BABY FOR MY HONEY

CHAPTER 1 SAIRAH Have you ever wondered if your life was really yours? Did you ever wonder whether your current body was swapped for another body in your sleep? Would that mean your real destiny was being enjoyed by someone else? 'Strange as it may be--but--yes, I had those thoughts lots of times.' I really wished that my life was not meant for me. That my life was somewhere out there and I hoped that one day, I could get it back, to finally attain true happiness. In fairness, not everything in my life was worth forgetting. When it was good, it was really good, but-- when it was bad, you would wish never to wake up the next morning. For most of the past six years, I wished there was a rewind button that I could click. Oh--there was a movie with the same plot. I like that movie. The leading man was gifted with a life-controller If only I had a controller in my hand, I would definitely click the rewind button. I wished to go back to the time a handsome man was kneeling in front of me with a ring in between his thumb and forefinger, asking me one question that I never expected he would ask me, after a short time we'd known each other. I wished I could go back to that time and change everything. I promised that I would modify my life and the life of that handsome gentleman for the better. I heaved a heavy sigh as I snapped back into the present time and out of my insane thoughts. I looked at the time on my wrist and it showed a little past 2 in the afternoon. Good heavens! I sat in my executive chair for 30 minutes, and it felt like seconds. There was really something wrong with me today. I had to move my butt and proceed to the meeting room for my next appointment. I swiveled my chair to stand up and leave, but a raging 20-year-old model stomping her feet towards me stopped me from moving further. “Sairah–” she pouted her red wine-colored lips. Pouting her adorable lips had been her usual expression if she was annoyed. She stood in front of my desk with her arms crossed below her chest. Judging from her appearance, either she made someone see red, or someone successfully made her hackles rise. I wondered who courageously annoyed her today? The brat called me--Sairah. Not Miss Sairah, Miss, Ma’am, or Ms. Price. For me, 'twas no big deal. I liked the employees calling me by my first name. Anyway, bosses were on a first-name basis with their subordinates in our industry. But at this very moment, I wished I had maintained a certain distance from my staff. I wished I had stressed the significance of my role as the BIG BOSS of this talent agency. “When will you learn how to knock?” I gazed at her expressionlessly and swiveled back my chair to its position a few seconds ago. I rested my back firmly on the backrest and continued to look at her blankly. My staff was used to my stoic personality--always calm and not easily affected by what was happening around me, but my icy-cold expression was effective in putting people in the right place...like now. “Um–I’m sorry,” she apologized. It was good she could still apologize, even if the words came from her nose. If I so much as smiled at her she'd begin to rant. Not today...The time has come for me to teach this nasty and immature brat a lesson or two. “When my glass door is closed, that’s a sign that I can't be disturbed,” not that I didn’t remind her of this courtesy many times over, but she was a hard-core brat. “I said, I am sorry,” she pouted her lips again, looking aggrieved, and the corners of her eyes turned red. God, I never had patience with brats, but this industry and business overflowed with the likes. “I have a meeting in a few minutes. Tell me your concerns,quickly." I calmed my nerves, this lady antagonized most colleagues, but clients loved her. She had been the preferred model of most valued clients from the first month she landed in our agency. However, her attitude changed over time, much to my disappointment. She knew her worth, and she was making everybody aware of her value. “You see–I don’t like my stage director, and he pisses me off each time we see each other. Why the hell is he in charge of my latest project?” She aired her grievance. “Because–" I stressed. She opened her mouth but before she could speak, I muttered. "Listen--Edmond is the best! You should be grateful he accepted the job even if he had to work with you.” She had to know that she was not as important as she thought she was. She was fortunate to have the best support team and she had better appreciate that. She was lucky to have projects even if her attitude was far from commendable. “I don’t like him. Sairah, please– Can I work with Lindon instead?” She lowered her tone as she made the request. “Trisha, models can’t choose who they work with. Your job is to look STERLING at any stage or photoshoot to bring the much-needed revenue to the clients.” I said it harshly to put her in her place. She was just a model, a face and body and I could have her replaced anytime if she continued to be a pain in everyone's neck. “Please, Sairah–” she appealed. Unfortunately for her, she maxed out the kindness allocated to her. Not a chance I would accommodate and give in to her unsensible request. I made up my mind, I had been super kind to her many times prior, which caused her head to bloat to this proportion. She was also very charming in front of me. I was fond of her for sometime. I thought I had found a person I could consider as a younger sister, but it was time to firm up my stand and let her know who calls the shots. “You want me to replace–you?” I gazed at her sternly. “I can easily do that.” I warmed. Her green eyes opened wide, and I saw the different emotions that crossed there in a few seconds when my unrelenting grey eyes observed her. Disbelief, panic, nervousness, I found peace to make her feel those emotions finally. Maybe if I hadn’t spoiled her prior, Trisha wouldn’t have overindulged. It was also my fault, but it was time to change all that. Trisha Pierre, a top-grade model from Latin America. A young, sexy, beautiful model, and I considered her as my younger sister. I have always supported her in the past. Some even complained and accused me that she was a favorite, which was why she was given priority and attention. But that was not the truth– clients liked Trisha. She worked well with clients, but her attitude towards co-workers was not commendable. “No, no, Sairah, please. I- I need this-j- job,” she stuttered, realizing perhaps she wasn't indispensable. “Good. Now we understand each other.” I stood up and took my phone on top of the desk. I looked again at the still sitting Trisha and asked, “Anything else? I have to go to the conference room.” Trisha stood up and walked over to stand by my side. She hooked her arm in mine and whispered, “Don’t be mad at me, Sairah. I am so so sorry.” Trisha knew what happened, and she knew I was annoyed. She knew who the boss was, but--that was not enough. She needed a lesson. “Stop being petty. No one is indispensable, and this company can survive even without us. Insensible and foolish whims do not have a place in this kind of business. Work well with everybody, and flush overindulgence into the drain. I need to go,” I said firmly. I have no time for this. “Don’t be mad with me–” She stepped forward, walking beside me, matching my steps. “Prove to me that you deserve a second chance.” I took her hand away from my arm and walked faster, leaving her behind. One pain in my neck, successfully put in her rightful place. Now, I'm heading to my next one. I opened my door and spoke with my twenty-year-old secretary. “Let’s go, Divina.” She followed me right away. “Miss–, Ms. Annie can’t attend the meeting. Something came up with Delco. She rushed there to know what happened,” she informed me. Divina insisted on calling me MISS, the same as how she called the rest of the officers. She was the opposite of Trisha, and I liked her too. “Okay, how about attorney Castro?” “He’s on his way.” I exhaled heavy air from my lungs. I wanted this contract signing done as soon as possible. I was not too fond of Jeffrey McGregor, the recently appointed president of a well-known clothing company, our client. He made my blood boil each time I saw him, but– If I wanted this multi-million contract signed, thus, I had to endure his presence. I was thinking of Annie, an officer in this company, and one of my best friends could take over later after I excused myself as soon as I signed the contract, but she wasn't available. “Accompany me, instead,” I murmured. Divina could take Annie's place, "Take care of them after I signed the contract." “Yes, miss–” Divina replied. I hate spending time under one roof with Jeffrey McGregor. He always chose to waste my time while he expressed how he wanted to get under my pants. It was not my idea of doing good business, but I couldn’t do anything but ignore him. Gosh– he could flirt when he wanted to. He was an A-grade, skillful in teasing beyond my imagination. But–he was not my type. He was successful, however, in raising the small hair in my body, making my blood boil, and getting into my nerves. Sadly, I meet men like him almost every day in this industry. Young and old, married or not. I was exhausted trying to put down blatant offers. I contemplated placing a sign on my head saying, “Not available. Not interested.” How could those men view women as easy to get? And to consider us women–an object they may use to attain sensual pleasures and then what would happen next–? Nothing. Just a night's pleasure, a night of fun. As if they were Gods sent for us to answer our utmost desires. I wasn't cut for that bull. My secretary opened the door of the conference area when we arrived. I stepped inside, and I saw him, standing by the window, looking at the range of buildings beyond the thick floor-to-ceiling glass panels. He was very attractive in his made-to-fit suit. His back form was like that of a mannequin inside an exclusive men’s store. Dignified looking with manly aesthetic features. He turned when he noticed our presence, and he smiled at me and it reached his magnetic blue eyes. Jeffrey McGregor was undeniably a devastatingly handsome man, but he was so far from the one I would gladly spend my nights with.