It's Me Vs You

Chapter Eight

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No one ever became a success without taking chances... One must be able to recognize the moment and seize it without delay.
                            – Estée Lauder.

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Right now, I'm dressed in my best tailored ankara outfit to meet my destiny helper. I just realized I have met someone who may help me climb my stairs to success. This certain person has a name that starts with the first letter in the English alphabet.

"You want to see Mr Ibe?" The sassy receptionist asks.

"Yes!"

"You?" She exclaims, her brows up.

"Yes na. Are you deaf?" I snap.

"Do you have an appointment with him?" she asks, her lips twitching with anger.

"No! I don't have his number or his secretary's number. But he signed his business card and said I should show you when I'm ready to see him"

"I'm sorry! Mr Ibe is busy. Next time...Before you come here, make an appointment. Mr Ibe doesn't just see anybody. You must be worth his time before he sees you. Thank you. Please leave"

"What do you mean by worth is time? Am I not worth is time?"

"Ask yourself!" she eyes me and chortles.

"What's wrong with you?" I sneer.

"Don't raise your voice at me. You are not in a market"

I gasp and eye her. Who does she think she is? Ordinary receptionist is claiming boss of the company.

"Take a look at this signature," I place the card on her desk. "Isn't this Aaron's signature?"

"Aaron? You mean, Mr Ibe?" she exclaims and narrows her eyes at me. "Who are you? Do you know who he is? He is not your mate".

"Aaron is his name na," I say with a shrug.

"You don't have the right to call him that. Show some respect. Mr Ibe is a great man. He has accomplished great things that you can't even relate to. Obviously, I can see you are not of his social class. Therefore, I am sure Mr Ibe has no business with you. Please leave or I will call the security. Do you think forging his signature will give you access to his wealth? Gold digger". She sneers in disgust and swings her hands above her head to do the typical tufiakwa.

I take my time to scan my dress. How can she judge my social class? A rich person can wear a simple dress. Is it forbidden? I grit my teeth. Actually, my ankara outfit is too plain. I didn't have special designs on it. It's just a long sleeve gown that stops below my knees. I stand still and control my anger from erupting as I take short gasps of air. A woman walks in and she averts her attention to her. The sassy queen is surprisingly polite as she attends to the new guest. Her sweet smile gets on my nerves and I sigh. The woman is rich that I can tell. She has this strong scent of money. From head to toe, everything she was dolled in spelt big load of cash. It shines so bright that I have to take steps away from her. The main reason is that her perfume is too strong for me. I'm uncomfortable with that scent. When the woman leaves, I frown and ask, "Because I no get money abi? That's why you are using me to catch cruise?"

"Can you please leave my office? You stink," she mumbles and scrunch her nose.

"I....what?" I gasp. "Are you mad?"

"You look like the mad one here?" she hisses. I don't understand. I know my afro hair are charming when I comb them well. I had sewn a nice gown so I can look presentable. A long sleeve gown with its material gathered at my waistline. Is it because I'm not wearing the most expensive jewelries and shoes? This girl is crazy. In case she doesn't know. My gown is priceless because the designer and tailor is priceless. Who is this designer? Me.