my love, my obsession

Chapter 1:The Notebook The elevator in VI was too cold. Amara hugged her black notebook to her chest. It was old, from her SS3 days in Ibadan. On the first page, still in faded blue ink: "You can do WAEC." She was 22 now. Fresh graduate from UI. First real interview in Lagos. "Amara Adebayo?" The secretary called. She stood too fast. The notebook slipped. Papers scattered on the marble floor. And a man bent to pick it up. Black suit. Red tie. Quiet eyes. He didn't look like someone who smiled often. "You dropped this," he said. His voice was low. "Thank you, sir," she whispered. He didn't give it back immediately. He looked at the cover. At her name written in marker on the edge. "Amara," he repeated, like he already knew it. In the interview room, there were three people. He was in the middle. "Why do you want to work at Thela Publishing?" one woman asked. Amara tried to answer, but his eyes never left the notebook on his table. Her notebook. In the end, he finally spoke. "You will start on Monday. As my personal assistant." The woman beside him looked shocked. "Sir, we haven't finished -" "Monday, 8am," he said, only to Amara. "Don't be late. And Amara?" "Yes, sir?" "Don't lose your notebook again." She left Lagos Island with her heart beating like a drum. She got the job. But why did it feel like he had already known her? In his office, after she left, Deji opened the notebook to page one. He smiled for the first time that day. He had been waiting two years. Since that book fair in Ibadan where she argued with him about Chimamanda. Now she was finally here. --- Monday morning. 8:00 AM. Amara Adeyemi walked into Thela Publishing, VI, dressed in her best white shirt, with a small smile she was forcing to be brave. "I hope this goes well," she whispered. She was still flashing back to yesterday. How did she — a Yaba girl on a second-class contract — get selected by the CEO himself? It still felt like a dream. A woman walked up to her. "Hi, Amara? I'm the secretary. Let me show you to your desk." Amara followed her, clutching her old black bag. A few minutes later, the glass door opened. The CEO walked in. And her breath stopped. Deji Adeniyi. Amara's smile dropped small. Fine man. Scary man. He looked at her once. Just once. Then, he looked away, as if he didn't know her. But his hand tightened on his laptop bag. "Amara Adeyemi. My office." he said without looking back. Inside his office: "You're early. Good," he said, sitting down. He was typing something, not looking at her. "Thank you, sir." "Three manuscripts before 2 PM. Femi will explain. You sit outside my office." "Yes, sir." He finally looked up. "And Amara?" "Yes, sir?" "You talk too much in your sleep? You still do?" Amara froze. "Sorry, sir?" Deji realized he said too much. He coughed. "Nothing. You can go." Amara left confused. How would he know she talks in her sleep? Inside, Deji opened his bottom drawer. The worn black notebook was still there. Amara's desk was right outside Deji's glass office. Everybody could see her. Everybody was watching the new girl. Femi dropped three big files. "Omo, welcome to hell. CEO wants them edited before 2 PM." "Three? Before 2 PM? It's 8:15!" Amara whispered. "Normal for him. He does it to test you. Most people cry and leave by 12." Later that day Amara tried to use the printer — it jammed. She tried to make coffee for a meeting — poured salt instead of sugar. The whole marketing team was laughing quietly. 10:30 AM meeting. Deji asked, "Amara, summary of manuscript one?" Amara stood up, nervous. "Sir, it's about... love... and... a girl who..." Mrs. Bello cut her off: "We don't have time for village storytelling. If you can't summarize, go back to Ibadan." Office silent. Amara's eyes full of tears, but she didn't cry. Deji looked at Mrs. Bello coldly. "Mrs. Bello, when you joined Thela 10 years ago, you couldn't summarize either. Let her finish." He looked at Amara. "Continue. In your own words." Amara, voice shaking, summarized perfectly. The story about a girl who left home to find her dream in Lagos. Deji stared at her. That was exactly her story. 12:45 PM. She finished all three manuscripts. Femi shouted, "You did it?! No one has done it before!" Deji's glass door opened. "My office," he said. Amara entered. He was holding a bottle of water. "You didn't eat," he said, pushing it to her plus a meat pie. "Eat. Then go back to work." "Thank you, sir." "8:00 AM tomorrow. Don't be late." "I came 8:00 AM today, sir." "I know," he said quietly. "I checked the CCTV at 7:58." Amara blinked. Why was the CEO checking CCTV for her? --- Chapter 2: THE EX Tuesday. 8:00 AM sharp again. Amara came earlier today — 7:45 AM. She wanted to avoid Deji's cold stare. She sat quietly editing. 9:15 AM. The office door opened with perfume. Tola. Tall, fair, UK accent, red bottom heels. Everybody knew her — Deji's ex, influencer, daughter of a man who wanted to buy Thela. "Where is Deji?" she said, as if she owned Thela. Secretary: "He is in a meeting, ma." Tola's eyes landed on Amara outside his office. New girl. Pretty in a quiet way. "And who is this? New secretary?" Tola laughed, loud. Amara stood up. "I'm the new editorial assistant, ma." "Assistant? With that bag?" Tola looked at Amara's old black bag. "Deji, you are now hiring from Yaba market?" Some staff laughed. Amara's face burned. She held her bag tighter. It was the same bag her mama bought for her in Ibadan. Femi whispered, "Don't answer her." Before Amara could sit, Deji's glass door opened. Deji came out. He saw Tola. His face became ice. "Tola, what are you doing here?" "Baby, I came to see you —" Tola tried to hug him. Deji stepped back. He didn't touch her. "I'm in work hours. And don't call me baby in my office." Tola was embarrassed now. She turned her anger to Amara. "This small girl is why you are shouting? Deji, you left me for this?" Amara's eyes were wet. "Ma, I don't even know —" Deji cut her off. His voice was low but everybody heard. "Tola, apologize." "What?" "Apologize to my staff. Now." Office silent. Tola had never been told no by Deji. "Deji —" "My editorial assistant came at 7:45 AM. She finished three manuscripts yesterday. What have you done today except spray perfume? Apologize, or leave." Tola looked at Amara, swallowed her pride. "Sorry." She ran out, heels loud. Amara was still standing, tears in eyes. Deji looked at her. "My office." Inside, he closed the door. He gave her tissue. "You okay?" he asked, voice now soft. Only she could hear this soft voice. "Yes, sir. Thank you for... for defending me." "I wasn't defending you," he lied. "I was defending Thela. We don't insult staff here." Amara sniffed. "But my bag..." Deji looked at the old black bag. "Your bag is fine. It looks like someone who carries stories inside. Not like someone who carries only makeup." Amara laughed small through tears. First time she laughed in Thela. Deji stared at that laugh. He wanted to keep it. "Go back to work. And Amara — tomorrow, come 8:00 AM. Not 7:45. BRT is dangerous that early." How did he know she took BRT? Amara went out, confused, heart beating fast. On her desk, a small paper bag. Inside — a new laptop bag. Black, fine leather. No note. Femi whispered, "CEO bought it? CEO never buys anybody anything!" Amara looked at Deji's glass office. He was typing, pretending not to look. But he was watching her in the glass reflection. C*CHAPTER 3— BRT BOY* Wednesday. 6:10 AM. Yaba bus stop was already noisy. Danfo shouting, agberos shouting, bread sellers shouting. Amara was in line for BRT, holding her new laptop bag. She didn't know who dropped it, but she was using it. It smelled like Deji's office. Behind her — a black Range Rover. Tinted glass. It had been behind her since Fadeyi. Amara didn't notice. But her roommates did. Blessing grabbed her arm. "Amara, that car dey follow you since. No, be kidnapper?" Amara turned. The Range Rover quickly moved forward. "Maybe na Yahoo boy looking for Yaba girls," Blessing whispered. Amara laughed. "Leave am. Let's enter BRT." Inside the BRT, crowded, Amara standing, holding rail. She was reading a manuscript — Deji gave her extra work. *9:00 AM — Thela Office.* Amara rushed in — 8:00 AM sharp, but hair scattered from BRT push. Deji was already in his office. He looked up when she entered. "You entered BRT from Yaba at 6:15 AM. Why didn't you take the 6:00 AM one?" he asked, without hello. Amara froze. "Sir... how did you know?" Deji coughed. "Femi told me. Femi takes same route." Femi, passing with coffee, shouted, "I don't take BRT, sir! I take Keke!" Deji glared at Femi. Amara narrowed her eyes. "Sir, were you the car behind me? Black Range Rover?" Deji kept face cold. "I don't follow staff. I have work." "But that car —" "Amara, manuscript two. My table. Now." [Sad small] Amara dropped file on his table. Her hand was shaking — she didn't eat again. BRT money finished her allowance. Deji saw it. He opened the drawer, brought out meat pie and yoghurt — the same as yesterday. "Eat before you edit. You make mistakes when hungry." "I'm not hungry, sir." "Eat, or I query you." Amara sat on the floor of his office — she was too shy to sit on chair — and ate quickly. Deji pretended to type, but he was watching. Outside, Femi gossiped to secretary: "Omo, CEO is now feeding editorial assistant on the floor like baby. Something dey sup."[Funny] [Suspence] 12 PM. Deji called the driver. "Follow that Yaba BRT girl again tomorrow. But park far. Don't let her roommates see you. If anybody touches her on that bus, call me." Driver: "Yes, sir. Sir... why you dey follow her?" Deji looked at his drawer. Black notebook inside. "Because she doesn't remember me. And I need to make sure she remembers me again -------