Capítulo 3: At work
The morning sun tiptoed through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow upon the room. I stirred from my dreams, the soft caress of sunlight coaxing me into wakefulness. The room, adorned in muted colors and delicate textures, cradled me in a cocoon of tranquility. The plush bedding, a sanctuary of comfort, yielded reluctantly as I emerged into the new day. Last night's memory of bed spooning lingered in the air, an intimate echo of shared warmth that framed the beginning of this new day. As I stretched beneath the soft embrace of the duvet, a symphony of fabric and the rustle of sheets whispered tales of restful slumber. The air carried the fragrance of fresh flowers, a subtle reminder of the floral arrangements strategically placed to perfume the room. My fingers brushed against the silky pillows, with a reluctant sigh, I opened my eyes, greeted by the sight of him. As the events of the previous night continued to weave through my thoughts, the soft hum of Xavier's movements in the adjoining space harmonized with the morning serenade. A gentle knock, accompanied by the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee, announced the arrival of breakfast in bed., stood at the threshold of the room, a tray laden with delights balanced in his capable hands.
"Good morning, my love," his voice, a melodic greeting, resonated through the room.
His eyes, warm and tender, met mine as he leaned down to place a delicate kiss upon my forehead. The room, a haven of muted colors and soft textures, bore witness to our shared moments.
As he placed the breakfast on my lap, I could not help but smile. The memory of the first time we started chatting, four years ago, flooded my thoughts. The bed spooning, I had craved then seemed to manifest in the present moment, a testament to the connection we had traversed. Breakfast became a gastronomic journey; fluffy pancakes adorned with a cascade of berries, a steaming cup of coffee adorned with delicate swirls of cream, and the gentle clink of cutlery against porcelain. Each bite was a testament to his culinary prowess and an expression of love that transcended the ordinary. As the last morsel disappeared, his gaze lingered on mine, a silent pledge of shared moments and unspoken promises. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, a celebration of the intimacy that the morning held. With a lingering touch, he rose to prepare for the day, leaving me momentarily captivated by the beauty of our shared space.
My attention was drawn to a framed photograph on the small table; a portrait of a captivating lady with a radiant smile on a nearby small table. I got up and walked over to the table. Following a refreshing shower, Xavier emerged, his wet hair forming dark tendrils against his skin. Seeing me holding the framed photograph, he shared a smile filled with fondness.
"That's my sister," he explained, infusing the moment with a deeper sense of intimacy. "She lives abroad, but her spirit is always with me."
As I held the photograph, absorbing the nuances of his family, he circled his arms around my waist from the back, placing a tender kiss on my neck. He entered the dressing room, emerging moments later in his professional attire, ready for the demands of the workday. As he disappeared from view, I found myself drawn to the window. Pulling back the curtains, a panorama of the affluent Lavington-Kileleshwa estate unfolded before me. The houses stood as architectural marvels, each one a testament to the luxury woven into the fabric of this neighborhood.
The Lavington-Kileleshwa estate, a haven of opulence, sprawled beneath the canvas of the African sky. Grand mansions, adorned with intricate architectural details, lined the streets with an air of sophistication. The diversity in styles, from colonial influences to modern aesthetics, created a visual symphony that reflected the affluent tapestry of the neighborhood. Manicured lawns, vibrant with an array of meticulously tended flowers, added bursts of color to the landscape. Tall trees stood sentinel along the avenues, their branches forming canopies that dappled the sun's rays, creating a play of light and shadow on the cobblestone paths. Elegance echoed in every corner, from the wrought-iron gates guarding entrances to the upscale boutiques nestled within the estate. A sense of community thrived, evident in the occasional exchange of greetings between neighbors and the shared appreciation for the meticulous upkeep of each residence.
Barefoot and curious, I decided to explore the expansive house, my steps light against the polished floors. The stairs, a grand centerpiece, beckoned me to ascend. As I reached the landing, a vast expanse unfolded before me. The ceiling soared high above, adorned with intricate chandeliers that cast a soft glow. The living room, an epitome of chic design, welcomed me with plush furniture arranged tastefully. Sunlight filtered through elegant curtains, highlighting the subtle hues of the décor. A large mirror, strategically placed, caught my eye, reflecting an unrecognizable version of me in a loose-fitting t-shirt, my hair tousled from a night of bed spooning. Continuing my exploration, the kitchen revealed itself; a harmonious blend of functionality and aesthetics. Granite countertops gleamed, complemented by stainless steel appliances that hinted at culinary expertise. The aroma of fresh coffee lingered in the air, a testament to the morning ritual he had orchestrated.
Xavier navigated the well-manicured streets of Lavington-Kileleshwa estate, the morning sun casting a golden glow on the luxurious homes that adorned the neighborhood. As he approached the main road leading to the bustling city center, the sleek lines of his car hinted at the precision and elegance that defined both his vehicle and his professional persona. The transition from the tranquility of the estate to the urban heartbeat of Nairobi was swift. The roads widened, and the city's rhythm became palpable. He merged into the flow of vehicles, each one a participant in the daily choreography of commuting.
As he neared the heart of the city, the first signs of congestion manifested. The green traffic light ahead metamorphosed into a cautionary yellow, a signal for the impending slowdown. His calm demeanor persisted as his car joined the collective ballet of brake lights and muted engine hums.
The city's pulse, once serene, quickened with the influx of cars converging from different directions. Pedestrians, undeterred by the vehicular orchestra, navigated the spaces between vehicles with practiced ease. Street vendors seized the opportunity, weaving through the stationary cars with baskets of goods balanced skillfully. His fingers maintained a steady rhythm on the steering wheel, his focus alternating between the road ahead and the urban tableau unfolding around him. Beyond the confines of his car, conversations and snippets of music merged into the ambient soundtrack of Nairobi's morning commute. As the traffic signal transitioned to red, the symphony reached its crescendo. His car came to a halt amidst the mosaic of vehicles, each one playing its part in the city's perpetual movement. The rising sun, now higher in the sky, cast long shadows on the asphalt, adding a dynamic element to the tableau.
In the midst of the jam, Xavier remained composed. His gaze flickered between the side mirrors, capturing glimpses of the diverse faces and stories encapsulated within the neighboring vehicles. The jam, though an inevitable interruption, became a temporary pause, a moment to observe and appreciate the vibrant tapestry of Nairobi's urban life. As the traffic signal shifted once again, this time to green, the kinetic energy of the city surged forward. His car, now in sync with the ebb and flow of the morning commute, continued its journey toward the heart of Nairobi's professional landscape.
In a rush, Xavier parked the car in the reserved area for higher-ups at CrimstoneHarbor Trading Co. The bustling parking lot caught his attention, unusual for this hour. Hurrying into the elevator, he pressed the button for the floor hosting the morning finance department meeting.
Upon entering the conference room, a harsh voice echoed, "Whose car is blocking my spot?" The room fell silent as everyone's gaze turned toward him.
The stern figure demanding answers was none other than the hot-tempered boss, Malik Oduor.
Tall and imposing, he stood at the front of the room. His tailored suit exuded authority, and his intense gaze seemed to pierce through anyone who dared to meet his eyes. Despite his polished appearance, there was an underlying fierceness that made him a force to be reckoned with. Admitting that the car in question belonged to him, Xavier felt the weight of the scowl that deepened on his boss's face. The room seemed to grow colder as a torrent of reprimands filled the air, harsh words cutting through like a sharp blade.
"Thinking because you work with numbers means you can disregard rules? Rules are in place for a reason, Mwadime!" Malik Oduor's voice thundered through the room, and Xavier sensed the weight of his boss's displeasure.
With a final warning, he was commanded to remove the car immediately or face the consequences. The threat of losing the job hung in the air, leaving Xavier to navigate the challenges of the corporate world with the shadow of his hot-tempered boss looming over.
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