Episode 2:Day One
1455 Words
Damien’s office smelled like leather, expensive cologne, and power.
The same cologne from five years ago.
Maya kept her eyes locked on the tablet in her hands, refusing to look up. If she didn’t meet his gaze, maybe he wouldn’t see it. Maybe he wouldn’t see Kamsi in the shape of her jaw, in the stubborn set of her mouth, in the eyes she couldn’t hide even when she tried.
Five years of pretending he didn’t exist. Five years of lying awake at 3 AM wondering if she’d made the right choice.
And now he was her boss.
“Schedule for today,” Damien said, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. “Go.”
Maya swallowed. Her throat felt dry.
“9:00 AM, board meeting in Conference Room A,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. “11:00 AM, call with the Singapore investors. 2:00 PM, site inspection for the Victoria Island project. 4:00 PM, you’re free, and 6:00 PM, dinner with the Adebayo family.”
Silence.
She risked a glance up.
His eyes were on her, sharp and assessing, like he was trying to solve a puzzle he couldn’t quite place. Maya felt her pulse betray her, racing the way it did that night on the balcony.
“Efficient,” he said finally. “You’ve done this before.”
“Yes, sir. Five years.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Damien’s brows lifted slightly. “Five years as a PA?”
“Yes, sir.” She lied smoothly. It wasn’t entirely a lie. She’d been juggling teaching kindergarten and freelancing as a PA for small startups. Anything to keep the bills paid and Kamsi in a good school.
His chair creaked as he leaned back. “Why Adebayo Holdings?”
Maya’s fingers tightened around the tablet. Don’t ask me that. Don’t make this harder.
“Because you pay well,” she replied before she could stop herself.
Damien stared at her for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, his lips twitched. Not quite a smile. Close enough to make her stomach flip.
“Honest. I like that.”
Maya’s chest tightened. Don’t like me. Don’t remember me.
He stood, buttoning his jacket with slow, deliberate movements. “Come with me to the board meeting. I want to see how you handle pressure.”
Maya wanted to say no. She wanted to say her stomach was turning, that her hands were shaking, that if she stayed in this room five minutes longer she’d break.
Instead, she stood. “Yes, sir.”
---
The boardroom was full of men twice her age, all of them staring when Damien walked in with her behind him.
“Ms. Okafor will be taking minutes,” he said simply, pulling out his chair at the head of the table.
Maya sat, opened her tablet, and forced herself to focus on numbers, projections, revenue. Anything but the way Damien’s presence filled the room. Anything but the way his voice made her remember things she’d spent years trying to forget.
The meeting started.
Someone was talking about market saturation in Lekki. Another person was arguing for aggressive expansion. Maya typed mechanically, her eyes scanning the room.
Halfway through, Damien turned to her.
“Ms. Okafor, what’s your take on the Lagos expansion plan?”
The room went quiet.
Maya blinked. “Sir?”
“You heard me.” His eyes were unreadable. “Don’t tell me what’s in the report. Tell me what you think.”
Her heart was pounding. This was a test. She knew it. If she gave a wrong answer, he’d know she was out of her depth. If she gave the right answer, she’d look too familiar. Too informed. Too much like someone he’d known before.
Maya swallowed and set the tablet down.
“I think it’s too aggressive,” she said quietly. “The market in Lekki is saturated. If we push there, we’ll lose money for at least two years. Better to focus on Abuja first. Less competition, higher growth potential.”
A murmur went through the board.
One of the older directors frowned. “That’s exactly what my analysis showed last week.”
Damien studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Noted.”
When the meeting ended, he was the first to leave. Maya stayed behind to pack up, her hands shaking slightly. Relief and terror warred in her chest.
“Good answer,” a voice said behind her.
She turned. Damien leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her like she was a puzzle he was determined to solve.
“Did you research me?” he asked. “That’s exactly what my father said about Lekki last month.”
“No, sir.” Maya stood, clutching her tablet to her chest like a shield. “I just… paid attention.”
“Hmm.” He stepped closer, and she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. Up close, he looked older. Sharper. The lines around his mouth were deeper, and there was something tired behind the coldness.
“You have his eyes,” Damien said quietly.
Maya froze. Her blood turned to ice.
“Who?” she managed, praying she sounded confused and not terrified.
“My father,” Damien said. “You remind me of him. Determined. Stubborn. Refuse to back down even when you’re outmatched.”
Relief made her knees weak. He meant his father. Not Kamsi. Not yet.
“I’ll see you at 11, Ms. Okafor,” he said, turning away. “Don’t be late.”
After he left, Maya exhaled shakily and leaned against the table, her hands gripping the edge until her knuckles turned white.
He didn’t know.
Not yet.
---
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Calls, emails, schedules. Maya moved on autopilot, her mind constantly drifting back to Kamsi.
Was he eating lunch? Did he remember to take his jacket? What if he got hurt and called for her and she wasn’t there?
At 12:47 PM, her phone buzzed silently in her pocket.
Kamsi: Mommy, I drew you and daddy. Miss you.
Maya stared at the message until her vision blurred.
Daddy.
Kamsi didn’t even know the word applied to Damien. To her, he’d always been “Daddy” in the drawings, a faceless stick figure with a smile. She’d never had the heart to tell him the truth.
She typed back quickly. I miss you too, baby. See you at 5.
“Ms. Okafor.”
Maya jumped. Damien stood in the doorway, holding two files.
“Singapore call in ten minutes. Be ready.”
“Yes, sir.”
As he turned to leave, he paused. “You look tired.”
Maya forced a smile. “Long night, sir.”
“Get some coffee,” he said, and walked away.
She watched him go, her chest aching.
He was still thoughtful. Still observant. Still the man who’d noticed when she was cold on that balcony and draped his jacket over her shoulders without saying a word.
It made this harder.
---
At 5:47 PM, Maya slipped out of the office five minutes early. She had to pick Kamsi up from school by 6:00. If she was late again, the headmistress would call.
She was halfway to the elevator when she heard it.
“Mommy!”
Small arms wrapped around her legs. She looked down to see Kamsi, grinning up at her with Damien’s eyes.
“Hey, baby,” she whispered, crouching down to hug him. “Did you have a good day?”
“Mhm! I made you a drawing!” Kamsi held up a crumpled paper. It was a family of three stick figures. One tall, one medium, one small.
Maya’s throat closed.
Damien stepped out of his office ten feet away.
His gaze locked on Kamsi.
Then on Maya.
Then back on Kamsi.
The color drained from his face.
Maya stood slowly, pulling Kamsi behind her.
“Mr. Adeola,” she said quietly. “I can explain.”
Damien didn’t respond. His eyes never left Kamsi’s face.
“Mommy, who’s that man?” Kamsi whispered, tugging her sleeve.
Damien’s jaw tightened. “Adeola,” he said quietly. “My name is Damien Adeola.”
Kamsi tilted his head. “Hi, Mr. Damien. I’m Kamsi.”
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding.
Damien looked at Maya, and for the first time since she’d seen him again, she saw it.
Fear.
Anger.
And something else. Something that looked dangerously like hope.
“Get in,” he said.
Maya hesitated.
“Now, Maya.”
She took Kamsi’s hand and stepped inside.
The doors closed.
And there was no going back.
- Writer
