THE ALGORITHM

2.

The boss had an issue with dirt. He didn't care for smudges and wasn't a big fan of stains and clutter. The staff who worked inside the mansion called him a true germaphobe. The man managed to inspect every nook and cranny of the place. The tables, windows, and floors were wiped to check for grime. Beds were made to perfection, and the couches were shampooed and vacuumed. If any errors were found, the boss would likely lecture the person in charge of the area. Sometimes, he sent them home, or even worse...fired them. His motives depended on his mood, of course.

The man leaned against the glass table and squinted his eyes at the smeary residue that was left. He eyed his staff, who were lined up and waiting for his instructions.

"Who cleaned this area?"

The room was silent for a moment until one of the cleaners spoke up.

"It was Matt, sir."

"Matt." The man repeated the name as his eyes scanned the housekeepers. He looked for the short, thick-haired man. Unfortunately, he wasn't present.

"Where is he?"

"Mr. Lawson, sir...Matt left early due to a stomachache." The same housekeeper replied. She was a curvy blonde who decided to become the spokesperson for the group. The staff was a little intimidated by the man. He was a tall, muscular man with a stiff personality. He didn't joke around, so they didn't try to joke with him.

"Hm..." He hummed with his focus on the smeary table. "Who gave him permission to leave?"

"Victoria."

Victoria.

Mr. Lawson scoffed before taking a few steps away from the table. He glanced over his shoulder and rasped, "Clean this table. I don't want to see any smears. I want to be able to see my reflection."

After his morning inspection, he visited his office to review documents. He awakened his iMac, viewed the fine print, and scrolled through some rules. Most of the paperwork involved obtaining his permission to implement new restrictions, approving a new budget for specific teams, and reviewing contractor agreements.

The process was time-consuming, but he didn't mind. Owning a business was a dream for him. He spent years building a plan and seeking others for their opinion. After numerous failures, he finally achieved success and created a thriving technology company.

The sound of knocking at his door did catch his attention. He didn't get to tell the person to come in since they welcomed themselves into his office. His eyes fell on the 5'0 woman who wore tall stiletto peep-toe pumps. He noticed her pedicured feet—she had French tips, which were his favorite. Her shapely figure was enwrapped in a black dress. She carried a Chanel purse. In addition, her neck and fingers were draped in diamonds.

"Hi, baby." She greeted her warmly while nearing his side. As soon as she was close, she leaned over and kissed him right on the lips. Her sweet fragrance engulfed his nostrils.

He eyed her with lust. She enticed him. His mouth parted before asking, "What are you still doing here, Victoria?"

"I'm leaving." Air flew from her nostrils. Victoria set her Chanel bag on the table. "I've been here all day trying to settle the trademark situation."

"What are they saying?" He sighed after questioning her.

Victoria shook her head. "They don't want to give up the name. I tried to persuade them to give up their rights, but they're not coming off it." She touched his right bicep and said, "You know what, Bilal? I think you should just get a lawyer. Get Timothy over here to see if he can settle this."

Bilal glanced at his woman. Victoria was brilliant and gorgeous—his type. Her love and devotion to him were among the reasons why he decided to propose to her. She always knew what to say and how to give him good advice.