Good things come in troublesome packages

Chapter one- What happened on Sunday, part one

'Good morning ma'.
'Good morning'
'How was your weekend? I hope you had fun'
' My weekend was good, yours?'
I greet my co workers and walk as fast as my two inch heels and tight black skirt will allow me to. I hate Monday mornings, and my weekend was the same as always; quiet, filled with laughter, and the lack of all the things I want.

Once I am in my office, I shut the door and sink gratefully into my chair. Toeing off my shoes, I wiggle my toes and curse for the umpteenth time my laziness in ironing which translated into a lack of suitable, well pressed pants for work. Cue the skirt from hell.

Quietly saying a prayer to start my day, I take out my phone and press 1.
"Hey, babe. You at work yet?"
My husband's voice never fails to make my day
' Yeah. I just got in. You?"
'Just got in too. I have a class in 19 minutes but will call you once I'm through, yeah?"
'OK. No worries. Love you'
'Love you too. Bye'.
Yeah, that sounded really sappy right? Whatever, five years of marriage and still crazy about each other? That's a good thing in my book.

Still smiling slightly at the thought of my gorgeous man, I am startled when my door bursts open and a small statured goddess with curly black tresses and killer heels pokes her head in.
'Omoge! How Nah? How was your weekend. Heard you just got in and wanted to remind you of our lunch date. You didn't forget, did you?'
Hmmn, I did forget, but quickly school my face into something believable.
'Psssh, Vera, of course I didn't forget. See you at at one'
She looks at me suspiciously, but apparently decides I am on the level before nodding and closing my door.

Muttering under my breath, I pull out my work for the day and deliberately push lunch from my mind. I know what Vera wants to talk about and I am so not interested in rehashing the debacle on Sunday. It is mortifying and hurtful on so many levels.

The day speeds by, and I am fagged out by the time lunch rolls around. As much as I do not want to see Vera, I am also starving. Food trumps feelings, all the time. Our Cafeteria at Sloane's Consulting is a wonder. For a small firm, the place is as large as a dance hall in medieval times. Smooth, polished wooden floors, large windows with fluttering chiffon curtains, small tables of three seats, and my favourite, the gleaming buffet bar near the servers. I spy ice cream, and fried chicken and sigh while glumly joining the salad line. Curse you, exponential fat gaining genes.

I take my chicken salad and fruit from the server and smile in thanks. Spying Vera, I sigh inwardly and walk over with all the grace of a condemned criminal. Sliding into the chair opposite her, I say a quick prayer and tuck in.
'Someone is hungry'' , she smirks
'Says the woman with jollof rice, plantain, two fried chickens and a boiled egg in front of her' I smirk right back at her, trying hard not to drool from the amazing smell coming from her plate. Evil wench that she is, she notices, and leisurely twirls her fork in the air, the speared plantain dangling from it.
'Salome, I know you are on another crazy diet, but you can take a bite. It's so yummy.' Here she takes a bite and pretends to swoon. Despite my jealousy, I laugh and flick a green pea at her.
'Ow, don't mess up my dress'
I stick my tongue at her, remember this is a work environment and stop. The dress is formal, red wool and very tight. I settle for raising an eyebrow at her and am gratified to see her squirm.
'I have a date with Wande in Accounting.' My eyebrow goes higher and she snaps 'Not all of us are married to hunks, you know'.
Grinning wickedly, I smile and mouth I know at her.
Silence reigns while we chew. Despite her humongous meal, Vera finishes first and wipes her lips and fingers daintily on a napkin (The probability that her hot date was also having lunch at the same cafeteria didn't stop her from eating her chicken with her fingers and licking them daintily but happily).
'So, spill. What happened on Sunday that got you so riled up?"