A Touch of Reality

One

KELECHI SHIFTED HER weight to relieve her right foot. She had been standing for seven precious minutes waiting for her Uber ride. When he arrived, he’d give a lengthy explanation of how the bad road connected to the avenue made him late, apologizing the whole trip. A lame excuse, she’d say. The avenue wasn’t the only entrance to the estate. Then she’d deduct from his payment, his cries and complaints forming nasty music to her ears as she made her way to her office. Lucy, her secretary would come and complete his payment. She loved playing the nice lady and would placate the driver by sympathizing with him. She believed Kelechi didn’t know, but Kelechi knew, just as she knew everything going on in the office, including what they said about her behind her back. That made her efficient and productive. Lucy’s type always served her type; it was how the world worked.

Today, however, was not that day. Kelechi had an important meeting that could launch her media company to the next level, which would totally sideline their rivals. She couldn’t wait much longer even if she wanted to.

She adjusted her gold wristwatch, part of the jewelry set Anika, her director and mentor, had gifted her on her twenty-fifth birthday. It’d also been the day Anika handed over the directorship to Kelechi, saying, ‘I’ve never worked with anyone like you all through my thirty-eight years in the industry. You’ll go far.’

Kelechi accepted the gift with a smile. Her hardness and tenacity were unmatched, which gave her an edge. Having known the old lady would retire soon, Kelechi worked extra hard to qualify for her position. Nonetheless, she’d been beside herself with excitement when Anika made it official. That was four years ago, and ever since, Kelechi always wore at least one of the pieces of jewelry, not just because she loved them, but because the watch, necklace, bracelets, and earrings represented the transition from her old position to her new title.

‘Maybe I should have accepted my neighbor’s offer to drive me.’ She recalled the exchange from a few minutes ago.

“Hey beautiful,” a man in his early thirty’s said.

The idiot disturbed her for a while, unfortunately, not enough for her to report him as a stalker. She considered ignoring him, but she had done so the night before, so she humored him. “Hi.”

 “I called you last night.” When she didn’t respond, he continued, shining a new light to the term ‘idiot’.

“Ah.” She left it at that. No matter how stupid, he seemed, at least get the hint. She had heard him the night before but didn’t answer just to discourage him.

Apparently, she’d hoped for a lot, because the idiot continued, “Need a ride?”

She did, but not from him. “No, thanks.”

“I don’t mind dropping you off.”

Kelechi turned and fixed her gaze on his, a trick that worked miracles when accompanied by the tone she used when she wanted something done immediately. “I said no, thank you.”

No need to snap or shout. The ice in her tone made his jaw drop as he probably searched for what to say or unsay. Thankfully, he did neither and turned to his Ford. “Smart choice,” she said, too low for him to hear, not that she cared if he did. The most he could do was stop talking to her or speak to her only when he absolutely had to, like her two other neighbors. Exactly as she liked it. Friendship was a huge burden.

She waved at the approaching yellow taxi. She’d waited on the sidewalk long enough. The taxi slowed, skidding to a stop about eight feet ahead.

Why couldn't he roll back and save me the stress of walking on four-inch Jimmy Choo sandals? These shoes cost me a fortune, much more than he likely makes in years.