Unspoken And Unexpected Desire

I was lying curled up on my twin trundle bed when I began to hear my grandfather's voice echoing from the balcony downstairs.

"Kate, honey, could you come join me for a minute? I've made some yummy pancakes," he announced in his typical playful voice.

I rolled lazily from side to side. Wasn't it ten minutes ago that we had some French fries for breakfast?

"They are really good," his voice reverberated again.

"Okay, grandpa," I responded lazily and knowingly.

"Just give me a moment to change."

"Alright, honey," he said.

Grandfather has always been like this, treating me like his little pet. Since my graduation from the university of California and the subsequent employment letter I received a week ago from Murphy's company, this loving, patronizing attitude of his has worsened or, should I say, become much more affectionate. Either way, it sometimes made me feel precious, while other times it just made me sick.

I let out an indulgent smile. Just yesterday, he had tried serenading me to bed like a little toddler.

"James should be the one doing all these grandpa." I had said laughing but he had continued without a care in the world.

I smiled again to myself before stretching out and getting up from the bed.

I ran my hands over the foolscap sheets and three files laying diagonally on my personal table, my laptop beside them with its backlight popping on and off at intervals, fluctuating my Tiger's face screensaver.

My phone vibrated on the desk the next minute, I leaned forwards to check who it was and smiled when I saw that it was the love of my life James.

"Hello Katie..." James voice pierced through the phone

"Hi darling, on your way back now?"

"Almost, If only the frigging roads weren't so choked up."

I let out a quick laugh and said

"Be patient honey, don't forget the Chicken salad, grandpa is about to render my tongue sour with too many fries over here, hope you took my card with you."

"Yeah, staring at it right now."

" Alright, get for yourself too." I said.

"Of course, I wasn't coming to watch you eat." He replied sarcastically.

I laughed again.

"Outta here, you're so unserious." I teased before finally hanging up.

I smiled to myself for a minute as I allowed my thoughts rest on James for a moment.

It was about two years now since he started living with me. And since then,life at the house have become so much more easier for me and grandpa. He helps us run little errands like this with my car round the city without any complain whatsoever.

I loved men with a healthy self esteem. He did not seem to mind that I was doing relatively better than himself, education wise and more recently, career wise. Immediately after my graduation from California state university, luck had shone on me once again as the first job application I made was to one of the biggest

Corporations in California, The popular Murphy Stone's Group. I had applied as an accountant but I had gotten the job of a secretary. Despite all these breakthroughs James had never shown any atom of envy. Perhaps he was this way because of his background as a billionaire's son.

His family was one of the richest families in California, even the founder and CEO of the company I had applied to had a name that resembled James's family name; the Gudamayers. But he had cleared me up that, according to him, they were not related, perhaps he was a distant relative.

James was not particularly a perfect person he had his issues with drugs alcohol and overspending even his billionaire dad had disowned him and sent him away from the house years ago after he was caught so many times squandering company money to fuel his habit.

So it wasn't as if James and I did not have issues because of this, but they were issues I was ready to forgo because of his other positive qualities, particularly his loyalty and faithfulness to what we shared. He has never cheated on me since the five years we started dating. That wasn't something most men could give. Hence I was ready to overlook his little shortcomings, I believed a lot will change about him after our marriage. James was teachable.

I could totally see a future with him, I

Envisaged a perfect marriage with him. A peaceful isolated life inside a small cozy house surrounded by a white picket fence, a pair of kids, alongside a dog and a cat perhaps.

I rubbed my palms over my face and re-read the acceptance letter I had prepared.

"Still feels like a dream," I whispered to myself. I just couldn't believe that I could get so lucky and so quickly too.

On my employment letter, it was stated that I am to resume on Monday. Today was a Saturday. I would be resuming as the new secretary to the CEO of one of the largest, richest multinational corporations in the whole of San Francisco; The popular Murphy Stone. I had never personally met him, like I said earlier, I even assumed he was related to James, because his name was not new to me. The Stones were renowned as a family of billionaires, and the immense wealth they commanded is as ancient as the city itself, inherited across five generations. It was indeed a family of old money.

I stared at the only photo enlargement in my room. The one I had taken standing in a pink nondescript dress at the orchard, with grandfather standing next to me, his arm over my shoulder, a childlike smile plastered on his wise, wizened face."

"I will miss him so much," I muttered again to myself.

By this time next week, I will have to pack out with James completely into the staff housing block located within the company's estate. That was also part of the necessary bureaucracy associated with the job. If not, I would not have minded going to work from here. I am all he's got, and he is all I've got. That's been the constant since my birth. Raised by my grandfather, I was merely three years old when tragedy struck-losing my parents and grandmother in a plane crash.

Grandpa and my nanny, miss Lancelot, had been the only father and mother I know. It must have been difficult for him. I sensed the hardship for a man as sensitive as grandpa I could tell, but for my sake, he had mastered himself and had conquered the trauma so he could give me a life and a shoulder to lean. Why I was still thinking of grandpa a thought suddenly occurred to me. An idea that would help me cope with the guilt I always felt whenever I thought of leaving.

"Yes." I murmured I nodded vigorously.

The idea was to reach out to miss Lancelot asking her to come over and stay with grandpa when I finally moved with James.

I have discussed it with grandpa before and he says he is fine with it, but he is only pretending; I know him inside and out like the back of my palm. I know he is only feigning understanding. I see the worried creases beneath his chin and the redness in his swollen eyes. That is why we have had over fifteen different segments of 'family moments' since the past three days.

"If that's what he wants, then he'll totally get it. Grandpa deserves so much more" I said again to myself.

"Kate," Grandpa's voice echoed in again. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, sweet grandpa, I'll be right with you."

I flipped my laptop closed and hurriedly opened the door as I made for the sitting room downstairs in my nightgown, no longer bothering to change.

Katie, sweetie, you almost took forever," Grandpa grumbled light-heartedly.

"I know, Poppa, and I'm sorry," I apologized, rubbing my hand over his back to soothe him.

"Come on, darling, you know you can do no wrong. You know that?" He asked, almost too seriously.

"I know, come on, Poppa... I mean, how couldn't I?" I made a face and chuckled.

"And oh, where are those heavenly pancakes? Poppa's girl is finally here to dig in, ready to gain some weight!" I cheered, flapping my hands.

Grandpa got up charismatically, immediately assuming the character of a chef. "Just sit... like a queen right there, let me go get them," he said, tottering towards the microwave. He added, "Trust me, Walmart's got nothing on me."

I giggled aloud.

After pancakes with Grandpa, he had fallen fast asleep, lying haphazardly on the couch, while I sat next to him, propping him up to rest more comfortably.

My smartphone rang repeatedly, I assumed James had arrived already so I hurriedly picked without checking who the caller was.

"James, should I come open the gates."

"The gates of heaven I presume."

I wrinkled my face when I heard the familiar feminine voice. I glanced at my screen for the second time and saw that it was my best friend Chloe.

. Chloe had been my friend since high school. If I were to put it correctly, I would say she was my ride or die.

"Hi, Prom girl sorry, James I got of the phone not too long ago."

"What's up, battleship priestess Still with that guy?" Chloe mocked, she had never really liked James.

"No going out today?" She asked.

"Well, I was actually planning to, but what do I say now when my grandpa is just beside me," I said jocularly.

"Grandpa? Come on, old boy is a man of his own, why don't you just let the poor man be, young lady?" Chloe continued her teasing.

"Shut your trash hole," I said, feigning anger.

"Whenever you're ready, I'm actually at the Linea shop," she said.

"The coffee shop?" I inquired.

"Yeah, just casually staring at some cute rich white boys... Why don't you come join, mama, will you afterall you'll be leaving us soon?"

"Always... always the boys for you," I mocked.

"Get over here, schoolgirl," she voiced.

I paused and took a quick glance at grandpa on the couch, who was still fast asleep, before I said, "Save me a seat."

"That's my girl," Chloe continued with her jesting.

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes before I hung up.

At the coffee shop, from the outside, I could see the brilliant pale golden lighting of the interior from a distance. The tables were arranged side by side with brown vintage-styled umbrellas hovering over each of them. It had a lot of wealthy-looking patrons seated on the arranged chairs, engaged in conversations. Immediately as I went past the central transparent glass, I instantly caught the brown, humid smell of the coffee. When I turned, I saw Chloe sitting at a corner on one of the chairs, her legs crossed. Then she blinked with one eyelid naughtily alongside a head gesture that meant 'Take your order.'

While shaking my head in resignation, I approached one of the baristas who warmly greeted me, offering a charming smile as she handed me the Americano Chloe had ordered.

As I prepared to pivot and head towards Chloe's direction, a tall man clad in an expensive three-piece suit abruptly dashed into me. The cup I was holding tumbled, and some of its contents splattered onto his white shirt. Chloe immediately stood up and ran towards us.

'I'm so sorry,' I said to the man.

'She's so sorry, sir. We apologize,' Chloe pleaded on my behalf.

'Sorry?' The man asked with an angry smile. 'Sorry is not enough, young lady. Your blind ass should at least look carefully before you leap so you don't go pouring coffee on the president tomorrow,' the man fumed.

'I beg your pardon,' I retorted. Chloe tried to restrain me, but I shoved her off.

'You beg my what?' the man asked, not believing his ears.

'I said I beg your pardon. Who the hell do you think you are?'

'Kate!' Chloe yelled my name, pulling at my arm, but I flung it away.

'Do you know who you are talking to, young lady?' the man asked again.

'Do I look like I care? Are you the pope? And even if you were, do I look like one of your aides?' I shrieked bitterly.

'You don't go about talking to people like that. Get off your high horse, please,' I continued.

The man's perplexed expression remained unchanged as he gazed at me silently. He brushed a small droplet of liquid off his shirt sleeve and stormed out of the coffee shop without saying a thing.

It was only after he had left that I noticed every eyes had been on me, including the shop owner, observing the situation from the beginning. Several people came up to me saying:

'I hope you don't regret this?'

'Do you even know who that man is?'

"Who is he?" Chloe queried on my behalf.

I sat on my executive chair, spinning slowly round on its rotating wheel. The coffee I had just taken was one of the most tasteless I had tasted in a while. I pushed the coffee cup aside in disappointment. This was why I visited and continued visiting Linea's coffee shop. Anyway, I was in a good mood today; if not, this was enough to place whoever made this on probation, and if care was not taken, an immediate sack.

No wonder father always opined that the problem of my generation was how lackadaisical they always were when it came to duty and responsibility, but always ready to fly into a variety of protests demanding unearned privileges. So many people are protesting now and raising idiotic placards all over America because of stupid school of thoughts like this.

"Good God," I exclaimed. "'He who cannot work, should not eat.' Or is that not how the Christians quote it?"

"But mind you, Stone enterprise did not get to the pinnacle of national and global recognition on the oars of laziness and slothfulness. My grandfathers never allowed that, neither did my father. So, God forbid that I, Murphy Alexander Stone, the first legitimate son of William Stone the 2nd, lead this Empire in such a way. Since this company was founded I have kept both old and new staff on their toes. We are currently expecting some staff on Monday; they too are going to feel the heat. Laziness was forbidden here."

"Forbidden," I said aloud again, snapping my fingers.

Someone knocked twice and gently again on my office door.

"Yes, come in," I ordered.

The door went ajar, and my director of IT operations walked in briskly. He was a bald-headed man wearing a blue-striped sleeve shirt and dark trousers.

"Good day, sir."

"Yes, Mr. Davis," I answered, wearing a bored expression.

"We got the official Injunction letters that were handed out on the 5th, two pair each, per segmented office."

"Yes," I concurred impatiently.

"I think the CCTV control staff were left out, sir."

After his complaint, I let out a smile, which many of my staff were already used to. When I smiled that way, it usually made them wish I had frowned instead, because I always ended up being angrier than someone wearing a frown. So, it was understandable to see Mr. Davis beginning to shiver when I smiled. But he was lucky I was in a good mood.

"Mr. Davis, complaints like this should be meant for the ears of the secretary. How long do I have to keep singing about protocol to you guys, Mr. man?"

"But, sir, we don't have a sec-"

"Is Monday too far for you?" I asked again, cutting him off. "Or would grass start sprouting from your head by then, pray tell, or maybe three days in the real world is thirty years for you. If you don't tell us, we may never know."

"But... But"

"Please leave, Mr. Davis. Leave before I lose it."

He hurriedly stood up to leave with his head bowed and hands kept behind.

Soon after he locked the door, I heard another knock. Irritated, I muttered, "Mr. Davis, you are playing with your job. So many unemployed people on the streets, you know..."

However, the voice I heard behind the door was a woman's voice, saying, "There's no Mr. Davies here, Mr. Stop clowning."

Initially puzzled, I immediately dropped my guard. Only one woman in the world could use that language with me-her name was Amanda Winterstone. My high school classmate and closest female acquaintance, though she worked for a rival corporation, the fiercest we have seen so far, Pharrell Tech Institute. She came once in a while, and I was hoping I could perhaps get to them through her. After all, what were friends for?

"Come on in, drama queen," I said in a more relaxed tone.

The door opened to reveal a lady in a red bubble dress. Her legs were long and sexy, her eyes bright and hazel.

"CEO, I see you were in one of these fights with your staff as usual, I guess," she remarked mockingly, sashayed forward and taking a seat without permission, crossing her legs.

"Hey, miss, you're supposed to ask for my permission before taking that seat, you know. Courtesy demands that," I said.

"Courtesy my pale ass," she laughed. "Should I maybe suck at your balls too while at it?"

"You know you wouldn't try that at Pharrell, I maintained."

"I wouldn't, or would you?"

"Phew," I exclaimed. There was no winning with her. I decided to change the topic.

"Have you guys started typing coversheets for the Glenmont contractor?"

"Yeah, up and ready," she said. "On the 13th is our meeting date with them."

She paused, staring at me before she said, "You?"

"Well, we've sorted that. You know how we work here."

She smiled in a way that said she understood.

"Would you please not stress too much," her voice was low. "You need to take care of yourself."

Then slowly and hesitantly, she added, "For me."

I looked up, and we were quietly staring at each other when my phone rang, breaking the silence. The call was from Ziegler, one of my business connections at Park Avenue. He was at the coffee shop and told me to meet him up at Linea.

Ordinarily, I might not have gone, but I needed an excuse to leave the office, particularly now when I was face to face with the leer in Amanda's eyes. Secondly, it was Linea, of all places; an opportunity to cleanse my tongue of the abomination I had this morning in the name of coffee. I reached out for my jacket.

"Going where?" Amanda asked calmly, like she could understand why I was leaving.

"Important business acquaintance," I said. "Man wants us to meet up at his place. You know me, I don't like to leave hanging deals unsealed," I lied.

"Alright," she nodded. "When next are we seeing?" she proceeded to ask.

"I don't know, maybe the day after tomorrow would be a good time."

Upon reaching the coffee shop, I dialed Ziegler's contact, but his response was that I should please wait, that he would be right back in some minutes. He had left to get something. I hissed; it wasn't like I had actually come here particularly because of him. I marched through the transparent glass door and was about to make a turn to the left when a lady ran into me with a hot cup of coffee, splashing the content on me.

I expected that she might maybe bow or attempt to clean up her mess, but she stood rooted to the same spot. All that could come out of her mouth was a pathetic, "I'm sorry, sir."

"Sorry?" I asked in my typical angry smile. "Sorry is not enough, young lady. Your blind ass should at least look carefully before you leap, so you don't go pouring coffee on the president tomorrow," I fumed.

However, the lady had summoned the guts to look me in the face and say, "I beg your pardon?"

"You beg my what?" I asked, wondering if perhaps the lady was on some cheap drugs. Was she even aware who she was talking to?

"I said I beg your pardon, who the hell do you think you are?" she repeated more acidly.

"Do you know who you are talking to, young lady?" I asked again.

Do I look like I care? Are you the pope? And even if you were, do I look like one of your aides?" she was shrieking. "No one on the planet has ever spoken to me in such a way be it at work or in my family This lady was going to pay for her insults, if not today, certainly tomorrow." I ground my teeth and said nothing else, storming out of the shop in a fit of rage, as I heard the shop owner's voice calling me back with pleading tones.

"I Know what to do." I murmured on my way out.