Chapter 4

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“Ok, Sir. Have a nice day Sir.” Clint replied before the call ended.

He checked his status bar and pressed the power button before dropping the tech box on the table. He reached for the intercom, entered some digits and dialled. 

“I'm expecting a visitor from Prime Constructions by 10 o'clock today.” He informed Jane, his secretary over the phone.

“Okay, sir,” replied Jane’s feminine voice from the other end of the phone.

“When are those guys from OMAN coming?” He asked.

“11:30, sir.”

“P.M?” He queried, repeatedly hitting his his index finger on the desk.

“A.M, sir”

“I have told you severally, always be specific.”

“I'm sorry, sir,” the female voice replied.

He dropped the intercom and turned to his desktop computer. 

Clint maintained his focus on the monitor before him. His hands guided the mouse around the table, clicking it at intervals, when intercom rang again.

“Let her in,” he instructed through the phone and turned to his desktop screen again.

The presence of his visitor took his attention off the computer system. He stood in courtesy as she approached his desk, devoid of any facial expression. 

“Hello. Good morning and welcome.” He exchanged a handshake with her.

Write- Tina took his hands (Tina’s inner thought)

With his hands locked in hers as much as their eyes did, Clint was as good as lost. He felt the smoothness of her small fingers, like he did at the party — even better now that he could see her up-close under the sunlight that illuminated the room. 

“Please, sit,” he offered, pointing at the swivel seat nearest to her.

Tina's facial expressions didn't sit well with Clint. Although their last meeting wasn't very pleasant, Clint expected a level of familiarity between them, but Tina deadpanned. It's either she has forgotten or she decided to ignore him, like she did on Instagram, Clint thought, and the latter was more likely. If that was the case, he knew it was only wise to flow with the tide. 

Clint continued the meeting fighting all urge to bring up their last encounter. He wasn’t so pleased, but he continued anyway.

moments into the meeting, Clint caught Tina peering at him, as though she was trying to figure out something. “I'm Clint. We meet again,” he introduced himself for the first time in the room. A flash of smile swept through Tina's face. She slipped out her phone from her bag, unlocked it and typed something before handing it over to Clint. 

“The angry guy from the party/Instagram stalker,” he read out aloud. “Oh, you remember?” He asked, to which she nodded in affirmation.

He released a breath, “I'm not an angry bird, and I don't stalk people. I apologize. I was tipsy and you won't blame me. I never knew . . . ,” he stopped, not knowing how to put his words, “and I didn't mean to stalk you either. It's just my way of making up for that night.”

“Now you knw, pls, stop the stalking too. I don't blame you for anything,” she typed and showed him.

“Don't be mean. I'm sorry. I really am.” 

“I'm already doing that.” She showed him.

He rubbed his hand across his face. “This is not good. Let me make it up to you?”

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