When There is Passion

Temi

I walk up the platform to wait for my train, seeing as my usually trusty Honda Civic decided to break down earlier this morning. My black block heels click across the floor, earning a few annoyed looks from a few of the teenagers with their bulky backpacks strapped to their backs and their acne prone faces.

I push my thick black rimmed glasses further up the bridge of my nose and I pull my figure hugging skirt further down my legs to keep my quite curvaceous body hidden from the prying and lustful looks of some of the horny teenage boys and leery older men.

Finally after what must realistically be twenty minutes, the train pulls up and creaks to a stop and the intercom system buzzes over the top in an incoherent voice that speaks in a dull monotone.

I quickly rush onto the train, careful not to catch my tights on a stray piece of metal, and find a good seat where I know I won't have to later stand up or be squashed in between two fat, badly smelling individuals, who seem to forget what personal hygiene is.

I take a seat right near the end of the line, next to the the closest door and I sit down heavily with a huff. I go into my bag and pull out a book called Malcolm X- The autobiography. I plug in my headphones and listen to Megatron by Nicki Minaj.

You must be wondering who I'm so let me introduce myself. I'm Temi Adisa. I'm the third of eight children and we all live here in New York. We're all doing well and trying our best to look after our dad who is in good health. He is our everything.

When he and our mom had to split up he was with us every step of the way. From providing a roof on our heads, to clothes on our shoulders and food on the table every day, our dad was there.

When any of us had our first heartbreak, he was the shoulder to cry on, paired with blankets ice cream and sappy 90s romcoms. He spoilt us all, girls and boys alike and reminded us everyday that he loves us.

*****

After a few minutes of reading, I look up just in time to see a young man sneeze harshly on the railing just above my head. I cringe in disgust and shift out of the way of the falling water particles that float in the wake of his ejection of germs.

He looks at me embarrassedly and I roll my eyes, handing him a tissue which he accepts, muttering a meek 'thank you'. Everyone deserves some kindness in their life no matter how infectious their ass may be.

The train finally screeches to a stop and I stand, grabbing my bag and tucking my book away. I duck and weave in between the people before making my way out of the train and stepping into the crisp air.

I take in my surroundings and make a turn to the left, walking briskly along the sidewalk. In no time, I'm right in front of one of the biggest journalism companies in the whole of New York, Carter Enterprises.

The building stretches up high into the sky and the windows shine in the early morning sunlight. I take a deep breath and step through the spotless automatic glass doors. I walk up to the front desk to see a young black lady sitting at the desk.

She flashes me a bright smile. "Good morning, my name is Tiffany Boris. How can I help you?" she asks. Her voice is light but confident.

"I'm here for the secretary interview," I tell her meekly. I can feel my mouth getting dry with anticipation.

"Can I have your name?" she asks.

"Temi Adisa," I respond.

She types something into the computer and then scans it over with her eyes diligently. She looks up at me a smile still on her face. "The elevator is right at the end of this corridor to the right and you should go to the 5th floor," she informs me. I smile quickly and start to walk away.

"Good luck, Temi," she says kindly.

"Thank you, Tiffany," I respond.

I follow her instructions and surely enough, the elevator is where she said it was. I push the button and it lights up and I wait. The elevator doors open and I step inside the doors, hearing them close behind me.

I push the button for the fifth floor and the elevator starts to move. I take yet another deep breath and try to compose myself, thinking about what I'm going to say. Before long, the elevator lets out a soft ding signalling that I have reached my floor.

The doors open and I'm met with a floor that is vaguely familiar to the ground floor, with a few changes and a larger waiting area. It has a lot more chairs occupied by a few females that sit nervously, waiting for their turn for the interview.

A couple of them eye me and then go back to fidgeting or some of them continue glaring attempting to intimidate me. I try not to shrink away from their gazes.

Some of the other girls offer me encouraging smiles, which I return, and the rest stay either blank faced or glare at me to try to intimidate me.

I take a seat in between a pair of girls and rehearse what I will say in answer to all of the questions. Damnit, I've not even seen what he looks like! All I know is that his name is David Carter and he's ruthless.

I heard that he fired his last secretary for taking too many sick days off. What kind of dumb reason is that? My thoughts are cut off when a door flies open and a tall lady storms out, tears in her eyes.

Her blonde hair is tied back in a sleek bun and her blue eyes are rimmed with smudged mascara as she blinks back tears and mutters a string of curse words, lip wobbling slightly, like a child that has been scolded. She avoids eye contact with everybody, head held high as she stomps off.

The rest of us watch open mouthed. Did she just come out of an interview? My mental breakdown is disrupted when the lady at the side desk calls out, "Miss Temi Adisa!"

I stand up. "Yes, that's me," I say.

"Mr Carter will see you now," she says with a sympathetic tone.

I gulp and walk towards the door that the previous girl stormed out of. I say a quick prayer and then knock twice. "Come in," a deep voice says.

This is it. And as my dad always says, "Forward ever, backward never."

David

I swear that if one more clueless agitating female walks through that door to do nothing more than shamelessly flirt with me, I'm going to loose my shit.

I press my hands into my face, feeling more stressed than usual. My last assistant had to quit suddenly when her mother had breast cancer. I let her go and promised to pay for her mother's medical fees, but it left me in an extremely tight corner.

I had no secretary to keep me up to date with any meetings that I hadn't noted down, and these past few days have been a mess. But today, if I don't kill anyone, I'll have a new secretary by all means.

As if on cue, there is a knock on my office door. "Come in!" I command lowly.

The door clicks open and in steps a woman. Wow! The first thing I notice is her hair. It's big and proud, an array of kinky curls atop her head. Her eyes are a beautiful shade and her skin, dark like ebony and as smooth as coconut oil.