Chapter Three Meet With Lola 

 

Eunice's POV

I didn’t give Tyler the slightest thought that I was going to go to the company today. After all, it was our company, the one we both built from scratch. I also had the right to visit, didn’t I? 

After Tyler left for work, I walked downstairs and headed to Diana’s room, making sure I prepared her some breakfast and fed her before she’d take her medication.

“I’m going to the grocery stall,” I told her..

I slid into my car, drove out of the driveway, and headed straight to the company. The moment I arrived, I could feel that something had changed. The atmosphere at the company felt different.

Six months ago, before I left to fully take care of Tyler’s mother, Sonya and Tasha were our receptionists. But now, I was seeing new faces—new faces Tyler never mentioned to me.

Since they didn’t know me, I decided to act as if I were just a regular customer. I knew the CEO’s office was always upstairs, and Tyler would be coming downstairs soon. This was the usual practice—employees would handle the daily tasks while Tyler and I solely managed the paid partnerships and brand ambassador deals.

Sitting in the styling chair as though I were just another customer, I leaned forward and said, “I’d like a nutless braid, please.” The stylist nodded with a smile.

She began to work on my hair, and as she did, I figured it was the perfect opportunity to ask a few questions. It was common knowledge that styling hair took a long time, and during those long sessions, it was easy to start a conversation to pass the time.

With that in mind, I decided to engage my stylist.

“The last time I came here to fix my hair was six months ago. Did you just start working here? I don’t recognize you.”

She nodded and smiled, then replied, “Yes, I started working here five months ago. It’s been a good experience so far.”

From her response, I quickly deduced that Tyler had hired her after I left, yet he never mentioned anything to me. Maybe he just forgot?

“I’m sure your boss has been treating you well, right?” I asked, trying to get more information. Since she mentioned that her experience had been good, I assumed Tyler had been paying her on time and treating her well.

“Madam, the boss’s wife is very nice to us. Every time she comes here, she buys us things and makes us feel comfortable,” she replied with a smile.

Hearing this, my eyes widened in disbelief. What did she mean by “madam”? The boss’s wife?

Was I not Tyler’s wife? Was someone else claiming my position?

A flood of thoughts rushed through my mind, but I decided to stay calm. If I wanted to know more, I had to stay composed, even if what I heard might hurt me.

Still, I pressed on, deciding to play along.

“I hear Delisha is the boss’s wife?” I said, forcing a smile.

“What a beautiful soul to have someone like the boss as her husband!” I chuckled, though my heart was heavy with confusion and hurt.

“Delisha?!” The stylist blurted out, her expression suddenly changing to one of disgust. It was clear she had something against Delisha.

“That evil woman!” she exclaimed. Then, continuing, she said, “The boss fired her four months ago. Every time the boss’s wife came around, Delisha would always create a scene, threatening to tell someone about something. She’d threaten the boss, and all of that. The boss had to stand up to her and fire her. Now, no one has heard from her in the last four months. I just hope she’s learned to mind her own business now!”

I opened my eyes in shock. Come to think of it, I hadn’t heard from Delisha in the last four months either.

When I left work six months ago, she would occasionally check up on me, but since I was so busy taking care of Tyler’s mother, I always missed her calls.

When she stopped calling, I assumed it was because she had become busy with work. But now I was learning that Tyler had fired her because she had been standing up to him, threatening him? Was she planning to report him to me before he fired her?

Suddenly, the stylist shushed me, drawing me out of my thoughts.

“Shhhhhh!” She gestured for silence, quickly turning her attention to the other stylist who was attending to the other customers.

“Madam is coming! Everyone, compose yourselves! We can’t risk missing today’s gift!” the stylist cautioned, her voice urgent.

Immediately, I noticed how the other stylists straightened up, became more diligent in their work, and stopped chatting with their customers. It was clear they feared and respected her.

And if that was the case, then Tyler had definitely allowed this behavior while I had been at home, taking care of his sick mother.

I watched as the so-called “Madam” walked into the building, and every employee bowed to her as though they were greeting royalty.

Looking her over from head to toe, I noticed she had blonde hair, blue eyes, clear skin, and was dressed in a perfectly fitted white suit. She looked like the kind of woman Tyler had always described as his ideal type before we got married.

My heart raced with uncertainty. Could everything the stylist had said be true, or were they just playing a prank on me?

At this moment, she walked passed me and I detected the same scent as the one that followed Tyler home yesterday. 

I didn’t even realize when a tear slipped down my cheek. This was indeed the lady Tyler was seeing. But none of the stylists noticed my tear. Instead, they all greeted her in unison.

“Welcome, ma’am,” they said in a respectful tone.

She waved her hand nonchalantly at them, as if they were beneath her, like they were begging for money.

I stood up immediately, determined to go to Tyler’s office. But before I could take a step, the stylist called me back.

“Ma’am!” she said urgently.

“You can’t go that way! Only the boss and Madam can go!”

My heart skipped a beat at her words. Did I just hear that I couldn’t go to meet my husband in his office? In the very same building, the same company we built from the ground up?

As soon as the stylist spoke, the so-called madam turned to look at me.

When she saw me, she froze for a moment, like she recognized who I was. But then she quickly dismissed the thought and adopted a smug, superior attitude.

“Who are you looking for, ma’am?” she asked, her tone cold, as if I were a stranger in this building. Her face twisted into a dark, malicious smile.

“I want to see my husband!” I declared firmly, my voice rising with authority.

The stylist gasped, and I heard their shocked whispers.

“That’s right! Tyler Cooper is my husband, and I want to see him now! So move out of my way!” I ordered, my voice unwavering.

She scoffed at me, eyeing me up and down with disdain. Then, she leaned in closer and sneered.

“We both know Tyler is tired of you because you’re just old cargo! I mean, look at me—I'm younger and prettier than you. I’m the kind of woman every man wants. So just go home and pretend to be the wife he loves, Eunice. I’ll continue to take care of Tyler here in the office,” she said, her voice dripping with malice.