In the opulent expanse of Moon Corporation's headquarters, the chief executive officer sank into a plush sofa in his lavishly adorned office, meticulously reviewing a document cradled in his hand. His assistant, a tall man in his early 30s whose crisp white shirt, perfectly tailored beige vest, and immaculate black trousers whispered of a refined elegance, swept into the office clutching a fresh batch of documents. He approached Michael's desk with a practiced grace, his footsteps resonating subtly on the smooth marble floor.
'President Michael,' the assistant announced, laying the documents on the coffee table close to the sofa where Michael sat. 'These are the contracts you'll be signing with George Enterprise during tomorrow morning's meeting.'
Michael, his face etched with concentration, glanced over at the papers before returning his attention to the document in his hand.
'President Michael,' the assistant said with a hint of concern, 'you haven't had lunch. Would it be all right if I buy you some afternoon tea?'
Michael glanced at his wristwatch and realised it was almost six-thirty. 'Okay,' Michael agreed, seemingly in a good mood. 'Are you familiar with Jimmy Carter Street?'
'Yes, sir. Do you want me to do a background check?' Robert, the assistant, enquired, wondering why Michael suddenly mentioned Jimmy Carter Street. Michael had been there earlier in the late afternoon for a meeting with a client. Could he be considering a business venture on that very street?
'Not yet,' Michael answered with a smile, a gentle warmth lighting up his usually cold nature. It caught Robert entirely off guard.
Was there a special occasion today? Robert was familiar with Michael's typically cold nature, so this change in behaviour seemed significant. 'Sir, did our company secure a project there?' Robert asked, hoping to glean some insider information.
'Yes, a special kind of project,' Michael replied, his smile lingering.
Robert's eyes lit up. 'That's fantastic! Can you tell me more? I'd love to hear about it. And maybe I could even inform the executives, if you'd like?'
Michael stood up and walked over to his desk, a faint smile playing on his lips. 'Robert, it's not something you need to know,' he stated, settling into his leather chair. 'But today is a good day. And I feel very happy.' He gestured for the documents with a tilt of his chin. Robert complied, handing them over in silence. Michael shuffled them absentmindedly. 'You may leave now,' he finally dismissed.
'Thank you, sir,' Robert responded, turning to go.
Robert reached the door when a sudden question, seemingly plucked from thin air, stopped him in his tracks. 'Do you have a girlfriend, Robert?' Michael asked, his gaze fixed on the papers in his hand.
Robert froze in his tracks, the absurdity of the question slamming into him. He couldn't understand why Michael would ask such a question out of nowhere. Could it be that he wanted to give Jessica a chance? Robert knew how much Michael disliked interacting with women, and Jessica, his rumoured girlfriend, had often felt frustrated by his coldness. Did Michael encounter someone new on Jimmy Carter Street today? Someone who made him think differently about… women? Who could it be?
Before he could filter the questions swirling in his head, Robert blurted out, 'Sir, is she the one you met on Jimmy Carter Street? Is she more beautiful than Jessica? Or perhaps, are you planning to propose to young Madam Jessica?'
Michael's smile vanished, replaced by a frosty glare. 'Robert,' he said, his voice clipped, 'there are some nonsense you shouldn't spat.'
'Sorry, sir. I won't mention Jessica to you again. I'll order the afternoon tea right away,' Robert quickly apologised, realising he had overstepped his boundaries. Seeing Michael's icy expression, he dared not say more and promptly left the office. 'He didn't even answer the question I asked,' Robert muttered to himself. 'Well, I didn't answer his either... that's a win-win,' he chuckled lightly.
Seated quietly in his office, Michael's thoughts raced to the young lady he had encountered earlier in the afternoon. A smile graced his face as he reminisced about her beautiful features. He couldn't help but wonder if she lived in the vicinity. Perhaps she was seeking employment? Michael had briefly glanced at one of the papers and caught a glimpse of her CV. With his photographic memory, he effortlessly recalled her name, Chioma Chima. His eyes sparkled, accentuating his handsome appearance. This was a new and exhilarating feeling for Michael. He had fallen in love with this girl he had met just hours ago.
The grand office door swung open. Robert approached Michael, holding a plastic bag. 'Here,' he mumbled, his voice hesitant, extending the bag to Michael while standing awkwardly before him.
'What is this?' Michael asked, feigning a slight surprise.
'Afternoon tea, sir,' Robert replied. 'Just as you… uh… requested, sir.'
Michael shrugged indifferently, a lazy smile playing on his lips. 'Who has afternoon tea at this hour?'
Robert didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He had asked Michael if he wanted afternoon tea and received a nod of approval to order it. Why was his president acting surprised and nonchalant? He was accustomed to Michael's cold demeanour. It was wise not to provoke his president to avoid his wrath.
'Perhaps you could take it back,' Michael offered, extending the bag to Robert. But just as Robert reached to take it, Michael glared at him coldly. 'You know how to take advantage of me.'
Robert appeared displeased. 'If you don't feel like having the afternoon tea, I could devour it for you,' he said, folding his arms.
Michael frowned at him. Then, he slowly opened the bag and discovered a blue box of chocolate scones, a box of buttermilk scones, blackberry meringue pie, a box of pastries, a cup of coffee, a box of fruit salad with apples, strawberries, and a bunch of bananas. Everything looked fresh and delectable, prompting Michael to blissfully smile at Robert. 'You know how to take care of your boss,' he remarked, gracefully beginning to eat. 'For being so good to me, I'll request the finance department to give you a bonus this month.'
Robert smiled, grateful to hear such praise from his president. However, he knew that Michael's happiness stemmed from something other than the afternoon tea. It was evident that it had to do with what or who he had encountered that afternoon, possibly related to Jimmy Carter Street. Robert couldn't help but wonder what it could be.
'Where did you purchase this afternoon tea?' Michael asked between bites, feeling immensely happy. 'It's expensive and delicious. Robert, you're quite extravagant. Tell me, did you win the lottery or steal from me?' He didn't seem perturbed. Today, Michael's happiness had everyone close to him wondering why, as it was a rare sight to witness this gentle and jubilant side of him.
'I bought it at Galaxy Coffee Shop, one of the most upscale coffee shops here in Abuja. It's frequented mostly by socialites, as ordinary people wouldn't be able to afford it,' Robert explained.
'Oh...' Michael's voice trailed off. After a moment of silence, a faint smile curved on his lips.
'Do you want more?' Robert asked softly.
Michael wished he could have a bag delivered to Chioma Chima, but he wasn't sure where to find her. 'I'll want some another day.'
For the wealthy, spending money was as casual as buying chewing gum. Robert had splurged 30,000 naira on the afternoon tea, which nearly matched the living expenses of most people, even equating to the national minimum wage for federal workers in Nigeria. Such an amount at the end of each month felt like winning the lottery or hitting the jackpot. However, Michael could spend it without batting an eye. With that, Robert left the office, leaving Michael to gracefully indulge in his afternoon tea.