Behind The Shade Ch. 03

Sundays aren't as busy as other days of the week for me. I get to sleep as long as I want and do nothing, sometimes.

I didn't feel up to going to church this morning, but Mom hates it when I slack off on Sundays.

"You don't have to work so hard every day of the week and then decide to be lazy on a Sunday."

So, I dragged myself to the bathroom.

I picked a black peplum blouse, a knee-length cream-colored pencil skirt, and black heels, completing the whole ensemble with a black hat and a black bag. Lots of black, I know. It's my favorite color.

To be honest, I can't remember half of what was said in church. I missed Sunday school, too. I could only try to discreetly fight off yawns and avoid dozing off. Having the usher wake me up wasn't appealing, and if I know my mom... which I do, she'll be watching me.

I'm usually not like this, but it was unavoidable with how tired I was this morning. Maybe I should take Mom's advice and stay home during my off days, but who am I kidding? My job keeps me sane.

When the service ended, I waited long enough to say hi to my friends, who are also my bandmates, then left.

As soon as I got home and changed into comfortable clothes--an oversized T-shirt and lounge shorts, skipping underwear (the less clothing, the better)--I worked on making lunch before Omma and my siblings got back. I started watching K-dramas and took to calling my mom "Omma," and it just stuck.

Omma had to wait for the women's meeting, and my siblings usually stayed behind for religious classes.

I had just finished setting the table when I heard a knock.

That would be Jessica, my first sibling, but just to be sure, I asked anyway:

"Who's there?"

"Open up, it's me," Steph, my second sister, grumbled. She's the fourth child before the twins, Michael and Michelle, the babies of the family. Yeah, I've got a large family.

I opened the door and went back to get out the plates.

"E kaabo, Ma," I greeted my mom in her native language.

"Kule," she replied and went straight to her room.

"You guys should go change. Lunch is ready."

"Thanks, sis. I'm starving," Christopher, my third sibling, said.

"What did you cook?" Jessica asked.

"Rice and stew with smoked fish and eggs," which had the twins skipping to their room with grins on their faces. They both loved rice--couldn't for the life of her understand why.

"I'm gonna take a nap. I was only waiting for y'all to get back."

"Alright, I'm glad you cooked. I'm not in the mood to," Jessica said, sighing in relief.

Chris scoffed. "When are you ever in the mood to? It's not like you're good at it. I cook better than you, anyway."

I couldn't hold in the laughter. Chris is indeed a better cook.

Steph snickered, which earned her a dirty look from Jessica.

"Steph, make sure the twins shower and change. Jessy, the table is set. Just serve Omma and everyone else. I'll leave you to it then," I said, walking to my room to catch some sleep. The food would have to wait.

___

Khaleed had a week to get settled into his new house and ready for work.

He had every intention of enjoying the free time to the max. Moving states and changing jobs takes some getting used to.

He had gone from living alone and doing whatever the hell he wanted at his own pace to putting up with his father's high expectations__ again.

The old man had expected him to move back to the home, and that's when he put his foot down.

"I'm an adult, Dad. It's enough that you appointed me as the acting CEO within a such short time. You don't get to dictate where I'll live. I'm getting a house, and that's it."

He stormed out of the study and drove off in his car without any destination in mind. He was pissed and needed to clear his head.

Cassandra had called him months before he came back and pleaded with him to consider his father's request.

He refused, and nothing would have changed his mind until she disclosed to him the real reason why their dad wanted him back desperately.

The old man was sick. He had cancer and wanted him to take over the company before his death.

"Cassie, your mom should be the one taking his place. Hell, even you can," he said.

She had laughed dryly. "I'm a model, not a business mogul, and mom is having a hard time enough as it is. They didn't tell me about it, I overheard them talking one night and figured that's why he's been adamant about you coming home."

The news stunned him into silence.

"I know you left to be away from him, but he needs you now, bro. He needs all of us together... but he's too stubborn to say it. Please come home," she said, then hung up.

So, he came and took the position as the CEO at his father's company, HADI ENTERPRISES HOLDINGS- a tech company that designs and manufactures networking hardware equipment, software, and communications technology.

He knew for a fact that some people on the board disagreed with his father's decision. He couldn't care less about trying to impress them. They would come to respect him.

What he needed to do was take charge, and one thing he got from his father was his ruthless approach to work.

He called Damon, his best friend since diapers. Even after he'd left for college, they kept in touch.

"Hey, bro."

"What's up?" he replied gruffly, and by the sound of his voice, Khaleed could tell he was still in bed.

"Get out of bed, princess. I'll be at your place in five," he said, chuckling. It was a short drive to Damon's place.

"Fuck off, what do you want?" Damon grumbled, irritated at being called a princess.

"Breakfast at the usual place, and I'm paying." He knew Damon would get up at the mention of food. Damon was just grumpy from sleep.

"Alright," he griped, then hung up.

When Khaleed got to Damon's, he stood waiting in front of his apartment, wearing a T-shirt and shorts that looked like they needed to be laundered on close inspection.

"Are you wearing clothes from yesterday?" Khaleed asked, wrinkling his nose playfully.

"Yeah... so?" Damon said, looking down at himself, then glancing back at him. "The fuck you look so put together for this early? It's 10 in the morning, for fuck's sake. You didn't sleep at all?"

Khaleed laughed. "I slept. Not all of us have jobs that can be done from home. I gotta slave off at the office."

He snorted and looked Khaleed up and down. "Yeah... I see you slaving off."

"Whatever. And do you have to swear all the time?"

"Fuck you."

Their playful banter went on until they got to the restaurant.

They sat at a table facing the windows. Damon ordered rice, a portion of beans, fried plantains, beef, and stew with orange juice. He had great metabolism and didn't have to work out for hours in the gym to stay in shape. He ate large meals, and today's choice of food was moderate, in Khaleed's opinion.

Khaleed pulled down his baseball cap and avoided looking directly at the waitress, in case she recognized him. He ordered doughnuts and a cup of coffee; he avoided eating heavy for breakfast.

While waiting for their food, they talked about random things, though Khaleed seemed distracted. Damon made no comment on it.

When the waitress brought their food, they both started eating, one with more vigor than the other.

Damon had noticed how his best friend kept staring outside, so he decided to ask him about it.

"What's on your mind?" he asked between mouthfuls.

"What?" Khaleed answered distractedly.

"You've been looking across the street since we got here."

"It's nothing, just thinking about work."

"Well, you're not working now."

He nodded and stared outside again, then froze.

Noticing the change in him, Damon asked, "What?"

"That girl," Khaleed replied, pointing outside.

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion at his friend's weird behavior. "What about her?"

"We met a few weeks ago... well, more like she walked into me" he answered, still staring outside.

"So, it wasn't work after all?" Damon said dryly.

Khaleed rolled his eyes at the shit-eating grin on his face, and that's when Damon looked at the girl. His eyes widened in recognition.

"I know her" That got Khaleed's attention.

"Really?"

Damon nodded, and then Khaleed asked what exactly he knew about her.

"Oh, it's nothing, bruh," Damon said, which usually means there's something.

"There's something, obviously."

"Let's just say she's trouble, doesn't do well with men, and not worth drooling over. Not to mention crazy. So, wipe that love-stricken look off your face. We'll hit the clubs this weekend if you need to get laid; more willing chicks there."

Trouble? He figured that much from the first time they met, and Damon's comment only increased his curiosity. But doesn't do well with men? Only one way to find out.

"Come on, I'm gonna go talk to her, and maybe I'll get her number." He had watched her go into a building, and if his memory served him right, that was his stepmom's favorite makeup artist's studio. It had a cliché name-what was it again? TheStudio? Yes, that's it, he thought.

Damon laughed at his stubbornness but flagged a waiter.

"That's if she would talk to you."

Khaleed nodded absently, already on his way out after paying.