IN LOVE WITH THE FRENCH BEAUTY

~**~Chapter 6~**~

~**~Chapter 6~**~

Dahveed felt trapped, incarcerated like an enraged lion with no other place to run to. He truly wanted to ask her some questions to some of the million questions that haunted him day and night. But that would make him look needy and weak, something he wasn’t. He was going to show her that he’d done better without her by his side. The first step to that determination was not acknowledging her title as his mother.

“So many years have gone by and finally I see you.” She said in that soft breathless tone that Dahveed used to love. “The same nose, the same lips, and the same arrogant way you carried yourself!” Diana was wringing her hands as if not touching him was giving her great pain. “I see your father succeeded in making you a business man. You also look like him. The only resemblance between you and your mother is the sullenness in your eyes.” She finished. she reached both of her hands up as if to tuch his face and his brain woke up from the fog that had muddled it. He snapped when she called him “Dave” his 'lovely' childhood nickname.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” Dahveed boomed. “And don’t call me by that name! Only my dad has the right to call me by that!” tears were blinding him as he ran away. But not before he heard a teary and saddened, “No! Please don’t run away.”

Questions plagued his head and pain racked his body as he sped away from his ‘home’. Why would she come after all these years? And how dare she look at him as if she was innocent? Too many questions and no one to answer him. The ultimate solution popped into his head and he liked that aspect better than the pain. He was going to hit a bar, work be damned. And drink he did.

***

Arabelle was happy. Scratch that, she was ecstatic! She’d convinced the intimidating clients to not only go with the original deal, but also calmed them down from pulling from their previous investments. She’d appealed to their emotional side, using charts and gibberish math to convince them that customers would love the outcome.

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding when the leader of the group looked at her and smiled with…respect.

“Good job Miss Arabelle!” he beamed. “Now, all we need are your boss’s signatures on the contract today itself. We’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning.” Congratulations broke out in the board room and John beamed at her. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll make sure I get the contract signed today itself!” she answered the smiling gentleman.

Nine hours later, there was no sign of Dahveed and it was office closing time. He’d given orders in the morning and ordered everyone to be done when he returned, yet he was still gone. Arabelle was panicking because she’d promised to get the contract signed, and she always kept her promises.

She called him and left at least fifty voice mails since he wasn’t picking up his phone. She was agitated because finally she’d outdone herself by landing an important deal, and her evil boss was going to ruin her momenta, it seemed. Well she refused to let him win the battle that she’d fought. She gave him another hour and when he continued to ignore her phone calls, and not showing up, she hailed a cab to go to his house. He was signing that contract whether he liked it or not.

She’d never been to the mansion in question but a person had to be blind and deaf to not know where the biggest mansion in Zamibia was situated. On the lookout of the city, the house a modern five story with thirty five bedrooms. The bedroom bits were rumors since she’d never been near the house let alone enter it and count the rooms.

As the taxi was passing through the overcrowded downtown streets, she glimpsed dark unruly hair and her heart stilled in her chest. After paying the taxi and thanking him, she crossed the street, hands on her huge hips and glared at her boss. He was so drunk she could smell the alcohol from where she stood.