ADDICTION✓

xxxvii( edited)

There is a knock on the door, making me avert my attention from the show on the TV to the door. I didn't have any idea who it could be, Gladis isn't supposed to be back by now and Diego and Marcel both have keys and I knew that they were both busy in the store today, interviewing for new sales personal.

So who could it be?

I'm shocked to see Mr. McClain on the other side, we stay still, just looking at each other, taking each other in. Nobody utters a word, my head is blank. I'm frozen, looking at him.

His lips moves, "Please can I come in?"

These words he utters, makes me slam the door in his face, my heart palpitates in my chest. I rest my back on the door, closing my eyes.

What's the hell is he doing here?

I have been trying to get the thought of what would have happened that night. It has been tough, I keep having these weird dreams and I'm pretty sure it's from that night, it's surprising that I couldn't remember anything when I woke up the next morning. The dreams are blurry though. I sometimes hear sounds, they sometimes echo in my head, haunting me when I hear similar sounds.

I don't know who to tell, that's true I haven't told them what happened that night and who I spent it with. I didn't want Gladis to start assuming things or Diego and Marcel sprouting nonsense.

"Please open the door," Mr. McClain voice comes through. "I just want to talk to you," his voice sounds pleading. I move away from the door and walk to the kitchen, deciding that ignoring is best for me. I open the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water, closing it. I swiftly break off the the cap and chugged a large quantity of water

He knocks again, "Please Gbemi, I just want to talk." Hearing him plead and say my name, touches my heart in a way I don't understand, the way he pronounces my name softly like that is really messing with my heart.

That's probably because he has never called you by my first name before, my subconscious supplies.

Gbemi he is the reason that you are now working in a Cafe, I scold myself.

Walking back to the living room, sitting back down on the sofa and start the show I was watching, increasing the volume a bit  to distract my thoughts from him.

I hear someone's door open and close back, I reduce the volume of the TV, "Hey," I hear Ms. Wilson's voice, all smooth and soft, she had a nice way of talking and she knew it.

"Hello. Good afternoon,ma'am," Mr. McClain greets her, sounding so formal. So typical.

But he was different when he was pleading with you to open the door, my subconscious whispers.

Shush.

"Don't call me ma'am, silly, it makes me feel old. I'm just like 40 something. Call me Gabby," she tells him in very light voice, one thing is sure Ms. Wilson is a big flirt and also likes younger men. Facts that I have seen with my own eyes and she has also told me, when we have tea.

"Ok sure," Mr. McClain says, sounding very uncertain.

"You must be looking for Flora," she states.

"Huh? Who is Flora?"

Didn't he see my full name in my CV? Ass. He was so focused on my Nigerian name.

"The one living with Gladis. That pretty black girl," she tells him.

"Oh. Yeah I'm here for her," he doesn't deny her statement about me being pretty. Interesting.

"I knew she was having relationship problems because everytime I bring up the topic of why she moved in with Gladis she either ignores me or change the subject," she tells him.