Chapter 3 : Where is George?

I toss and turn in bed uncomfortably. I'm unable to sleep due to my obsession towards George. I haven't heard from him the whole weekend as well and today I Sunday night.

I'll have a busy day tomorrow because we'll be in a meeting with the boss for the better part of the day.

Yesterday night, I managed to sleep well due to the wine I took. I kept myself busy through out the day just to avoid thinking about him. However, tonight I can't dare drink because of tomorrow...

I pick my phone from the nightstand and check the time. It's half past midnight.

No missed call..

No text message..

Nothing.

I groan in irritation as I return the phone back onto the stand.

Suddenly, an idea strikes..

Why not check his social media pages.

Obviously, his WhatsApp last seen is over a week ago and the profile pic is the same. 

I click on the Facebook icon and search his Facebook username.

The same old story. The same old pictures.

Nothing has changed.

I give up.

I decide not to stalk his Instagram handle.

I try his number for the umpteenth time but the reply is still the same.

Why is he doing this to me?

Why?

This time round, I can't think about anything else to do except to cry myself to sleep.

And that's exactly what I do.

*****

My alarm goes off with a shriek. It's a Monday morning and I'm suppose to arrive earlier to put the boardroom in place for the first meeting with Clarks holdings.

I wake up effortlessly and walk to the bathroom after punching the stop button irritably.

I free the nightgown on the way and let it fall freely on the floor and I make no effort to pick it nor throw it in the laundry basket.

I'm too tired to care.

I turn on the faucet and a moan escapes my clenched teeth as the warm water falls on my hair down to my shoulders and back.

As I lather myself, I can't help but think about George...the more I try to shove the thoughts of him probably in another woman's arms, the more they remain stagnant in my mind.

Groaning, I rinse myself and walk to the dressing table.

I look myself in the mirror as I blow-dry my hair and I furrow my brows when I see the image staring back at me.

My eyes are puffy and red with black spots below them.

However, I shift my attention from them and concentrate on drying my hair.

When I'm finally done, I dress up quickly in a grey highwaist pencil skirt and a white longsleeved blouse.

I slip into my black heels and do my makeup, trying my level best to hide the black spots.

I brush my hair and tie it into a high ponytail, recheck myself in the mirror and when I finally convince myself that I look good, I grab my handbag, my blazer and my car keys and walk out, swinging off the lights and locking the door behind me.

My lonely Audi sits lonely infront of my two bedroomed house which my dear parents left for me before relocating to the village.

Ours is a quiet neighbourhood where we rarely meet nor do we know our neighbours.

As I drive towards the office, my mind is preoccupied and it's by God's grace that I finally park safely in the company's basement parking.

Taking uneven breaths, I step out of the car and into the elevator. This time round, I decide to ignore the front reception and when the elevator stops on the fifth, I step out, straightening my skirt and walk into my office.

As usual, the boss ain't in yet therefore I concentrate in making his coffee.

Placing it on his desk in his office, I walk back to my office to out other things in place. During normal days, I'd have made myself a cup as well but today, this ain't the case. I don't just feel like taking any coffee...

It's almost thirty minutes later when Mr Wilson walks past my desk heading to his office.

He stops in his tracks when he notices that I haven't even raised my face from the computer to look at him. I didn't even hear him coming in.

“Miss Roberts.”

He acknowledges me when I feel his presence.

I stand up and take his already extended hand.

Our eyes meet and he frowns immediately.

“You've been crying, haven't you?”

“I...I...no...I mean, it's nothing sir.”

I manage to mumble.

“It's everything to me Darlene. I have to ensure my staff is comfortable every time and that...doesn't exempt you!”

He looks at me keenly.

“I'm fine sir.” 

I try to convince him.

“If you say so. Follow me to my office for updates.”

He gives me a final sweep with his eyes and walks towards his eye.

I'm tempted to slump back on my chair and cry my eyes out but I can't. I have updates to give my boss. I just hate it when someone shows me concern...it makes me so helpless knowing that they won't solve it even if I tell them.

Breathing in and out, I follow him to the office and find him hanging his coat behind his chair.

I take him through the whole day's and week's schedule, his appointments, meetings, reports and everything else he needs to know.

“If you've any problems, don't hesitate to inform me.”

He tells me as I walk out of his office.

Carlos Wilson is the best young boss one can ever ask for. He's just as kind as his retired dad Wilson Black.

He treats each of his staff with respect and handles issues amicably.

However, he's feared by all, including myself though he tries his best to be friendly towards me.

All in all, I have to keep it in my mind that he's my boss...the owner of Greenlights enterprises.

****

The day doesn't drag as expected. I try as much as possible to keep myself but. If I'm not accompanying my boss in a meeting, I'm buried in my computer, replying to mails or preparing documents and reports.

“Should I tell my boss or not?”

I keep on asking myself.

Finally I decide not to.

An idea strikes as I prepare to go home and I decide to pass by George's office and if I miss him there, I go to his house.

I'm sure he's back from his business trip and he has alot of explaining to do...