YANKHO

It's half-past seven at the night. A good eight hours plus since the whole tea break drama. The office is vacant but I have not moved a muscle. I'm scared. I have bitten my nails and burnt my brain cells with an overload of negative thoughts. But I can't help it. Since my run-in with the group all I could think of was what's next!

Why did I have to run into them, today of all days? I so HATE them! Urgh!!!!!

If it was any other C.E.O, I would have gone up to the executive floor and pleaded my case. I would have gotten on my knees, heck even licked their shoes squeaky shiny if it meant keeping my job. But no. This is an extraordinary situation.

I stare at the resignation letter I had started to type ten minutes ago but somehow couldn't get past the 'dear sir'. I figured I should save them the trouble of firing me. I'm sure Human Resources has already gotten the notification to terminate my contract. I waited for the e-mail or call all afternoon it almost drove me crazy. And when everybody was zapping about excited for the weekend and even clocking out early, I had just sat, waiting for the ax to fall.

But it never came. So I decided to save them the trouble only that I can't find the words to write. I love this job. The pay is great and the personnel has become like family to me. They are my second family. You see other than my dad and his wife, there is no one else for me. I don't make friends easily and that is thanks to my dad's ex-wife, my mother, but that is a story for another day. Just mentioning her name makes me feel the onslaught of an oncoming headache.

But I know better than to delay this. These kinds of situations were the ones I tried to avoid since the Concept group of companies bought the company and Derek was made C.E.O. The building is not big enough for the two of us. Ok, maybe make that six of us. This is the first time since high school that I have seen the rest of the gang.

I press the delete button and erase the email I was just about to write. Why bother? I ask myself. I will just quit and not bother with the notification. It's not like they bothered with my contract.

There is nothing much that is mine except a framed picture of myself at graduation from college. The rest belongs to the company. I log off and switch off the computer and stare sadly at the security card in my hands. Sighing heavily, I push back the chair and tightly clutch the card in my hands. Once upon a time, this had been the key to my dreams.

I did love the job. I love the job but at times our comfort zone may be our downfall. Even as i leave, my conscience is clear cause as far as I know my work is up to date. I always make sure to clear most of my work for the following week. If I'm too swamped with work, at least half of the coming week's work should be done. I hate stressing myself and I know whoever will take up my job will have a very easy week.

Pushing back my chair to the desk, I grab my handbag to head out when the sound of the ringing phone cuts through the silence. It's the phone on our manager's desk. Who would be calling at such an hour? It's past office hours.

Curiosity draws my feet closer to the manager's office. I figure that I might as well answer the call and leave a message even though I technically don't work here anymore.

I reach the desk and see the green light and know immediately that it's an internal call.

I hesitate as I stare at the light flashing. I can't move away nor can I answer it. Some sixth sense tells me not to. It's like I can feel the curtain of doom about to fall. But the reasonable side of me urges me to. or maybe it's my curiosity that gets the better of me.

'Sales and design department,' I answer without giving out my name.

DEREK

I nearly jumped with joy at the sound of her voice. I stand up, smiling like an idiot as I walk over to the window and stare out at the view of the botanic garden. I always do this at lunch not because I love the view from up here far from it. This view is nothing to write home about. I have seen far much prettier views than this. It's because of her, Yankho, that I enjoy looking out this window.

Every lunch hour, like clockwork, five minutes into the lunch break, Yankho would come out for her lunch. She always carries a home pre-packed meal and a magazine which she reads as she eats while browsing on the phone.

But today she didn't show up and that got me worried. I had called up security to see if she had left already and was told she hadn't yet clocked out. Maybe there was hope. So I decided to call her department and if all else failed I was going to call her phone. But lucky me, she did answer after all.

' Yankho,' I drawl out.

I'm nervous and for good reason. After what had happened during tea break, I do not doubt that I'm the last person she wants to hear from. What had happened earlier was an accident like she had said.

I know for a fact that she goes to painstaking lengths to avoid my presence. She has worked out her avoidance of us being in the presence of each other with tactical military precision.

' Sir Derek,' she answers curtly, making me flinch. But i don't care much, just hearing her voice widens the smile on my face and strengthens my resolve.

'Could you come up to my office for a minute?'

She hangs up without saying anything and am left to wonder if, she will come. I pace back and forth, wearing out the wall-to-wall brown carpet on the floor of my office. I keep glancing at my watch as the seconds tickle by. I'm wondering if maybe I should just go down to the sales and design department. If I have learned anything about Yankho in the few years that I have known her, is her knack for self-preservation.

My phone on the Mubanga desk vibrates with a message. I don't have to check to see who it is.

Tamara.

The bane of my existence. She's been texting me all day long. I reach for it and confirm it is her before switching it off but I change my mind. Instead, I scroll down the phone book and find mum's number and text her.

Me: Hey, I saw the pics on Instagram. Looks like you are having fun. When are you coming back?

She's out on the sea on a cruise trip with a bunch of her friends from the country club. She's been gone for almost two months now. If she is surprised at my sudden interest in knowing when she will be returning to the country, she doesn't show it.

She texts back telling me it might be another month or so.

A month. I can work with that. She's always on my case to settle down and bring home a decent girl. Hopefully, by then, I would have already won Yankho's heart.

I switch the phone off. I don't want anything disturbing my time with Yankho. Our time. Our special time.

Presumptuous, I know but I am not wasting any more time.

Anything could happen. Yankho could say no and reject me. The possibilities of that happening are high. But I have to take my chances. Though, am not taking no for an answer either. I can be pretty persistent when I want something.

I like Yankho. No. Rephrase that, I love her.

She might just have been another pretty face to me just as she was in high school had she not drawn attention to herself. Her avoidance of me had drawn my attention to her. I found her cute and was always looking forward to her escape plans.

I don't know when or how but I had grown to like and love her. My friends have no idea how I feel about her. I have kept my feelings bottled up pretty well, I was content with loving her from afar but no more.

When I saw the look of hopeless despair on her face after the tobwa incident, I felt like an idiot. I had stood by and watched as they humiliated her. I had been angry with her for letting them get to her but more so with myself.

I pace and rub at my temples as I look towards the door, she should be here by now. Why isn't she here? I'm almost having a mini heart attack. What if she bolts and I never see her again?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Goes my heart. The fear of losing her before I even make a move is terrifying. So terrifying. If Yanhko has bolted, I swear, the guys will hear it from me. Especially, Tamara.

I can't lose the future Mrs. Mwangala.