Where it all began
My name is Imani Séri, an African American of Ivorian descent.
My parents immigrated to the United States when I was eight years old, and I have never been back since.
Let me tell you about the most emotional Christmas of my life.
To understand everything, I need to introduce you to Nathaniel Whitmore, my boss. I had been working for him for four years.
He was about six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a sculpted body, but without looking like one of those gym fanatics.
He was really handsome. As you know, there's always a but.
My boss really liked the order. Everything had to be placed in a specific spot, at a specific angle.
During my four years working with him, I had never seen him smile or get angry. He always kept a cold and detached expression, as if he were above everything and nothing could affect him. Well... that's what I thought until December 18.
As always, being his personal assistant, his routine had become mine. The exorbitant salary he paid me justified my sacrifices, or at least that's what I told myself every day to keep coming back.I needed the money.
My father and mother had sacrificed so that I could receive the best education. That was undoubtedly what had enabled me to get this coveted job.
Personal assistant to the business genius.
I also had a brother and sister who were still at university, which was really expensive. Fortunately, my parents covered all their other expenses.
Anyway... yes, December 18.
As always, at 7:45 a.m., I was already in the parking lot after parking my car. I put the CEO's coffee and croissant, which he eats every day at 8 a.m., in the back of my car. I had to buy them from a specific bakery, which meant I had to drive further.
When I arrived at his floor the top floor it was 7:50 a.m. I set his table with his croissant warmed to a precise temperature, i.e., one minute in the microwave, no more. And believe me, he knew when it was more than a minute and would refuse to eat it.
He drank a specific brand of water: Volvic. Apart from that, he didn't drink anything else. All the companies and subsidiaries knew this.
I prepared the silk handkerchief with which he would wipe his mouth.
When I arrived, I was given a huge encyclopedia by the former assistant, who had thrown in the towel after two months on the job.
At the time, I didn't understand her last sentence
“Good luck, you'll need it.”
Being studious in everything I do, I memorized his every habit. Of course, it was difficult at first, but after several years, I could say that I had mastered my job perfectly.
At 8 a.m. sharp, he entered his private break room. I was allowed to sit in a corner of the room. At 8:15 a.m., he was finished, as always, and could finally talk to me.
“Good morning, Miss Seri.”
“Good morning, sir,”
I replied, clearing the table. I washed his cutlery as instructed in the notebook, dried it, and put it away. He took a sip of water.
Once that was done, I dried my hands and picked up the briefcase. I listed all of the day's tasks for him, as usual.
We went from meeting to meeting. Every day, at the same time, he had an hour of communication with his fiancée.
We all knew she was a gold digger, only with him for his money, but that seemed to suit him.
Every time she called, she ended up asking him for money or an expensive gift.
The call had just ended. As always, he was now going to have dinner at his usual restaurant and order the same thing.
Always by his side, I could sit at another table and order whatever I wanted.
We only stayed for an hour before returning to the office to finish the day's remaining tasks.
As always, I went downstairs with him at 6:30 p.m. In the four years I had been working for him, I had never seen him deviate from his routine, down to the minute.
That day, at 6:30 p.m., he didn't come down with me. He remained seated in his chair, staring into the distance.
I left him and went downstairs. Once in my car, I couldn't forget the look he had given me when I came to tell him it was 6:30 p.m. and we had to leave.
“You can go, Miss Séri,” he said.
After a moment's hesitation, I went back upstairs and saw that he had already left.
So I went back downstairs and got back into my car. As I was maneuvering, I heard a noise and felt that I had hit something.
