NICHOLAS' POV
Today is a day that will be forever engraved in my memory. I couldn't imagine the train of events that had just taken place today. I was already bored in the office today before the arrival of that lady. She seems to carry an inexplicable aura. Like a goddess or something. She is just so beautiful. Her image still plays in my head and every other scene that just happened.
My motive for going down there was to yell at them to stop whatever they were doing, but a single look at her, made me have a change of mind. She hadn't even realized I was standing there, rather, she was focused and determined on breaking down the chest of my staff. I love her crazy nature.
I am a pervert for drooling over her flesh which was being exposed by her skirt that was drawn up to her thighs, exposing a great amount of flesh. I noticed her discomfort and show of embarrassment, immediately after she saw me gazing at her.
I am a well influential man, meaning I could have a great number of girls in just a blink of an eye. Yet, they wouldn't seem to quench this fire that she was silently igniting in me. I would need more than a glass of water to surge this taste of mine, this new feeling that was slowly developing.
As a man, we don't need to spill out feelings, and I bet I did a perfect show out there.
I was astonished by the way she had admired my bureau Like it was a new haven. I wasn't mad at her when she spilled the tea, just that she looked so innocent and naïve. I bet she wasn't even aware of the consequences she succeeded in putting me through. Just her cologne was enough to arouse me. "Nick, you shouldn't be thinking about that little girl, she's not just your type" it was my subconsciousness scolding me in my head. But was actually what I needed, a break from the normal, I don't want a perfect journalist, like those TV reporters who are so perverted and straightforward with their questions. I bet this lady does not even know what she is up to.
But it was too late now, she had already left my company by now. I didn't even get to know her name. Still clutching the napkin in my hand I wondered where I could find this little gem that found me today. And I was worried too about the hot coffee that poured on her. I am a beast, for not calling up a nurse to check on her. What if she had serious injuries now? And she would be in the streets of Douala, probably suffering because of an accident. An accident that occurred in my office. That wouldn't be a good reputation for my name or my enterprise. I really need to do something about this. But how do I start? That I couldn't tell.
Sighing, and arranging my documents that she had poured coffee on, I discovered, a card. Not any card but like an Identification card. On the right side of the card was the face of a lady I couldn't get enough of for one day. Looking at her name, it was boldly written "Megan Arrey", A girl from the Southwest region, it explains a lot about her agile and talkative nature. Hmm, I have had to hear about the bayangian, their good, and bad sides too. I fear that tribe a lot especially after hearing the myths about the Manyu people; it was known that when their people always die, their ghost will come out and start roaming about the entire place. I can remember very well in 2013 when I went on a business trip to Yaounde, and a colleague who had joined in later that day said in a gossip tone that a ghost had been spotted living in town for fifteen years now.
I was frightened hearing that, but as a rich man, and of high-status quo, I feigned that fear masking in a face of bravery. The least displaced sound would make me jump from the sixth floor of this building _that was how terrified I was, but I dare not voice it, and I couldn't tell this man to die down the topic as the rest of the board directors were picking interest already.
"Mr. Kenneth Ndze, what do you mean by that?" a stocky man sitting at the left-hand side of the board table asked eyeing him wearily.
"How verified is this information?" another man thundered, fright-filled his eyes.
"Wait till I tell you the end". Kenneth fired at them, pricking their interests.
"Fine continue" another man let out sighing.
"So, as I was saying, the woman had come to establish in Yaounde (from nowhere), since she didn't give out her personal details to her neighbors. She was a buy-am-sell-am, trading with many petty traders till a woman who had known her from Mamfe back in the nineties, had seen her and raised an alarm. Immediately the ghost _whose name was Manyi_ eluded the people pretending to go back home. Till date, nobody has heard from the woman again, and her house is still there in Mvan, a quarter in Yaounde". He concluded shaking his head.
"Truly, strange things are happening in this part of the world every day". The stocky man again said.
"Please, let us focus on our meeting…" the leader had cut in bringing us back to our discussion for that day.
This was crazy for me to wander my brain towards that area just by looking at this ID. I shouldn't be doing this, and as I said, it is all a myth.
The lady's telephone number and home address were on the ID too. Then lastly her occupation and the Newspaper's Name was fairly written.
Seeing this, an idea automatically sweeps into my mind and I smile mischievously. Why don't I have some fun while this lasts? At least, it would not hurt a soul.