Chapter 7

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Chapter Seven

MICHAEL

I drop the picture of Cynthia on the table and tell myself to get a grip. 

I shouldn't be smiling at her picture, not after she had disgraced me in front of the students.

My main priority right now should be building my now tarnished reputation and since I've come up with what to do, I should be thinking of how to put the plan into actions.

Not smiling senselessly at a random picture.

I stand up from the table and head towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and then to the kitchen to drink the orange juice I've been craving since I woke up.

On my way to the kitchen, I encounter an unexpected surprise in the sitting room that makes me stop in my tracks. Lying on one of the sofas is a sleeping Henry, a very rare thing because that man always goes home to his family unless it is totally necessary for him to stay.

I walk towards him, realizing as I get nearer to him that he looks pretty exhausted.

Poor man. Having to look after me must be really a chore.

I decide to leave him to sleep since he looks like he needs it and continue my way to the kitchen. I can already perceive the aroma of vegetable soup from the entrance and I smile, knowing only one person can make something that smells so nice.

I step into the kitchen to see Margaret, our middle-aged housekeeper, stirring what I presume is the vegetable soup in a pot and she looks up at me with a smile.

Maggie is our oldest employee and I believe I'm right to assume that she is in her late forties or early fifties. She is a friendly woman who has unfortunately witnessed my tantrums first-hand as a child and who has despite everything, treats me like a mother would treat a son.

"Good morning, Maggie." I chirp as I head towards the fridge but she replies by staring pointedly at me. My eyes follow her gaze and I look down to realize she is staring at my chest.

My bare chest.

"Young man, what did I tell you about putting on a shirt or singlet before coming down to the kitchen?" She questions, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Don't look at me like that. I didn't know I'd meet you in the kitchen." I grumble playfully, opening the fridge.

God knows I'm not going back to my room to wear a shirt and come back again when what I'm here for is just inches away from me.

I open the juice carton and take a huge gulp from it, only to see her giving me a judgmental look.

I sigh helplessly, giving her a sulky look. "What did I do now?"

"You're drinking directly from the carton."

"But it's my own na."

"What if Kunle or Henry had also drunk from the same carton the same way you just did?" She asks and watches satisfactorily as my face twists into a grimace. 

I begin to wonder if I had really just indirectly kissed one of them.

"Next time use a cup." She adds triumphantly and I pout in response.

Although I doubt I'd be using a glass cup tomorrow.

I put the lid back on the juice and return it to the fridge before going to stand beside Maggie, drooling at the sight of the very assorted vegetable soup in the pot.

I love spending time with Maggie and having occasional banters with her, and I especially love it when she nags at me. She understands that I need a mother figure in my life and she tries her best to fit into that role, something I really appreciate her for.

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