Revolt

13. Code Red

“Don’t sail out farther than you can row back.” – Danish Proverb.

•••

The blanket of chilly, fresh air swathed Anjola as she stepped through the glass paneled doors and into the reception of the company. It had been a hectic, cutthroat Thursday and after closing up shop at Sigma, she had made a quite, exhilarating, spontaneous decision to head down to KC—Keye Conglomerate—instead of going home.

It was all in a bid to surprise Lekan, and return the favor of an impromptu visit, like he had done the previous week also. Although she had no reason to fear, since she knew she wasn’t crossing any line or snooping round personal boundaries—she couldn’t help but feel a little lightheaded and panic-stricken. After all, she was indeed showing up unannounced. But she had arrived anyway, and had no choice other than to follow through with it.

The reception’s interior was similar to that of a posh, aristocratic bar. Contemporary, classy scenery—oak furniture that matched the ceilings, where lighting was encased in coated timber lamp-holders. Huge mahogany desk erected up front as counter, where employees in uniform sharp, corporate attires attended to visitors.

The walls had a watercolor wallpaper, with articulate, undulated waves of varying color tints that simulated splashes of a rainbow—and the granite tiles of voluble shades that padded the floor, appeared stained by the walls. The only attribute that distinguished it from a bar, was absence of pop music and wine fountains by the counters.

Anjola ambled forward, towards the center of the counter—where one out of three receptionists, wasn’t occupied with answering enquiries. The receptionist in question, was a dark, pretty middle aged woman on a low cut, with a star-shaped parting, dressed in a white chiffon blouse and had quite glimmering accessories—golden hopped hearings, gold-tone bangles and a Quartz wristwatch. As if she wasn’t looking radiant enough, she flashed a smile at Anjola—baring a dainty set of teeth. Most counter attendants were infamous, for their usually infuriating attitudes, but Anjola knew this one before her was as pleasant as she looked.

“Good morning,” Anjola greeted, hooking her thumb around the strap of her handbag, draped on her right shoulder. “Um, I’m a friend of Lekan’s. Lekan Keye. Is there by any chance I could see him?”

“Lekan Keye?” The receptionist’s brows creased. “Mr. Keye is one of our directors here at KC. Do you have an appointment with him? I’m sorry, but you can’t see him unless you do. But I can call his office, and ask if he’d like to see you. What’s your name?”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. My name is Anjola Adeite. Just say Anjola, he’d definitely know.” She replied.

“Anjola Adeite?” The receptionist punched digits into the telephone on her desk, before lifting the receiver to her right ear. While the line dialed, she added. “Your name sounds familiar, though. Seems like I’ve heard it somewhere recently.”

“Really?” Anjola didn’t know how to respond. “Well, Anjola is sort of a common name so maybe.”

“I meant both your name and your surname,” The receptionist said, and slammed the receiver back into the cradle. “Sorry, no one from his office is picking up. I can’t direct you there, unless I’m sure it’s okay. Would you like to sit and wait for a couple of minutes, though and in the next…let’s say, ten to fifteen minutes, I’d try again?”

Anjola’s enthusiasm dipped, and she nodded anyway since she didn’t have a choice. Before she could turn around and leave however, the receptionist’s words made her freeze in her tracks.

“Yes, I knew I know you from somewhere! You were the chief bridesmaid on Tiolu’s wedding right? Lekan’s twin sister and the other child of the C.E.O.?”