Chapter Forty-Five

By evening, Stella arranged the documents Peter would need for his board meeting, her hands moving deftly over the pages. She passed them to Magnus, her mind already shifting to the market, where she planned to gather supplies for the weekend.

As she stepped outside, the low purr of an engine drew her attention. A sleek car glided to a stop, the window rolling down to reveal Peter's strikingly handsome face. His chiselled features were framed by the soft glow of the setting sun, making it easy to see why every woman in the office seemed to flutter at his approach.

Stella smiled but didn't slow her pace. Not with so many eyes watching, curious about any potential scandal brewing between her and her boss. She could almost feel the weight of their gazes, pressing down on her and quickening her heartbeat.

'Get in,' Peter called, his tone soft. 'And before you refuse, remember I'm your boss, and you're my personal secretary.'

She turned slightly, her brow furrowing. 'Really? You want to trap me with that?' A hint of disbelief laced her voice as she resumed her stride, determined to avoid the familiar trap of his charm.

'Are you refusing your boss?' he asked, half-laughing, half in jest. He wasn't used to being rebuffed. Stella had a knack for keeping their interactions strictly professional sometimes, leaving him to wonder about her true feelings. Was she still annoyed with him? 'People say you can't be in love with your secretary. Is that really true?' he muttered, more to himself than to her. Yet, in his heart, he believed Stella was meant for him, and he resented the invisible walls she built around them.

'I no longer hold a grudge against you,' Stella muttered.

The car followed her, moving at a cautious pace. 'Don't get me wrong; I just want to talk about work,' Peter said, trying to regain control of the situation.

Stella halted, her curiosity piqued. 'What do you want to talk about? Didn't I hand everything to Magnus? I'm sure he knows what to do.'

'Get in,' he insisted again, his voice firm. She paused, weighing her options before striding across the front of his car and settling into the passenger seat.

Peter couldn't hide his surprise; he had expected her to refuse again. As he glanced at her, the late afternoon light cast a soft glow on her features, highlighting her natural beauty. Even in her simple shirt dress, devoid of makeup or accessories, she radiated a charm that made the luxury of his car seem inadequate. In that moment, it felt less like an honour for her to be there and more like a privilege for the car to host her.

'Where to?' he asked, revving the engine.

'Market. I already told you,' she replied, her tone light but firm.

Peter chuckled. 'What's wrong with asking again? I'll drop you off.'

'I was just about to call an Uber…' she began.

'No,' he interrupted. 'That might delay you. I was planning to assign you a company car since I know you won't let me gift you one.'

'Peter…'

'You can't refuse because, as my personal secretary, you need a car to run errands.' His voice brooked no argument, and she sighed, knowing she would lose this battle.

'You said you wanted to speak about work. Shoot,' she prompted, crossing her arms, though a flicker of interest danced in her eyes.

'Getting you a car was the work,' he replied, his tone playful yet serious.

Stella couldn't help but laugh lightly, a sound that warmed the space between them. 'You're serious?'

'Absolutely,' he said, a smile creeping across his lips. 'We can't keep doing this. The more you try to avoid me, the more people start to notice. But if you'd just ignore what they say and be with me, it would be better for both of us.'

'Really?' Stella raised her eyebrows, understanding the meaning behind his words.

'Yes.'

'Do you think you can drink garri on my head?' she asked, folding her arms with a wry smile. 'Do I look like a child to you? Let them gossip. Your tricks won't work on me.' She knew he'd said that to nudge her closer to accepting him. 'I have never been bothered by people's opinions about me, so this is nothing.'

Peter didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

'But why are you telling me this?' Stella asked, a glint of amusement in her eyes. She couldn't help but ask.

'Because it's time we start our relationship,' he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. 'We've done plenty of waiting; let's do more of doing.'

Stella tried to keep her expression neutral, but a soft smile broke through. 'Okay, I'll think about it,' she replied, surprising them both. Relief washed over him, her answer one he'd longed to hear.

The rest of the ride was quiet, with unsaid words hanging between them. Soon, they reached the supermarket. Stella got out, walking confidently, though her heart was racing. She didn't look back as she walked into the busy store, leaving Peter watching her, their conversation still lingering in his mind like a tune he couldn't forget.

Inside the supermarket, Stella picked up a basket, gripping its plastic handle tightly as if it could steady her busy thoughts. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, casting a sterile glow on the well-stocked shelves. Her mind wandered back to Peter; she could face anyone else without hesitation, but with him, she felt like a child caught in a whirlwind of emotions, nervous yet excited all at once.

She moved down the vegetable aisle, the crisp scent of fresh greens filling her senses. Her hand hovered over a bundle of spinach, the leaves cool and glistening softly under the store's fluorescent lights, but she hesitated. Her pulse quickened, as if the weight of Peter's gaze still lingered on her.

A woman brushed past her with a cart full of groceries, and Stella snapped back to the present. She tossed the spinach into her basket and moved on, trying to steady her breathing. The gentle sound of the store's air conditioning was supposed to be calming, but it didn't help with her growing feelings.

Next, she wandered to the fruit section. Her fingers traced the smooth skin of a mango before plucking one from the display. She examined it absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting back to Peter's offer. A car? She shook her head slightly, as if to clear the thought, and dropped the mango into her basket with a dull thud. She reached for two soursops, some oranges, a bunch of bananas, a pineapple, a few apples, and a handful of ripe guavas. The vibrant colours and fresh scents momentarily lifted her spirits as she added each fruit to her basket.

Turning the corner towards the dairy section, her steps slowed as she spotted a small child tugging at his mother's dress, begging for ice cream. The mother chuckled, gently patting his hair as she gave in, and Stella's lips curved into a soft smile. For a fleeting moment, the scene lightened her mood, evoking memories of simpler, carefree days. She wondered what it would be like to become a mother—how happy she would feel shopping with her husband and children, pushing a trolley full of their purchases together. It would be fun.

Her thoughts drifted back to Peter and how his deception had driven them apart instead of bringing them closer. Yet, despite the distance between them now, she could feel the wall between them beginning to crack—a sealed barrier slowly giving way to the invisible force pulling them closer.

As she reached for a carton of eggs, her fingers brushed the cold surface, sending a chill up her arm. The sensation snapped her back to reality. Quickly, she placed the eggs in her basket and continued down the aisle.

Her next stop was the spice aisle. The familiar aroma of dried peppers and curry leaves greeted her, filling the air with a comforting scent. Stella picked up a jar of thyme, her fingers lingering on the label. What would Peter think if he were standing beside me now? she wondered. Would he laugh and insist on paying for everything, or would he offer to carry the basket while I shopped?

Shaking her head, she placed the jar into her basket, determined to focus. With renewed purpose, she moved down the aisle, picking up the remaining items on her list: rice, red oil, groundnut oil, onions, tomatoes, beans, yam, cocoyam, potatoes, spaghetti, macaroni, and a few canned goods. The heavier items landed in the basket with a satisfying thud, mingling with the softer rustles of lighter items and the occasional clink of glass jars. Together, the sounds formed a quiet cadence of progress, each addition to the basket nudging her closer to the checkout and to the feeling of accomplishment.

As she approached the checkout line, the image of Peter's smile flashed before her eyes. The way his voice softened when he said, 'We have done lots of waiting; let's do more of doing.' Those words hung in the air, charged with meaning. No matter how hard she tried to push him away, he kept drawing closer, so close that she could almost feel his scent, even in his absence.

Just as she placed her items on the conveyor belt, her phone buzzed in her pocket. The screen lit up with Peter's name, and her heart skipped a beat. She hesitated before answering, her thoughts a chaotic mix of emotions.

'Stella?' Peter's voice flowed through the line, smooth and warm. 'Are you done with your shopping?'

She glanced at the cashier, who was busy scanning her items. 'Yes,' she replied, attempting a casual tone.

'Want me to pick you up?'

'No,' she said firmly, even though a part of her yearned for the offer. 'I can manage.'

He chuckled softly. 'You're always trying to prove something.'

'Maybe I just like to be independent.'

'Independent? Or stubborn?'

'Is there a difference?'

'Of course there is. Being independent means you can rely on yourself. Being stubborn means you refuse to accept help even when you need it.'

Just as the cashier finished bagging her items, Stella handed over her card. While she tapped her PIN, she replied, 'I don't need your help, Peter. I can handle this.'

There was a moment of silence on the other end before he replied softly, 'I just want to be there for you.'

'I understand. But you have a board meeting. Be on time,' she said, and hung up before he could say more.

The cashier smiled as she handed Stella her receipt. 'Have a lovely evening!'

Stella thanked her, then walked outside into the cool evening air. She paused, clutching her bags, and let a gentle smile spread across her face. Peter had already gone back to the company for his meeting, but she couldn't deny the warmth his offer left behind.

After hailing a cab, Stella settled into the back seat and watched the city lights blur past as they headed towards her apartment. Peter's words tugged at her thoughts, but for now, she just needed some peace in her own space.

When she arrived home, Stella set her bags on the kitchen counter and sank into her sofa, exhaustion finally catching up with her. Peter's offer of a company car lingered in her mind, but she wasn't ready to face it. Instead, she closed her eyes, allowing the calm of her apartment to wash over her. The weekend awaited.