IMANI

6

"Mr Dickson, the art exhibition is scheduled to begin by 2pm today sir," a female voice said through the intercom in his office.

Fego grunted in response, staring at the artwork in front of him. The painting brought him peace, he could not explain why but he found solace in the artist works. He had all the artist works since the artist started auctioning. He had the artist painting everywhere, he had it in his office and in his house.

He was upset that Greg had been withholding information on the artist. He was going to ask Greg for the last time today and if Greg withheld any information, he would hire a private investigator.

He wondered why an artist this good would hide their identity. He needed to know the artist personally so that he would stop going for the silly exhibitions and buy the artists work directly.

His phone rang bringing him out of his thoughts, it was his niece. He sighed and placed the phone on his ear.

"Cupcake why are you calling me again? We spoke two minutes ago," He said staring outside his office window. He liked watching the activities that happened on Lagos road, the fights were the funniest and the only entertaining thing that happened to him in the office. Being CEO, he had zero entertainment.

"I know," The child giggled.

"So why are you calling me Mena?" He said.

"I just wanted to know if you haven't forgotten that we were supposed to bake cookies today when you came back," Mena said.

"We spoke about it two minutes ago, how could I have forgotten," he chuckled.
He loved his niece, it was a pity they both had to lose their parents and it was all his fault. He had to leave with the guilt everyday.

"Okay, Bye Uncle Fego. Have fun today," she said hanging up.

He had been Menas legal guardian for five years and he loved her dearly. He blamed himself for making a five year old go through that trauma, if only he had made peace with them before they passed away. All he could do for her now was give her all the love and care in the world, make her not feel alone and sad.

He turned his wrist so he could check the time. It was already thirty minutes past one.

"When am I never late?" He grumbled to himself.
"Lagos traffic be good to me,"
He made his way down the elevator, he wondered why his father made the building this high. Most days when he was late, the elevator seemed slower than normal.

Lagos Traffic played him like chess and made him thirty minutes late to the event. He scanned the gallery for Greg but couldn't find him.
He knew the spot left for the artist by heart and walked up to the painting. A girl stood there, her back turned towards him.

For a second he was blinded by her ass.
"That's massive," he thought to himself. She wasn't small, she wasn't large either but the facilities she had were definitely larger than her body type.
He shook his head and focused his eyes on the painting.

He immediately found the solace he searched for, he understood the painting immediately. He felt it, it reminded him of his parents. The poor girl that sat alone staring into the sun was him. It was like the artist took the painting from his mind and put it on canvas.

He felt the girl's eyes burning a whole through his head. He opened his mouth to speak but she walked away. His eyes followed the swaying movement of her hips. The fact that she wore jeans and still had that much power behind her, he couldn't help but wonder if she had a body con dress on. Her walk was majestic, it could be compared to a peacock. Her long legs made her strides look longer.

He walk over to Greg, they looked cozy and close.
"Greg, Sly bastard. Man didn't tell me he had a girlfriend." He thought. He suddenly felt disgusted at himself for ogling at Greg's girlfriend.