Bitch cure

A shiny black shoe tapped nervously against the floor. The trouser hem was inched above the tongue of the shoe revealing black socks with grey stripes. The well pressed navy blue trouser leg hung like a slight tent over the firm calfs and lined his firm thighs now being drummed by chocolate supple gleaming manicured nails.

The hand travels past a muscular chest garbed with a white pin stripped shirt and sleek thin black tie. And rests and caresses a rich dark well shaven beard with a slight tinge of salt and pepper. Bright pink supple lips pucker in speech and reveal a blinding white smile. The chiseled countenance with an aquiline nose and brown round almond eyes shatters with laughter and the strong masculine god turns into cheeky child.

The phone had been ringing persistently for two minutes, but Kendi had not heard a word. She was fixated on the African god who had walked in the door for the week long executive interviews. It took her boss, Khamadi to walk in to the lobby and knock on her desk for her to take note of the prolonged ringing she had not been attending to. “Do you want your job or not Kendi?” Khamadi’s voice demanded. “Sorry sir it won’t happen again”, she blushed as she gazed upon the gentleman on the seat once more.

“Call in the next interviewee!” Khamadi demanded as he walked back into his office. Kendi just sighed and stared. The stare was interrupted by another phone call and she looked through the registration book to call in the next interviewee. She cleared her throat and called out a name sounding more like she was connecting the name to the face. “Kwesi?” The hunk she was feasting her eyes on lifted his head. He was next in line but she just needed to make sure. She was going to keep him in the lobby as long as she could. Then she looked at him and smiled. Her eyes zoomed in on his beaming smile, she blushed and looked down.

“Andrew you are next, please go in sir.” She said very calm. As Andrew passed her desk for the MD’s door, Kendi raised her head again over the counter to steal a glimpse of Kwesi. Her heart began to race.

Kwesi looked at her, shot a smile again and leaned across the coffee table to get a magazine. And just like that Kendi’s morning muse was disrupted. And with the next phone call, her dose of kindness faded with Kwesi’s disinterest in her, her bitchy self was back.

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