"Are you serious? You're the one who prepared this meal?" he asked, looking impressed.
"Of course I did," she replied confidently, claiming the food I cooked singlehandedly. She didn't even step into the kitchen once, not even to taste the soup. But there she was, taking full credit without blinking.
"There is no man on earth that will taste this kind of food prepared by a woman and not wish she was his wife," he continued, smiling widely. "I cannot wait to marry you and enjoy your meals every day. This food tastes like something special. The kind that makes a man rush home early because he keeps missing his wife's cooking."
I stood quietly behind them, pretending not to hear. My heart was heavy, but I kept a straight face. I really wanted to find out if he was the same man I met on the street some time ago. His voice sounded familiar, but I wasn't sure yet.
After she finished receiving all the praise meant for me, she suddenly shouted my name.
"Shari!"
I rushed forward immediately. "Yes, madam?"
"Clean up the table."
They had just finished eating, and she was already ordering me to tidy the dining table. Her boyfriend had cleared his plate completely and even licked his fingers. I used to think only very hungry and poor people ate like that, but clearly I was wrong. When food is sweet, status doesn't matter.
As I gathered the plates, I noticed my madam was busy chatting on her phone. Her boyfriend was relaxed on the couch, unaware of anything. I pretended not to look, but my eyes caught her screen. She typed quickly and smiled at her phone.
"I miss you too, my love," she replied to a message.
My heart skipped. Who was she talking to?
Another message came in. "How I wish you were here with me."
She replied immediately, "Me too."
I tried to take a quick glance at the profile picture, wondering if she was chatting with my runaway husband. But I couldn't see clearly. The contact name was saved as "MY DADDY."
"Before this year ends, I will visit Cameroon," the man texted.
"Okay, my love," she responded.
Just then, the phone started ringing. It was a video call. The phone was on silent, but I saw the screen light up. She quickly rejected the call. Obviously, she couldn't answer a video call in front of her boyfriend.
A message followed immediately. "Why are you not picking my video call? I want to see your face."
She typed fast. "There is no light here. You know how Cameroon is. It's too dark for a video call, and my battery is low. I will call you when there's power."
Another message popped up. "At least let me hear your voice, unless you don't want to talk to me."
Soon, a voice call came in. This time, she had no choice but to answer, so he wouldn't suspect anything. At least it wasn't video.
"Hello, Daddy," she said sweetly as she stood up and walked toward the kitchen. She even carried one empty plate to make it look like she was helping me, but I knew she just wanted privacy to continue her secret conversation.
As she disappeared into the kitchen, I returned to the dining room to clear the remaining plates. That was when her boyfriend looked at me carefully.
"Your face looks very familiar," he said slowly. "Do I know you? And you look very beautiful in that simple dress."
I lowered my eyes. "No, sir."
My appearance had changed so much that he couldn't recognize me. He was actually the same man who once referred me to my madam for this job. Life can be funny.
Just then, she walked back into the dining room and saw me addressing him respectfully.
"We have not met before, sir," I repeated calmly.
She pretended as if she didn't hear anything. But I noticed something change in his expression. He sounded uneasy, almost suspicious.
"Why is it that each time you receive your father's call, you always move away from me?" he asked her. "Is he really your father?"
The room suddenly felt tense.
"Is it everything that I discussed with my dad that you need to know?" she barked angrily, and he quickly tried to reduce the tension.
"Hey, calm down. You have never even picked his call in my presence."
"I don't care. What is your business with what I discuss with my father? Stop putting your nose in family matters," she spoke to him very rudely. "My father owns the company where you work as the manager. He owns this house too, so I must respect him."
He swallowed his pride. "So, Cheri, when am I meeting him? You know I love you."
He tried to move closer to her, maybe to hold her hand, but she pushed him away sharply.
"Don't touch me. I am no longer in the mood."
"But you called me because you missed me, right!."
"Not again," she snapped.
That was how she refused to let him sleep in the same room with her that night. The guy quietly carried his pillow and went to the guest room. The whole house was silent, but silence in that house always carried plenty of hidden noise.
Later that night, while I was in my small room arranging my things, I heard him chatting with his friend on the phone. His voice was low but clear enough for me to hear.
"I am with her just because I want to keep the job. That was why she employed me. Who wants to marry her? I am just pulling her legs. She is so secretive and behaves somehow."
"Really? Then be careful. This country is hard. It's not easy to find such a well-paid job, o," his friend warned.
I stood quietly by the door, listening. I knew M.J. was already in her bedroom upstairs.
The friend continued advising him, "Just play along and keep the job. Make her happy if that's what it takes, as long as you remain the manager in her company."
"Of course," he replied confidently. Then his tone changed, and he said something that made my heart skip. "My guy, guess what?"
"What do you want me to guess?"
His friend sounded curious, and what he said next made my heart begin to race.
"I think I have fallen in love."
"With your boss?"
"Abomination! This woman that is so rude, proud, secretive and arrogant? Fall in love? I am with her because of the job."
"You don fall in love with who?" his friend teased him in pidgin.
He laughed softly. "I like her new housemaid. You need to see this girl. She is fine like morning sunshine and fresh like new rain. It feels like I have seen her somewhere before, but she said no. She is beautiful. I am just trying to control myself. The girl get natural beauty I'm telling you ."
As he praised me, my heart began to long to be close to him. I didn't even know when I leaned against the wall, smiling to myself like a small girl who had just been promised sweets.
But something happened that night that made me understand that in that house, everybody was using everybody for one reason or the other.
I later walked upstairs to inform madam that I was going to sleep. She had instructed me never to go to bed without telling her, in case she needed me to run an errand. I knocked gently on her door, but it was slightly open.
What I saw and heard inside shocked me to my bones.