The noise grows louder when I enter through the tailoring department doors. Different, loud voices are raised- competing for dominance against the loudest voice. Abdullah's.

"What's going on?" I say to Phoebe in front of me.

"I couldn't get a clear explanation from Abdullah. They won't let him talk."

She opens the door and the noise gets sharper. I walk in and some of it ceases but then the murmurs start.

"Good morning." A chorus of greetings meet my ears then the place gets quiet. "Do I need to remind you gentlemen that noise doesn't get anything done? What's all the ruckus about?"

The uproar starts again and Abdullah calls for the quiet. "One spokesperson."

"Good morning, madam. My name is Amos. We have a problem that we communicated to our boss, Abdul, a few weeks ago. He said he would carry the matter to you and sort it out but we haven't heard anything yet."

Abdul speaks up. "Miss Padmore, I placed the document on your desk for your go ahead. I sent a mail also, Phoebe is aware. I know how busy you are so I've been asking them for their patience but it-"

"Our families are not benefitting from your patience! The work is too much!"

"I have a babygirl but she barely knows me. This is not fair."

"Gentlemen." I take a step forward, raising my voice a little. "This is a very simple matter. It will be dealt with quickly, I can assure you. But ambushing your boss man and shouting the building down helps no one. I understand that you did what you were supposed to some time ago and got no response-I will hold Abdul for that. Everything will be taken care of. In the meantime, please complete the orders for our prestige clients before the weekend. We have a new wave of work coming soon. Good day, gentlemen."

The murmurs of the men behind me follow me out the door. Phoebe is close by.

"Let Abdul know that I want to see him in my office, please. And please find the document he's talking about."

"Alright."

Her footsteps fade and I exhale. It hasn't been two hours since I've been at the office but I am already anxious. What's bad is that I can't figure out what's causing it. Everything at the office is going according to plan and new work comes in every other day. Work is going great.

I enter my office and sit behind my desk. "Hey Siri. Do I have any messages?"

"Here's a text from Michael. I'm making my special pasta for you tonight at my place. Please don't be late. Be good. There are no other calls and messages."

The message from Michael fails to arouse my interest. I still have the feeling that he's not being completely honest with me and so it is killing most of the feelings that has been growing for him since we reconnected. And I am sure he knows.

Somehow, I was hoping that Travis would find my number and call me. How silly am I? It doesn't seem right anyway-pining over an old classmate when I have one leg in a relationship.

I am not even sure why I am referring to it as pining. Vivian Padmore doesn't do those things. In public.

"Boss. Abdul is here." Phoebe says and comes closer to the desk. "Here's the file you asked for."

"Miss Padmore."

"Please sit." I sit up and clasp my hands on the table. "How many tailors do we have?"

"Thirty tailors."

"Okay. How long have we had them?" I go through the document quickly, to get the summary of it.

"I don't understand..."

"How long has it been since you hired other tailors, Abdullah? According to this, you were set to begin the hiring process a month ago because the work load was too much. Why didn't you start?"

There is some shuffling. "I was waiting for your go ahead, Miss Padmore."

I sigh and sit back in the chair. "Abdul. You're the head of that department for a reason. Do I need to host a special workshop so you can understand your duties? There are certain things that you just do, without consulting me. Like hiring tailors when you know we are in need of them. You're the one who's always there, supervising and assigning work. I trust your judgement. If I didn't, you wouldn't be the head. Okay?"

"I understand."

"Yes. Please. The tailors are the very foundation of this place. Without them, we might as well go back into retail. They get the job done. I can't have them protesting and not getting what they want or deserve. Please fix this. Fix up a meeting with Phoebe for Friday so we can discuss incentives and a little raise for your department."

"Okay, I will. Thank you, Miss Padmore." He leaves after that.

Before long, Phoebe comes scurrying in. "Boss? The Vice President is here, in the building. The entire team is in the hall, waiting."

I stand up immediately and smooth down my skirt before following her out the door. I am a little nervous but only because it will be my first time meeting her. I've had top notch clients come and go from high seats of power so I am prepared. But I've always had a special love for her.

"This is Vivian Padmore, CEO of VFashion." Phoebe introduces me and I smile politely.

"Vivian. I've heard a lot about you and your work." Her voice, as I remember it from the radio and TV stations, is light and airy but filled with confidence. "I'm sorry for dropping in on you like this but my sister has been raving about you since she came back for a visit. I just had to see for myself."

"It's no problem, ma'am. We are always happy to host you and your team. And I must say, I'm really happy to hear that you have an interest in my work. It's flattering."

"Yes, you've had a lot of good reviews. Is it possible to see some of your clothing, like a showcase?"

I nod. "Of course. The showroom is this way. Phoebe?"

She takes my arm and we walk towards the side of the building that I spend most of my time. In no time, we reach the room and Phoebe opens the door.

"Okay, wow. These pieces are amazing. Did you sew these?"

I fold my hands in front of me. "Yes, ma'am. Most of them. The mannequins are displaying the most styles by clients on the left. On the right are the new styles that we introduce every other week, to give clients a fresh take for new additions to their wardrobe. The table in the middle holds the stack of style books, organized according to letters and numbers. Every dress, pant s, skirt, jumpsuit or blouse we sew has a name. This gives us a clear understanding of what the client might want when referring to a certain style that they want to repeat."

"Beautiful. And very organized, I must say." Her almost silent footsteps lead away from me for a bit. "Can I have one of these books? I need to look through them."

"Yes, ma'am."

There are some whispers but I can't make out the words. Then footsteps head my way. "I will have my PA meet you on Friday with my choices or ideas. It is possible for me to bring my own style, right?"

"Right."

"Alright, great. I must go now, there's an engagement and I have to show up. It was really nice to meet you, Vivian. Not only are you running your business well, you're also influencing the young women of our country. I've heard about the different programs you've been having. Thanks for taking that initiative."

I smile. "It's my pleasure. After all, it is because of someone's interest and support in my future that helped me become the person I am. You, madame Vice President."

She laughs a little. "We thank God. I look forward to seeing you again, Vivian. Keep up the good work."

"Thank you, ma'am. Many thanks for stopping by, VFashion appreciates you."

In a few minutes, the presence of all the people that had accompanied her is gone.

Phoebe breathes a sigh of relief. "Wow. Could you tell how nervous I was?"

"A little bit. When you held my hand, you were shaking." We leave the room together.

"The Vice President of the Republic of Liberia and most of her entourage just walked into my workplace, casually. How were you not nervous?"

"You saw her and all the people that came with her. Your sight was the reason for your nerves. I on the other hand, heard her voice. Just hers. It was easier for me." I enter my office. "Please let my other appointments know that I'm not available. If you can deal with it, go ahead. If you can't, please reschedule."

"Alright."

I close my door and lock it. A wave of fatigue hits me as I sit down and take off my sandals, rubbing my feet. I don't have any reason to be tired-the night before was spent sleeping. Michael made sure of that. After brunch, he stayed over until the night came and made dinner for me. He was the sweetest, doing everything right. The contract that they had come to talk about on Friday wasn't mentioned even though I expected it. But then, Michael is no rookie. He is a pro at charming the things he wants out of people. And because I know that, I was on my guard for the rest of the day, barely letting myself enjoy all the things he did.

Until he kissed me.

I had taken a bath and was sitting up in bed with a book when he came in. He asked me about the book and it's contents and listened as I explained. It was hard to get the words out because I could feel his gaze on me. For the first time in the day, it didn't make me want to push him far away or distract him. I wanted him to keep looking at me. I liked it.

Michael was full of surprises that night. The biggest one was when he asked me if he could kiss me. He never asks. But when he did, and I said yes, something shifted with us. We spent the night, tangled up in the sheets and each other's arms. He was gentle and soft, but I didn't feel like a porcelain doll. However, I realized that he was a little uncertain about how I felt and didn't want to do anything to turn me off.

"Ugh."

I am happy about our reunion but I couldn't stop thinking about the most daring thing I have done in my entire life. Every time I think about it, a big smile creeps on to my face. I want to see him again and talk more. I also want to ask him why he didn't ask for my number.

I want to talk to him and hear him eat. Hear him laugh again at something that I'd say. Now that I have a little confidence, I want to use it and get to know him. My want to know him is innocent; I didn't give myself that satisfaction back then.

Innocent until he talks.

Then I start to imagine him whispering words that would summon enough blushes from any woman close enough to hear. And I know that all of this will stay in my imagination if I don't call the number.

But will I?