, with nothing but busy drivers trying so hard to reach their destinations at the esteemed time without being late, which mostly, they were. It was either that or they came out hours before the designated time.