Sandra paced back and forth in the luxurious living room, her irritation growing as Mr. Coca's phone continued to ring incessantly on the side table. The sound was like a persistent mosquito buzzing in her ear. Her patience snapped.
"Don't you have any sense to stop calling when Mr. Coca isn't answering your calls?" she muttered to no one in particular, her voice rising with frustration. Her words were directed at the unseen caller, whose persistence had pushed her to the edge. She glanced toward the bathroom door, where the sound of running water indicated that Mr. Coca was still showering.
The phone rang again, its shrill tone cutting through the silence. Sandra grabbed the phone, glaring at the screen as if the caller could feel her anger. "Mr. Coca, your phone is ringing again!" she shouted toward the bathroom.
From behind the door, Mr. Coca's calm but dismissive voice responded, "Just leave it. Let it ring. I'll check it when I'm done."
Sandra rolled her eyes. "But it's disturbing me, Mr. Coca! This is the fourth time! I think I should pick it up and tell whoever it is to call back later," she said, her annoyance evident. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the phone and answered the call, her tone sharp and unwelcoming.
"Hello, who is this? Why do you keep blowing up Mr. Coca's phone?" she demanded.
On the other end, a young man's voice responded impatiently, "Where have you put your phone, Dad? I've been calling you nonstop. We need to talk. When are you coming back to Lagos? It's about the company—"
Sandra cut him off mid-sentence. "This is not your dad! Don't you have any brains? Can't you see he isn't picking up because he's busy? Do you think the world revolves around your calls? Stop disturbing him!"
The man on the other end paused, taken aback by the tirade. "Wait a minute," he said, his voice tinged with suspicion. "This voice... I recognize it. Who am I speaking with?"
Sandra, unimpressed, snapped, "And why do you care? When your dad is free, he'll call you back. Stop wasting your time and his. Goodbye!" Without waiting for a response, she ended the call and tossed the phone back onto the table with a huff.
Unbeknownst to her, James, Mr. Coca's son, sat in his office in Lagos, staring at his phone in disbelief. "That voice," he murmured to himself. "It's familiar. Could it be…? No, it can't be. The girl I splashed water on yesterday? But she shouldn't be anywhere near my dad in Abuja. Or could she?" He shook his head, confused and unsettled.
Minutes later, Mr. Coca emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped over his shoulders. "Who was calling?" he asked, noticing the phone's silence.
Sandra, attempting to sound nonchalant, replied, "It was James. I picked up and told him to call back later."
Mr. Coca's expression darkened. "Why did you answer my phone without my permission?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation.
Sandra hesitated, then quickly defended herself. "He was calling nonstop, Mr. Coca. It was driving me crazy. I only picked up to tell him you'd call him back. I'm sorry if I overstepped."
Mr. Coca sighed heavily, his frustration evident. "That was my son. You shouldn't have picked up. I'll handle it." He grabbed the phone and dialed James back.
"Dad," James answered almost immediately, his tone sharp, "who was that rude girl who answered your phone? She has no manners at all!"
Mr. Coca pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the tension rise. "That was my assistant," he explained. "Don't mind her. I'll make sure she understands her place and learns some respect."
James chuckled humorlessly. "Assistant? Since when did you have a new assistant, Dad? And what happened to your old PA?"
"I still have my old PA," Mr. Coca replied, his tone defensive. "I just felt the need to hire additional help for personal matters. But if her behavior upset you, I'll deal with her accordingly."
"Don't bother, Dad," James said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's obvious what kind of 'assistant' she is. I know your games, and I know she's probably just another one of your sugar babies. When will you stop all this?"
Mr. Coca's jaw tightened. "Forget about that. Why were you calling me so urgently?"
James sighed, shifting back to the topic at hand. "It's about the company. We need to discuss some important matters. When are you coming back to Lagos?"
"I'll be back next week," Mr. Coca replied. "There's still some work I need to finish here."
"Fine," James said, his tone curt. "Suit yourself." He ended the call abruptly, leaving Mr. Coca staring at the phone with a mix of anger and frustration.
Back in Lagos, James leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. "I need to figure out who this 'assistant' really is," he thought. "She's rude and arrogant, but for some reason, she intrigues me. Could she be the same girl I met yesterday? If she is, this is going to be interesting."
Meanwhile, Sandra watched Mr. Coca closely, noticing the tension in his posture. She stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you still upset with me, Mr. Coca? I'm really sorry," she said softly, her tone conciliatory. She began to massage his shoulders gently, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.
Mr. Coca's expression softened, and he allowed a small smile to cross his face. "Just don't do it again," he said, pulling her closer.
As the two shared a quiet moment, Mr. Coca's wife, back in Lagos, was trying to reach him on her own phone. Frustration etched across her face as each call went unanswered. Finally, she dialed James instead.
"Yes, Mum?" James answered, his voice weary.
"Have you been able to reach your father today?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. "I've been trying to call him, but he's not answering."
"Yes, I spoke to him earlier," James replied. "He said he'll be back next week."
"Next week?" his mother repeated, her voice rising in disbelief. "He told me he'd be back this week. Why is he avoiding my calls?"
James sighed. "You know how Dad is, Mum. He's probably busy. Don't worry too much about it."
But James couldn't shake the nagging thought in his mind. Who was this new woman in his father's life, and why did she seem so familiar? One thing was certain—he was determined to find out.