Raw mortification washes over me as I hopelessly and desperately try to catch the bottle of tobwa but awkwardly fail as it soars through the air with one destination in mind.

I watch in horror; my eyes wide open and my mouth agape as the bottle beelines for the group walking towards me.

It's my boss, Derek, and his friends.

I wish just for once, just for me, the bottle could be gravity resistant. God surely has my back and won't let me go through this, will he?

Time seems to have stood still for everyone else but me. My arms hopelessly flap in the air, them too wishing for a change in gravity.

As the bottle flip-flops in the air in super slow motion, the thick cold brownish liquid pours out.

Derek with easy flexibility pulls the leggy woman by his side out of harm's way shoving her behind him but unfortunately for him, nearly half the contents of the fermented traditional drink spill on his shirt before landing on the floor with a thud.

What remains in the bottle seems to have the bright idea of splashing out onto his trouser and shoes which I have no doubt are handmade.

The plastic bottle roles away, in its wake, leaving a trail of the thick liquid, before one of Derek's bespectacled friends places his Brunello Cucinelli clad foot on it.

I freeze, closing my eyes. My mortification is complete.

I just want to die now. Somebody please, anybody, press the delete button and get rid of this clip.

All I hear is silence well, maybe God for once did hear my prayer? But no, a second later, I hear the high-pitched screech, that passes for Tamara's voice.

I tell you, a banshee has nothing on her.

'OMG!! Yankho, are you freaking blind or something? Look what you just went and did? Derek are you okay? Oh, the horror of it all. This is so disgusting.'

I open my eyes lost for what to do. I just stare at the big brownish stain on his white shirt. Derek pulls his shirt away from his body. His face contoured into an angry scowl. He ought to be upset. It's winter and today's cold though it's warm inside due to the air conditioner before this disaster that is my life happened, I had just taken the bottle out of the freezer in the staff room intending to heat it in the microwave.

I like my tobwa hot.

I try to fathom words but suddenly my tongue has taken leave of my mouth.

"Glad to know some things never really change after all,' the bespectacled Andrew Mutale says with a little chuckle momentarily looking up from his phone and taking his foot off the bottle. He casts me a mocking look.

God, I hate him.

'Gosh, you are so clumsy. Do you need four eyes to help you get about?' Tamara asks. She reaches in her bag and takes out a pretty white handkerchief and begins to wipe the grainy liquid off him.

"It's fine, I can do it myself," Derek says, halting Tamara's actions. He takes a step back and pulls the folded silky white hankie out of his jacket's breast pocket.

'I'm sorry sir... I'm really sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going,' I stutter; hating how timid my voice sounds.

'Obviously,' comes Tamara's snide comment. I look down worrying my hands.

I hate myself for that cause suddenly it's high school all over again. High school was my worst nightmare. The charity case of the school being mocked and looked down on by the cool rich kids. And just my luck, I find myself working for one of them. The Omni- God that is Derek Mwangala.

I hear the others chuckle at Tamara's snide comment but I shut them out refusing to let their smugness affect me. It's been a year since I started working here. And another ten months since Derek took over as the CEO. I have only met him once during the staff introduction meeting and since then I have gone out of my way to stay out of his way.

Whenever he was in our department, bless him and his hands-on approach, I would do my utmost best to busy myself with other stuff in another department.

I would even volunteer to do menial work. It worked just fine till now. I know our paths were bound to meet someday, I mean, Mukaba furniture is only so big, but why did it have to be today of all days?

God, why me? Why today? Why now? I ask myself inwardly screaming and stomping my feet.

I clear my throat as I continue to wring my hands in worry,' Sir, I'm sorry...I will wash it off for you. It will be ready in no time.'

'I think you have done enough for one day thank you.' I'm told dismissively by the queen bee.

'I'm sorry again sir, I didn't mean to.'

'The good that your sorry will do. You can't have clumsy employees like this Derek, she just has to go, look at you. Imagine if it was a client?' Tamara says.

'It was an accident,' I murmur without looking up at any of them.

'I have a meeting in ten,' Derek says, his voice impassive. I timidly lift my head to look up at him if only to gauge his reaction. The stoic expression has my anxiety levels soaring. How can I expect anything else? I have known that facial expression all five years of high school. If I had never seen him smile before, I would think the man never really smiles. The cold look in his eyes freezes me on the spot.

And I know, I'm done for there and then. I bring my eyes back to his now ruined suit. The brown stain is a contrast to his white cotton shirt and pinstriped, charcoal grey business suit that fits like a glove on his well-toned body.

"That looks gross,' Harry says,' What is that even?"

Harry a month younger than Derek is part of the Simwanza clan. They own a real estate and construction company. Harry went to Harvard just like the rest of them. They are like a set of quintuplets, joined at the hips. He did an architecture course. Of late his face has been seen in the media whenever it's something to do with the Simwanza empire. He is handsome in his own right with a body to back him up.

'Who knows, must be one of those strange concoctions she is always drinking,' chuckles Dalitso Akende as he opens the door for the others to walk through. He looks my way, a smirk on his face.

Dalitso is the son of two principalities. His mother is from the Royal Chinga kingdom of the Kubamba tribe in Muchinga province. His mother Princess Teliwe married the son of the royal family in politics, the Akende's though they too come from the royal family in the Western part of the country. The Akende's have been in politics since time immemorial. His paternal grandfather two decades ago saved as the countries president. His father is currently the sitting president having been elected not more than five months ago. His mother the first Lady also serves as the Minister for chiefs and traditional affairs. She had campaigned very heavily for her husband. Dalitso is their only son and rumors are going round in the political circles that he too shall soon be following in his grandfathers and now his father's footsteps.

I'm not surprised even back in school, he always showed leadership qualities with his easy charm and handsome face. He was the head boy in our last year of school and before that, the disciplinary prefect. In junior high, he was our class president. Voted in with ease with no one standing a chance.

"Come on I think I have a spare suit you can change into,' says the last of the quintuplets, Dr. Given Simataa as the door closes behind them. He wears specs that give him a sexy look. He is from a family of renowned medical personnel. It was no surprise really when he choose the same career path as the rest of his family. They own the best medical laboratories and hospitals that cater to the rich only. A mere consultation with them costs as much as my annual salary. Their hospitals and laboratories can be found in each province.

The sound of Tamara's heels clicking on the marble floor as they all head upstairs echoes like a gong of doom. My shoulders slump in defeat as I lean back against the wall.