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The car pulled over at her Father's house and she couldn't help but stare at the place she'd grown up in. Everything was just as she had left it. The colour splash on the wall, the flower pots beside two huge pillars, the neat compound... Obviously it would be neat as her Father was a very neat person!
She sighed mentally as she rubbed her temples with her left hand, trying to soothe the anger that was already making her boil.
"Madam we have arrived". The voice of her driver tore through her like hot blade.
" I'm not blind". She sneered not even batting an eye at him. The cars parked in the compound were a bit... Familiar. The plate number to be precise. Could be that they were important guests in the house, or her siblings were home. Either of them didn't seem like a good reason for her Father to call her from work.
Tearing her eyes from the surroundings, she turned her attention to her driver. She furrowed her brows at his height. She didn't remember re-hiring him but she did remember firing her previous driver. He had made her wait an extra 3minutes after a long day at work.
" When did you start working for me?". She asked, arranging her already arranged handbag.
" Yesterday Ma".
Ma? Who did he think she was? His grandma??
She rolled her eyes and caught his gaze in the review mirror. His brown eyes met hers and for a while, she felt disgusted.
" Did Patricia fill you in on the things I expect from you?".
"No Ma ".
That did it.
" I don't expect you to call me that. I'm your boss, not your mother". He averted his gaze, lowering his head. "Miss. Ivonne is your only option, if not, you're fired". He turned back immediately, opening his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.
" You will not speak until spoken too, whatever I discuss in the car on the phone or with someone, is purely confidential, I must not hear it outside. You will turn a blind eye to my work and my private life". She paused and he nodded, turning back to the steering wheel.
" I cam see that you're elderly. Maybe in your late 30's or 40's, whatever. Old people like to think they are the best experienced and they give out advice and all that... Bullshit! When you're with me, you will swallow all that. I don't need advice from anyone, much less... A driver". There was no possible way one could miss the tone of disgust in her last words.
" your job is simple. And that is to drive". The irony of this was that she couldn't drive. It just wasn't her thing. She was yet to find a teacher who would not be annoying, frustrating, gullible, stupid, dumb and let's not forget flirty. She even tried females and discovered that was a no-go area. They had terrible mood swings and would at one point want to raise their voices at her. Big mistake. One call to the agency and they would end up crying at her porch. Stupid!
The ones that were calm, were just too calm, gentle and bubbly for her liking. They either tried to start a conversation with her, or tried to make her cheer by telling horrible horrible jokes and making goofy faces.
Then her best friend tried to make it work by getting a 'hot' guy to teach her how to drive. He wasn't Ivonne's kind of hot, he was her best friend kind of guy. Fair spotless skin, average height, huge and she meant huge biceps, rock hard abs, a huge tattoo covering his back, down to band of his pants. She knew this because he was topless. Like every minute.
When she eventually got the police to get him off her property, her bestie got at it again. This time she got a brown skinned man. High cheek bone, brown eyes, small lips. He had the wide shoulders and chiseled torso that women don't just notice, but grab.
But not her. Not Ivonne Johnson who would rather spend 24hours in her office than listen to a man flirt with her.
He didn't flirt though. To make matters good, he had a ring on his finger. And to make matters worse, his fiancé was a total pain in the ass. She called every second asking just one thing "where are you?". It was so much that they didn't make it to 2days and he quit. Apparently she thought he was boinking some other girl.
Shaking the memories off her head, she continued " Punctuality is also needed when you work with me. If you're a minute late, you're fired. No two ways about that. You also get off days as well. Every Saturday and Sunday. If you're having health issues, I'll let my doctor see you and no it's not coming from your paycheck".
Her Father's words rang in her head "I need to see you now. We have something very important to discuss". And here she was wasting her time with a driver.
Taking out her phone, she proceeded to open the door of her car " wait here".
He gave a nod but didn't say anything. Good. Too much talking pissed her off anyways.
The sun scorched hard on her back and she winced from it. She walked quickly, her heels hitting the floor and announcing her arrival with the sound it made. Out of habit, she ran her hands down her tight black skirt that she wore with a pink white striped top. She was already regretting her clothing and would just about go mad if she didn't get from under the sun!
Not bothering to slow down or knock, she barged in, her nose catching the sweet aroma that lingered in the air and her stomach rumbled, waiting a piece of what the nose had perceived.
One of the joys of her Father's house while she was growing up, they had toe curling food that could rip an orgasm outta you. The chef was skilled and knew just the right amount of things. Her Mother didn't enter the kitchen much so Ivonne never learnt how to cook from her but from Chef Elvis. A man in his 50's by now, he had actually threatened to never make a sponge cake ever again unless she let him teach her the ways around a kitchen and looking back at it now, it was worth it.
She turned her attention to the noise coming from the dining table and she headed there. The voices all to familiar. She might as well turn back now knowing that they were people she didn't want to see besides one but her feet didn't stop.