Chapter Four: Looking For A New Job
James turned and swung at the second guard. The man dodged, and the punch landed on the third guard instead, who collapsed instantly.
The second guard tried to kick James, but James caught his leg and countered with a sharp kick to the stomach, sending the guard flying backward into the fourth and fifth guards. The three of them tumbled—some hitting the wall, others landing hard on the floor.
The last guard, stunned by the scene, opened the door and ran—perhaps to get backup. James didn't wait to find out.
He seized the opportunity and grabbed Gift by the wrist, twisting her arm behind her back.
"Agh! Please, let me go!" she cried out. "I'll pay you! I'll give you your money!"
"No," James said, his voice cold. "Not until I have it in my hand."
Just then, a young man—about twenty-three—entered the room. His name was Jude, one of the junior staff. Seeing the chaos, he paused, stunned.
Gift, still in pain, barked out orders. "Jude! Get me the checkbook. Let me settle this man and end this madness."
Jude hesitated but obeyed. He grabbed the checkbook from the drawer and handed her a pen. She quickly scribbled out a check for the amount she owed James—three months' salary—and handed it to him.
James glanced at it, confirming the amount. Satisfied, he released her, took the check, and walked out of the office without another word.
James got home that evening after spending the day with a friend. It had been a rough day—he'd just been fired from work.
As he entered the sitting room, he found his mother-in-law, Hannah, and his wife, Nora, chatting quietly. He greeted them briefly and walked straight into the guest room where he had slept the previous night. Lying on the bed, he stared at the ceiling, troubled. How do I tell them I lost my job?
After a few moments of restless thinking, he finally summoned the courage to face them. He walked back into the sitting room and stood beside the sofa where Hannah was seated.
"James, how was work today?" she asked, turning toward him.
"Not that good," he replied, his face clearly weighed down by sadness.
"Why? You don't look happy. What happened?"
Hannah could be kind to James from time to time, though her affection was always stronger toward her daughter. She adored Nora deeply.
"I... I was fired today," James stammered. "Because of my lateness."
"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear," Hannah said, genuinely concerned. "Don't worry—I'll help you get a job at one of my companies." She smiled softly. Hannah owned three successful businesses in the country and meant what she said.
James's face lit up with a small smile. "Thank you. I'd be very grateful."
"You can go and start dinner," she added.
"What should I cook?" he asked.
"Check the kitchen timetable and prepare what's listed there," she said.
James nodded and headed to the kitchen. As he cooked, his mind wandered. If one door doesn't close, another won't open, he thought. Maybe getting fired was the only way I'd ever get this new opportunity. And maybe it'll be better than the last.
The next morning, James woke up early. He completed all his chores diligently before preparing to visit one of Hannah's companies—T and K Company—where he hoped to get a new job.
T and K was a well-known business empire that catered mostly to the wealthy. James had never been there before, but he had heard stories about it.
Despite the way he was often treated in his in-laws' home—like a servant, unappreciated, and overlooked—James remained focused. His wife, Nora, barely helped around the house, yet James never complained. He was determined to succeed, move out, and build a life of his own.
Once he finished preparing breakfast, he ate quickly, grabbed his bike, and began the 30- to 40-minute journey to the company.
When he finally arrived, he paused in front of the impressive building. The exterior alone was enough to stir dreams in him. One day, I'll be sitting inside one of those offices, he told himself. He didn't have a certificate, but he had something else—vision.
As he approached the entrance, a man in uniform stopped him.
"Hey, stop there. Where do you think you're going?" the man asked, stepping forward.
"I'm going into the company," James replied confidently.
The man scoffed, eyeing James's modest clothes. "You can't just walk in like that. You must be a beggar."
James felt a surge of anger. "What?! How dare you? Do you know me?"
"I don't need to know you to guess what you're here for."
"Mister, if you don't want trouble, let me in," James warned. "Or else—"
The waiter interrupted him with a mocking laugh. "Or else what? Even if you turned into a lion, I still wouldn't let you in."
Before James could respond, a sharp voice rang out from his left.
"What the hell is going on here?" The man's tone was loud and authoritative as he walked briskly toward them. He wore the same uniform as the first waiter—clearly another staff member.
"I came here looking for a job," James explained quickly, "but this man wouldn't let me in. He even insulted me—called me a beggar."
The second waiter stopped in front of James, gave him a slow, judgmental once-over, and shook his head in mock pity. "You're looking for a job, and you show up dressed like that? You don't look serious. Honestly, it looks like you stole those clothes."
James's eyes narrowed in anger. "Don't talk to me like that. I'm not a thief."
The waiter smirked. "Then get out of here. Now. Or I'll call the police to deal with you."
He wasn't bluffing. His brother was a police officer, and he often used that threat to intimidate people.
One waiter, one problem. Two waiters—double trouble, James thought bitterly. He realized there was no point in arguing further. He needed help—and fast.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Hannah's number. Thank God I have her contact, he thought. Otherwise, I'd have been forced to return home humiliated.
The phone rang for a moment before Hannah picked up.
"James, how far? Have you reached the company yet?"