Monday, June 15 (three months later)

Dan-Musa Global Trust building.

With each footstep, the workers cleared the hallway as they followed him with greetings, notwithstanding that he didn’t spare them a glance, let alone to return their greetings. He paused when he reached the receptionist’s table. Her breath hitched as she lowered her head. It was unlike him to talk to her, and when he did, it always ended up badly.

Beads of sweat rolled down her temples as she tried to concentrate. Mahir approached her just as he glanced above her.

“Is your air conditioner not working?” He had a deep voice, the kind that would anchor your soul at a single moment in time.

She briskly bowed and shook her head.

“Mary, could you stop acting like I’m ripping your organs out and focus, please?” His temper and voice were both rising, but he still tried to maintain.

She shifted and nodded her head. “Good morning, sir. I’ve already sent your schedule for the day, and you have a…”

“That’s good. Clear all my schedule for the afternoon. I’m leaving early,” he said in a dominant way.

“But, sir, you have a meeting with your father, and…”

“Just tell him I left sick, and the VP of Marketing can represent me,” he commanded, walking away without turning around.

Mary heaved a sigh and responded to his instruction. He had a habit of cutting off people before they got to finish their sentence.

His personal guards followed him up to his office and positioned themselves by his door, just as they do every day. His PA followed him into his office.

Amused, Mahir approached his living room, where he got away from work for a few minutes. He examined the young lady sitting comfortably in his armchair, watching TV and sipping some steaming coffee.

She smiled, keeping the mug on the brown French table before her.

“Good morning, Mahir. I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, offering him a kind smile that he never returned.

“Who are you? Who is she, and who gave her access to my office?” He turned, waiting for his PA, Musa, to answer.

“Uncle Adam sent me,” she answered cheerfully.

He scoffed, not amused anymore. How could he not remember his father’s trick of sending girls to his office all the time in the name of searching for a wife?

“That was what Mary wanted to tell you before you interrupted her, sir,” Musa whispered close to him.

He stared at the girl, unable to speak for a moment.

She shifted uncomfortably – why did she even agree to this plan? She shouldn’t have come to his office, thinking he’d accept her that way.

“So, my father sent you? Are you applying for a job or…?” He was solemn when he asked her the question.

She raised her head and found that she couldn’t meet his eyes. “No, of course not. You obviously know why I’m here. He thinks that we could be a match if we give it a try. And I am willing to,” she said sincerely.

Mahir glanced back over his shoulder to look at Musa for confirmation. Musa nodded.

“You knew?” he whispered through gritted teeth. Mahir was tired of his father’s silly matchmaking. That was the fifth time if Mahir was correct.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I wanted to tell you…” Musa paused when Mahir shifted his attention back to the young lady. His brown eyes flashed with annoyance.

“What’s your name?” he asked as he stared at her quizzically.

She was beautiful and looked well-mannered – he had to admit.

“Zainab Ibrahim Maikano.” She looked up; her soft brown eyes remained glassy for a moment.

Mahir managed to smile and settled down on the sofa adjacent to her. “Look, Ms. Zainab. By Allah, you’re very beautiful.”

She smiled at the compliment.

“But, I am really not interested in this… whole arrangement. I apologize, but you’re not my type. I prefer to chase my woman, not her to show up in my office unannounced. You can see yourself out.” He got to his feet and walked over to his desk.

He had just resumed that day, and it started off in an unexpected way.

Zainab scrambled up, looking at his retreating back in disbelief. “Did you just reject me?” she dared to ask.

Mahir ignored. He powered his laptop to check what he had missed over the past three months he was absent. He rubbed the bridge of his nose when he noticed her approaching his desk.

“May you never find peace and happiness with any woman you chose to be in your life!” she cursed, making Mahir snap his head up.

He intensely stared at her, his eyes darkened. “Musa, help her out, please,” he said calmly.

Musa did as he was told while Mahir went on with his business. It wasn’t the first time a girl had said that to him, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Mahir was respected by many but loved by few.

Musa walked in shortly. “Sir, your father asked to see you in his office. Right now,” he said with a hint of urge.

Mahir heaved a sigh and got to his feet. He went toward the door, murmuring under his breath. He hadn’t even had his morning coffee, but he was already stressed out.

He sauntered into his father’s office, looking around as though he hadn’t been in the office before. He smiled – the office elegance impressed him. It was the only room better than his in the whole company.

“Mahir, what sort of inhuman act was that? Do you know what you have just caused, not only for me but for you also?” His father’s voice was so loud, so thunderous, that he couldn’t concentrate on what he said.

Mahir breathed out. He adjusted his blazer and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Good morning, abba (father). And what inhuman act have I done this time?” he said nonchalantly.

“We would’ve gotten a merger with her father’s company if you’ve at least given her a chance. Mahir, this is the sixth time you’re rejecting a girl I sent to you…”

It was the sixth time. And he thought it was actually the fifth.

Mahir settled down on the chair against his father’s desk. “Abba, please listen to me. I will bring home my partner whenever I get one or when the right time comes. But, for now – please, abba, enough with the girls coming into my office as though I am a lady-killer. Please.” Unhappy lines on his face etched deeply.

Alhaji Adam looked at him for a moment and sighed in frustration. “Mahir, you’re so stubborn and spoiled. You have said this to me, not once or twice. When is the time coming?” he asked tiredly.

“Abba, very soon. I promise, before you retire.” His grin grew wider.

“Do you even know why I want you to get married?” his father asked, and Mahir shrugged.

“Easy. You want the business to keep moving forward by building mergers with other companies. And also because I’m thirty-four,” he said directly.

“By Allah, if you were not too far from me, I would’ve knocked your head,” Alhaji Adam said jokingly.

Mahir smiled at his father.

“You see, I will retire in approximately eleven months. And I will hand over the Chief Executive Officer office to you. So don’t you think you’d get more respect when not just your business partners but also your employees know that you’re married? And marriage is highly valued and regarded as being half of one’s faith – you do know that. And I’m not getting any younger, Mahir. I want to see my grandchildren.”

Mahir scratched the back of his head as he smiled sheepishly. He also wanted to see his children. There was a special place in his heart for children. Imagine if he had his own.

“Abba, just give me half a year. I promise to bring a wife home. I won’t let you down.”

Alhaji Adam nodded. “Six months?”

Mahir nodded. “I promise,” he assured his father.

“Okay, then. Now go get ready. We have a meeting in less than two hours,” Alhaji Adam turned his attention back to his work.