Broken | ✓

CHAPTER SEVEN: TINGLED

Ireti

I sat and watched as the board members devoured my boss AKA Mr Stern-face, a name I had gotten accustomed to calling him because of how he loved to wear the stern look.

They came for him one after the other while the man whom I assumed was his father because of the striking resemblance watched with amusement denting his face. Mr Stern-face took the criticisms well without flinching, I wondered how he did it. If I was the one who stood there and had those criticisms hurled at me, I would have broken down.

The meeting ended by six o clock, the room slowly emptied leaving me with Mr Stern-face, his father and the other man he referred to as his brother.

"Can you excuse us young lady" Chief Oluitan said looking at me. I took one glance at Mr Stern-face, his eyes looked tired, he gave me a slight nod and I walked out.

A minute later, his brother joined me outside. Mr Stern-face and his father started talking. First in really low tones and then with voices reaching the ceilings. I could hear every word being said and each word his father said to him punctured my heart.

Why would a father say all these hurtful things to his son.

His brother was beginning to get irritated. The few hours I had just spent in the same space with the Oluitan men, I had learnt that their facial expressions were their biggest form of communication. His brother had irritation mixed with anger plastered on his forehead in tiny but visible wrinkles. He moved forward to open the door but before he could turn the doorknob the door opened exposing a very satisfied Chief Oluitan walking out while Mr Stern-face's brother followed behind yelling at him.

Mr Stern-face stood there still like a statue with eyes fixated on the gray marble tiled floor. I tiptoed in to finish ridding the room of our documents and files but my eyes couldn't stay focused on the task before them, they kept darting towards him. He was still in the same position he was in five minutes ago.

Worry found its home in the pit of my stomach as I fought with my tongue to not let the words "Are you alright" fall off its tips but the battle only lasted two minutes because the force of my tongue was stronger than my willpower.

"Sir, are you alright?" I asked.

The room was so silent that when my voice touched the air, it echoed. He looked at me with his eyes carrying a flash of pain that was quickly replaced by his stern look.

"I'm fine" he replied in a low tone, walking out.

*****************
After walking to the east and west of the hotel trying to find Mr Stern-face I finally sighted him at the hotel's bar sitting in a very secluded corner alone.

"Here I got you a glass of scotch" I said pushing the glass of scotch towards him. "I would have gotten myself a glass of scotch too but I'm not a fan of alcohol" I added holding my glass of orange juice.

"What made you think I'm a fan of alcohol? I've been sober for a while now" he replied, the last sentence catching my attention.

Sober? Did he use to be an alcoholic?