Chapter 8:- First Day Of Work

The weekend passed by in a blur, as if caught in a race against time. Soon it was Monday, the day Damilola was to resume work with Richard. She had spent the entire weekend reflecting on everything that had happened on Friday. Clara had come by on Saturday and advised her to take the job, but it all felt overwhelming.

After Clara left on Saturday, Damilola sat down and carefully reviewed the iPad and the amount of money she was going to be paid as Richard's Personal Assistant for just one week. The figure was mind-blowing. How had she gone from being a receptionist earning less than $400 to a PA earning $50,000 in such a short span of time? It was all too much to process.

Damilola pondered on it all and came to the conclusion that Mr. Brian hadn't recommended her, but it must have been Mr. James who had spoken highly of her to his friend. Damilola needed to be at work by 6:30 a.m., so she didn't dwell too much on her thoughts and began to prepare for work.

She woke up as early as 4:00 a.m. and went about her morning routine. By 5:30 a.m., she was ready to go to work. She arrived at the office as early as 6:25 a.m., determined to make a good impression on Richard.

The only people present were those who had worked the night shift at the hotel; Clara had yet to arrive. Damilola hurried to Richard's suite and, after going through a thorough search, proceeded to his study.

The study looked the same as the last time she had been there, but she couldn't help but be captivated by its beauty. The only difference now was a table with a landline phone and a laptop, with a chair positioned behind it, a few meters away from Richard's desk. The thought of sitting there for a week and gazing at such a beautiful space brought a smile to her face.

As she was lost in her thoughts, Richard entered the room wearing only his pyjamas. Damilola turned around to see the newcomer and found Richard staring at her in confusion. Her head was in turmoil. How could he look so breathtaking this early in the morning? She cleared her head and greeted him, "Good morning, Mr. Richard."

He didn't reply; he simply continued to stare at her with a puzzled expression. It suddenly dawned on Damilola that he was still in his pyjamas. Was she too early? But it clearly stated on the iPad that she was to be there by 6:30 a.m. Was Richard playing a joke on her? How dare he make her come to work so early? She thought he was heartless.

As she cursed him in her mind, she heard his voice for the first time, and it was a deep, British accented voice that she found mesmerising. "You are here early." he said. She was almost tempted to forgive him just because of his voice, but she quickly reminded herself that she had been tricked. In anger, she confronted him, "I was supposed to start work at 7:30 a.m. Why was I told to come in at 6:30 a.m.?"

Richard ignored her and walked up to his desk, picking up a book from the shelf. Damilola couldn't stand being ignored, so she spoke up again, "I am clearly speaking, sir. You can't ignore me like that."

Still, she received no response. Frustrated, she declared, "You know what? To hell with this job. I'm out."

As she turned to leave, Richard grabbed her roughly by the hand and said, "I am the one who sets the rules here, and you don't get to tell me what to do," he said in a voice filled with anger. Damilola was taken aback. It was the first time she had heard him speak more than three words at once, and it was terrifying. His expression was so intense that she felt a surge of fear, almost causing her to ruin her beautiful black gown by wetting it. Strangely, his expression seemed familiar, and the fear she was experiencing felt all too familiar as well.

She found herself sitting obediently, as if she were a submissive puppy. In all her time working here, she had never encountered anyone who could intimidate her to this extent. She sat quietly for an hour, until it was 7:30am, and then she started her work for the day using the to-do-list on the iPad provided to her.

As she busied herself with her work, she began receiving calls and informing Richard. One call came through from a branch in Nigeria.

"Mr. Richard, the directors of the company's branches in Nigeria are ready for the conference call. The call has already been connected, sir," she informed him.

He took her laptop and proceeded with his meeting with the Nigerian directors. He had multiple conference call meetings with branches in various countries.

Damilola checked her to-do-list and realized it was already time for lunch break. She ordered lunch for Richard and excused herself, heading straight to the reception area.

As soon as she saw Clara, she hugged her tightly and said, "I am so exhausted and fed up with that guy. He's like a devil."

"Girl! Weren't you excited to start this job? Come on, be strong. You can do it," Clara encouraged her.

Damilola was on the verge of tears. This wasn't what she had signed up for; Richard was a source of constant boredom.

"Alex, you're really making me laugh. How much are you being paid?" Clara asked.

"$50,000," Damilola replied.

"What? $50,000!" Clara exclaimed.

Damilola quickly placed her hand over Clara's mouth to prevent her from attracting attention and pulled her outside.

"I know, right? The money is a lot. That's the only reason I'm still here. But I'm getting tired of it," Damilola said.

"Wow, girl. This is $50,000 we're talking about. You can't just give up," Clara said emphatically.

"I feel like he's pushing me to the point of considering suicide," Damilola confided.

"Come on, it's only been a week. You're stronger than that."

"Yeah, I guess," Damilola replied uncertainly.

"Don't guess, just go back there and continue to be professional," Clara advised.

"Thanks, babe," Damilola said, giving Clara a hug. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Damilola returned to Richard's office and found herself so engrossed in her work that she didn't realize it was the end of the day until Clara called her. She bid Richard goodbye without waiting for a response, knowing that he likely wouldn't give her one anyway.

Damilola rushed down the stairs with her backpack to the parking lot, where Clara was waiting by the car for her. It was already 3:30pm. She dropped Clara off at her house and hurried to her dance school.

Upon arriving, she went straight to the director's office. Today was her last day at the institute.

She knocked on the door for a moment before she was asked to come in.

"Hey, Alex, come have a seat," the director said.

Damilola dragged herself to a seat close to the director and said 'thanks.'

"Why are you sweating so profusely?"

"I ran here ma."

"Oh! So, are you ready for the big day?"

"I guess I am. I'm just a little bit nervous."

"Should I postpone it?"

"Not at all, ma, it has been postponed for a while now ma, because of me. It's high time I faced it."

"Hmm, good idea. You were a good student, I am sure you will make a good dancer."

"So, today, is your last day of working for me. The dance audition will be by 4:30pm. Why don't you get me the usual?"

"Yeah, I will be on my way now ma."

"Don't be long."

"I won't," Damilola replied as she ran out.

She joined a dance school based on her love for dancing. She came across a flier of a dance school named groom dancers. She was having problems with dancing. At that time, her dancing skills had shamefully depreciated. so, she decided to check the school out.

On getting there, she went straight to the director and on getting there, she was informed about the fees, which was painstakingly high.

"Was this a school for god's?" She thought.

Dejectedly, she stood up to leave. Even if she sold herself, it won't be enough to pay the bills. Just as she got to the door, a thought came to her mind.