CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

I stopped a few steps away from the table and waited for a reaction but he turned his attention back to his coffee like I simply did not exist. I gulped nervously but moved forward. I quietly slid into the opposite chair and greeted him.

There was no response, not that I expected one. He handed me a brown envelope before he set down his mug and walked away.

My shoulders sank in disappointment.

I was done for but how could I blame him though?

I accused him of something terrible without checking the facts first. He had been nothing but patient with me all the while and that was how I repaid him. I had to find out what happened the previous night.

I stared at the dish the waiter placed before me and picked at the meal. I forced myself to eat because, despite my lack of appetite, I knew I needed some food. I had been unconscious for most of the previous day and already felt the pangs of hunger when I woke up.

Besides, it might be the last time I would ever have such a luxurious meal. I would savour it while I could.

I marvelled at my stupidity as I ran my fingers over the envelope. It was most definitely my sack letter. I gathered the courage to open it and read its contents.

I have a meeting scheduled for noon at the golf course. Book a cab promptly.

Huh?

I read it again just to be sure.

He was not firing me?

Did that mean he had brushed off the whole incident?

I was supposed to feel relieved but I felt unsettled instead. I folded the piece of paper back into the envelope. One thing was obvious though, I had a lot to find out and I had to be on my best behaviour so I don’t get fired for real next time.

***

I stared at the vast green field before me in awe.

The closest I had ever been to a golf course was my television screen. Lucky for me, I had taken Lara’s advice and packed something sporty. I was dressed in a white skirt and a polo top. I also had on a pair of white sneakers. A face cap shielded me from the harsh sun rays and protected my head injury. Mr Jacobs wore a matching black tracksuit and sneakers.

We approached a middle-aged man who had just taken a swing with his gold club and made a brief introduction. When it was my turn for a handshake, his palm lingered longer than was necessary and I had to pull my hand out of his grasp.

“So, shall we proceed?” Mr Jacobs cleared his throat lightly. “Has your father arrived, Mr John Philip?"

He drew his gaze away from me, well, my chest to be precise and focused on my boss.

“Of course, please follow me.” He led us to a gazebo where an elderly man was seated.

“I’m glad to meet you, Senator Philip. I'm Daniel Jacobs from Legacy Real Estate. This is my assistant, Miss Fayola.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.” I smiled as we shook hands.

“I have been expecting you, Mr Jacobs, welcome. Have a seat.” He signalled to one of the men who stood by his side and waited for his command. “Would you like anything to drink?”

I figured the men were his bodyguards.

“Water would be fine, sir."

“We should share a bottle of wine, I insist.” The senator laughed boisterously as one of his men brought a bottle of wine forward.

Mr Jacobs politely accepted the glass of wine but when it was my turn to be served I hesitated. I didn’t drink and I did not know if it was rude to ask if the wine was non-alcoholic. I opened my mouth to speak but the words did not come out. I glanced helplessly at my boss.

“I’m sorry senator but my assistant is feeling a bit under the weather today and cannot take alcohol. Some chilled water would be better for her health.”

I gave him a grateful look but he only met my gaze for a moment before he looked away.

I guess he hadn’t forgotten about the previous night and I was not completely forgiven.

I learnt that Senator Philip was an investor in real estate. He was close to retirement and advancing in age so he left most of his business dealings to his son but he still made some of the decisions concerning property. While the three men discussed, I diligently took down notes. The contract was for the construction of a Resort Centre in Abuja, a project that would boost tourism in the country’s capital.

My neck tingled uncomfortably and it broke my concentration. I looked up to find Mr Philip ogling my body. I glared at him but his only response was a sly grin that threatened to make my breakfast come back up. I pulled the brim of my face cap lower and wished I could disappear into it.

“So Mr Phillip, what do you think?” Mr Jacobs asked suddenly.

I watched in amusement as he fumbled about for a while, probably to recall the topic of conversation.

His father glanced at him expectantly.

“The Resort centre son, we asked how you plan to organise the layout. After all, you are the Head Architect.”

The head what?

My shoulders slumped. That meant there was a good chance I would run into him sometime later.