All the men swooned as I walked across the executives department floor at NNN Records. The Fashion Nova's Big Ideas Coming Skirt set in sage gave me the classy yet elegant vibe. I put on my typical Kim Kardhasian's natural look make-up and put my wavy hair down.
Everyone in the meeting room stood up the moment I entered the transparent glass room. My bitch face has already shown that I am not there for fun. I moved silently to the middle seat of the edge oval table and sat down. "Let's get this done and over it fast."
The room was silent. All I could hear was the sound of the air conditioner. Five minutes had passed just like that. I cleared my throat. "Do. Not. Waste. My. Time."
The male artist named Omar, who was involved exhaled deeply before he took the courage to speak. I did not look at him. Instead, I kept looking straight with my resting bitch face as I leaned back on my chair, crossing my leg over onto the other.
"I love her, chairwoman. I want to marry her," Omar made a confession.
I chuckled as he talked about love. Suleiman passed me the contract between Omar and the company. Thankfully, I've already read through the terms and conditions last night. I smacked the contract loudly onto the white oval table.
"So what do you want to do now, Omar?" I raised my eyebrow. "You had already signed the contract and the condition was that you will not get involved in any personal love affairs until next year."
Omar's fingers were trembling. His manager was already perspiring.
"And.. Isn't the duty of the manager to handle such matters? What has the manager of the artist been doing all this while?" I started to fold my arms.
Everyone in the room had their heads down. I pursed my lips to show my disappointment.
"Fire both of them," I said in a voice as cold as ice and stood up. "They have to pay for the compensation cost."
Suleiman bowed. "Yes, ma'am."
I scanned through Omar's facial expression. He looked at me helplessly, hoping for some mercy. Before I left the room, I stopped at Omar's seat.
"Are you sure that you love her?" I asked him dryly. "Was it like, affection or love? Ask yourself again, Omar."