Chapter 5 A blast from the past

"please place your order. I have other customers to attend to" Kemi said amidst tears. She has been fighting the urge to break a man's head since she walked to that table. And since she cannot, she just wants to cry.

Can this guy just leave her alone already? The restaurant was becoming full. And Mr. Claude has been giving her side-eyes ever since she stood there waiting to take the order.

The thing is, she cannot leave. The other thing is, she cannot stay. She turned to look at the gentleman who looked quite "gentlemanly" but wasn't acting as such because he was on his phone acting like none of this was his business.

"Sterl, do you think she is a broken tape? She sounds like one"

She paused.

It's gradually graduating into an insult. God, for a minute, did she think this guy was actually sensible? Not everyone who drives a good car and looks nice, actually has common sense. she thought to herself.

She smiled and turned to leave. Her eyes met Mr. Claude's . She gritted her teeth and turned back to meet the "gentlemen".

"Sir, please. Our company has strict rules of not mistreating customers. So if you could please just order so I get to my business of the day. As you can see, we're quite popular" she gestured "and other customers are waiting to be served" .

She begged.

Yes, she was begging.

She had to beg.

Her whole life depended on this job, and she cannot lose it just because of two lousy heads were not ready to listen to her , but use her for their amusement. Jeddah let out a laugh.

A hearty one.

A genuine one.

"Did you hear that Sterl? She's begging. Oh, what do we do? What do we do? What do we do?"

Silence followed.

"You know what? Maybe some other time".

Jeddah concluded. Putting on his dark shades and standing up

Kemi paused.

Is he being serious? Ah! God why did you allow this? She questioned bitterly as she watched him make his way out of the restaurant.

She turned to head back to the counter just then she the door opened.

"Welcome to..."

She Paused

She didn't stop. Didn't glance at the customer. She walked slowly, deliberately, like she hadn't seen the person who just came in.

"Girl, what was that about?" Tasha was already by the counter, eyes wide. "Why was he treating you like that? Do you know him? Was he going to flirt with you? Give me the tea!"

She didn't wait for answers.

"You don't talk to me no more, that's not you, girl!" Tasha rambled on and on, words spilling like a broken tape-according to the bad boy. The bad influence.

Kemi stayed quiet, fumbling through some menus, pretending to be busy. Trying to distract herself from the figure that had just walked into the restaurant.

Oh God, I'm in trouble, she muttered under her breath.

How did he find me? Did I not hide well enough? How did he find me?

The questions ran through her head in a loop. She repeated them, trying to keep her voice low, trying to stay calm, trying not to look distracted.

Trying not to look scared.

That was the word-scared.

This man terrified her. He had scared the hell out of her since she was a child. She had run from everything she loved, to a place no one knew her. A place where she knew nobody. A place that was supposed to be safe.

And still, he found her.

Where was she going to run to again?

Her head spun. Her thoughts raced like her mind had sprinted a thousand miles away-and wasn't planning on returning any time soon.

"Kemi. I want to see you. In the kitchen. Now."

Mr. Claude's voice snapped her back to the present. She could've cried with relief.

He just saved my life.

She raised her head slowly and tilted it slightly as if still gathering herself. It didn't matter. She followed Mr. Cloud into the kitchen, footsteps dragging. Just before she shut the door behind her, she turned.

He was walking out.

Hands in the pocket of his hoodie. That same dark hoodie. Black on black on black. Everything about him was dark-his clothes, his eyes, his intentions, his life.

Her chest tightened.

"What were you doing with those customers? And why-why are you losing your cool these days? That's not like you. What's going on with you?"

Mr. Claude's voice was stern now. Firm. Serious.

"You can talk to me, you know."

"I'm sorry, sir. Honestly, nothing is going on with me. I'm just... I'm fine."

She apologized again and again. But she wasn't fine. She knew it.

She hadn't been fine since the moment she saw him again.

"Kemi, do you know why you're my best staff?" Mr. Claude voice softened.

"You make people want to come back. You make them feel like this place is home. You are home. And home stops being home if it turns toxic. If it becomes a distraction. If it stops satisfying."

He looked her straight in the eye.

"Kemi, do you still want this job? Are you tired of it? Do you have a better offer somewhere?"

She had never heard him like this.

"No, sir. I'm 100% sure I love this job. And I need it. I don't have any offers. I don't have anywhere else to go."

She swallowed hard.

"I promise-I'm in the game. I'll do better."

She meant every word. But inside, her head was screaming. Her thoughts were betraying her.

She watched Mr. Claude walk out of the kitchen.

And then her heart sank again.

He found me.

How?

Who told him where I work?

How long has he been watching me?

Has he seen me every morning?

How long has he been stalking me?

Her job-her only hope, her only survival-was hanging by a thread.

And Kemi knew one thing for sure:

She had to act fast.

Kemi ran into her room as fast as she could. She yanked open her wardrobe, grabbing every piece of clothing she could reach and tossing them everywhere-on the floor, on the bed, anywhere her hands landed.

She pulled out her big box from under the bed and stuffed everything inside. It didn't matter how rumpled or tangled they were. She didn't care. She just needed to leave. Now.

She needed to get out of that apartment. Out of that street. Away from him.

She knew how crazy he was. Crazy enough to rent a house near hers. Crazy enough to become her neighbour.

If he was that close-she was doomed.

She kept packing without thinking. She picked up her shoes, a bag of toiletries, a photo frame. She scanned the room one last time, but she didn't care if she was forgetting anything. She didn't care what she left behind.

She just had to go.

She dragged her box to the door, left it half open, and ran down the stairs, heart pounding, legs trembling.

She didn't know where she was going.

She just knew she had to get away.

And fast.

Her race ended at Fifth Avenue-a place that felt distant enough from where she used to live, distant enough to disappear. She scanned the street, eyes sweeping left to right, head turning with instinctive caution. She needed to be sure. She needed to feel safe.

Of course, she would be safe. She had broken her safe box for this.

If she could stay hidden here, she didn't mind.

"Thank you so much. Please forward the documents to my email so we can finalize everything."

She concluded the meeting with the house agent-a woman with a warm, practiced smile. Homely and pleasant, but only when the money flowed. Only when rent was paid. Only when her cut was secured.

Jeddah had just returned from a meeting with one of the biggest inventors in the city-people who could take his business further, give him more wind in his sail.

Driving past one of his properties, he noticed Mrs. Mary stepping out, beaming. She had made a profit. She had bought another investment. More for her. More for him.

He smiled in quiet victory.

He smiled in prowess.

Not that the building brought in that much. But to him, every penny was still money. And money, no matter how small, was still power.