CHAPTER ONE
ROXANNE'S POV
"Happy 18th birthday to you, Roxanne," the orphanage overseer wished me, removing her spectacles to take a better look at me. She was putting on an expensive black turtleneck polo which accentuated her middle-aged look and made her look like a mother figure that she certainly wasn't.
"Don't you think this dress too revealing?" She frowned at my tight calf-length gown that revealed all my body curvatures.
"I'm not sure ma," I bowed slightly with a silent prayer on my lips, wishing her eagle eyes away from me.
Within a short while, my prayer was answered as she let her peering eyes fall on the check she had brought out to scribble on
"Take this as you go into the world to live an independent life," she forced a smile as she handed the check to me
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FOUR YEARS LATER
I sat in the reception room, waiting patiently while the receptionist whose eyebrows were furrowed in a deep frown, typed away on her laptop. The rhythmic sound of keys clacking filled the otherwise quiet space, making me cringe with a terrible headache. The receptionist was an angry-looking beautiful lady whose make-up was as heavy as a dumbbell. Her black hair was held stiffly by a pink ribbon, making her look sterner than necessary.
I shrank at her facial expression and shifted my attention to the beautiful waiting room.The spacious room was adorned beautifully with gold chandeliers and metal chairs that were as smooth as they were bloody rich.
"How monstrously rich!" I exclaimed in my brain, shuddering a bit, at the grandness of the room
"Could I even stand a chance, considering my look?" The question sent pangs of shame swimming into my intestine.
Without being told, I knew that I was a heavy contrast to the beautiful room, as my faded red polo and my long gown gave me out as a poverty-stricken fellow, who had never tasted a comfortable life before.
This poverty-stricken life stemmed from my unemployed state for I had left the orphanage four years back but still hadn't landed on any steady job.
"You there! Come with your documents and make sure they are arranged in their proper order," the angry bird receptionist retorted, pointing in my direction and scowling as I moved towards the elevated desk with my file.
She snatched the file from me and started flipping it through. "Where's your birth certificate?" She asked, looking down at me like I was a dirty rug
I shuddered at the disgusted look she casted at me and then replied as politely as ever "I'm an orphan, I only have the certificate of orphan hood given to me by the orphanage I grew up in," I said softly, struggling to stop the nervous shiver that was shooting out of my spine.
She eyed me and flanged the file away, thereby scattering the papers to all corners of the office.
"You're an orphan and you want to be the secretary of this great company?? No you can't! Use the door to the typist section and make appropriate corrections to your CV and your application letter," she said, turning back to her computer and muttering some inaudible.
I was utterly confused as to what I was to correct in my document, as I had made sure everything was at the right place in my work.
"Pardon me, ma'am," I drew her attention to myself, "please what necessary corrections do I need to make in my CV and application letter" I treaded carefully, knowing fully well that any misstep might lead to a bulldozer disaster.
Her reply began with a condescending look and then an eyeful of eyeing and a click of the tongue "You'll change the intended position to that of a cleaner, not just anyone is fit to be a secretary and certainly not some rejected baby" she snarled at me, before calling on to the next aspirant.
I was bewildered and wasn't getting the picture the furious chick was painting. The words "rejected babies" that spilled out of her rose-pink lips like some mucus, churned my stomach into a bucket full of pain and embarrassment.
"What was she saying?" My breath became so raspy that it took the power of God to stop my clenched fist from falling into action.
If I was embarrassed before, it was certainly a joke as the next words that flew out of her mouth were scorpion poison themselves. "You bloody bastard, why are you still gawking at me? You better fling your smelly shitty self out of this room and into the gutter you were found. We don't have room for gutter children here. The only available position for you here is as a cleaner where you'll at the least make something shine. Since you obviously can't shine". Her sharp tongue cut through my chest slicing what little self-esteem I had into shreds.
I bowed my head in shame and gently bent to pick up the sprawled papers on the floor. She left me no choice, but to accept my fate.
I had already begun picking when someone helped me complete the action.
"Thanks, you're very kind," I appreciated, blinking back tears of embarrassment and shame that were very much trying to cloud my vision.
In reply, she gave me the sweetest smile ever and led me quietly to the typing room. She quickly set to work in the typing room, making little conversations with the lady on the computer, prompting the lady to begin work on my case.
When she had finished giving the order, she moved with a smile towards me.
"I'm Tarella, nice meeting you. What's your name?" She asked in a husky voice
"Roxanne, Roxanne Williams" I responded taking in the blue jeans, black top and black sneakers she wore enviously as they certainly looked more expensive than my entire wardrobe.
"You mustn't waver; you should make the necessary changes so that Dera, the receptionist will forward your name to the CEO. You might get a chance when employed, to talk to the CEO about your Secretarial qualification"
I gave her a lizard nod as I couldn't trust my voice to say a sentence without breaking down in bitter tears. I thought of how much stress I had gone through just to get a degree in Secretarial studies, and my heart broke the more.
"Couldn't life at least take it a bit easy on me?" I pondered helplessly, watching as Tarella walked back to the typist, got my document and gently stapled them into my file. After stapling, she went through my documents and brought them back to me, nodding in approval.
"Go back to her, and display your file on her table. She'd include your name," she said, smiling again but this time around almost revealing her dentition.
I went back to the reception room and placed my file on her desk. In reply, she smirked before taking my file and typing my name into the laptop.
"You're number 8. Use the stairway to the fourth floor. When your number is called, you head into the CEO's office for your interview," she said, still wearing the smirk on her face.
DERA'S POV
I watched as the girl walked away with her long gown that was close enough to sweep the floor, in gladness. The turnout of events was quite favorable; for she had a first-class honor in Secretarial degree and I was not going to allow the bitch the opportunity to get the position before me. "How dare she, a mere orphan dream so big?"
I smiled triumphantly as she did my bidding, quickly changing the changeable and inserting the right position fit for her type. With that, at least the CEO will have no opportunity to notice her witch-like beauty or even her voluminous bosom.