02: Masochist

''You did what?'' Ophelia's voice rang into Quincy's ear making her pull the phone away from her ear. Ophelia was her elder step-sister and her best friend.

Ophelia's father who was a widower with one child had married her mother who had been a divorcee when Quincy was five.

''Oh my God, Quincy, who could have ever thought, that behind that pious face resides a little slut.''

''You are not helping matters,'' Quincy groaned as she pulled up the blinds.

She stared into the almost empty parking lot, four floors down. Almost everyone, save for those working the night shift, had already left for the day.

She could not help but envy them.

They must have had loved ones waiting for them; she on the other hand had long forgotten what it felt like to want to rush home to her loved ones, "I shouldn't have called you.''

''But Quincy, you have to let me savor this moment,'' Ophelia protested. ‘‘It is not every day your 'holier than thou' sister propositions a man. So, how did it go?''

''It was embarrassing.''

''As it ought to be.''

''It's all your fault.’’

Ophelia, who was pounding maize to make samp in a large wooden mortar at their parents' house, straightened and put the pestle down," how is it my fault?''

''Like you do not know,’ she mumbled accusingly, “You put the crazy idea in my head.''

''I did? When...oh no! No, ways Quincy. Did you take me up on my advice?'' she asked before she burst into laughter.

''Not helping.''

''Quincy, you ought to know better than to take me seriously on anything I say when drunk. Look I know how desperate you are to have a child but taking advice from someone like me is very dangerous.''

''I know that now," Quincy bit out.

Ophelia moved from her window and went to sit on the pile of blocks, "you took my advice huh? You know, I have given you countless pieces of advice regarding that sham of a marriage you have with Samuel and you never heed to any of them. I cannot believe you went and picked the silliest advice I have ever given you.''

Quincy sighed. It had seemed like a piece of good advice before she had opened her mouth and blatantly asked her boss to make love to her so she could conceive. She covered her face wishing to erase the conversation from her head.

''Oh Quincy, I'm sorry. If I had known that you would take me up on my advice, I would not have opened my big mouth,'' Ophelia said apologetically. More than anyone else, Ophelia was well aware of how desperate Quincy was to have a child of her own.

‘It’s okay. What’s done is done.’’

''Will you be okay? Do you need me to come over?’’ Her playful tone was replaced by one of concern.

''I'm good. I have to go, I still have reports to get through.''

On the other side, Ophelia heaved heavily before opening her mouth, ''Okay sis, take care and don’t think too much about it.’’

Easier said than done, Quincy thought as she cut the line, pulled back the seat, and sat. She picked up a file and tried to get some work done, but her mind refused to concentrate on anything, other than her humiliating lunchtime conversation with her deity like a boss. The harder she tried to pretend the conversation had not happened, the more it echoed in her head.

She wanted to go home and bury her humiliation in a pillow. However, time seemed to be against her, it tickled by in slow motion as she sat behind her desk in the office. She wished the day had never happened at all.

A knock on the door interrupted her thought. Her secretary Zoe, a pretty young woman in her early twenties, stood in the doorway. Long mixed-colored braids hung down her shoulders.

" Mrs. Chansa?"

"Zoe."

"I will be leaving now, is there anything else you need me to do for you?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay then, see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," she replied and got back to the files on her desk.

A few hours later, as she looked at the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time, she realized time moving at a snail's pace was in her favor because home was the last place she wanted to be.

She let her head fall to the table and gently thumped it against the wooden surface.

What had seemed like a good idea was now the worst idea ever!

Work was her haven from the drama at home but now, she would have to feel awkward around Kiefer. They had not been able to come to any agreement as she had left his office when his two friends and Sierra, the leggy bombshell from Human Resources had come.

Before she could securely close the door behind her, she had heard his friend Kelvin ask him what she was doing at the head offices. She had scurried out of the place such that even her shadow could not keep up even though a part of her had been curious to hear what he would say to his friends.

Just what had she been thinking? She groaned as she continued to punish her head. If he had told them about her crazy proposition, she was sure by the end of the week, everyone in the company would have heard it and she would be the laughing stock.

Reality sucked. She liked her fantasy better.

''You are going to give yourself a brain hemorrhage,'' a way too familiar deep baritone voice drawled from the doorway.

Quincy froze.

No, she protested inwardly, he could not and should not be here. Maybe if she stayed still for a while, he would go away.

She could not look at him and live it down. She could hope that it was all a part of her overly active imagination, but his subtle aromatic and woody cologne hit her nostrils.

Earlier, she had been on some crazy drug let free in the air. Cause there was no way, absolutely no way in her right mind that she could have blatantly propositioned him.

''So now we are playing ostrich, how is that going?'' he continued, amusement marring his voice.

Groaning, Quincy slowly lifted her head.

Kiefer Bartley stood in the doorway donning a casual outfit.

Out of their own accord, her eyes slowly traveled up his body and overtly ogled his sturdy body.

The pair of dark blue jean slacks accentuated his thick thigh muscles. The white long-sleeved polo neck clung to his torso, molding his muscles.

On his feet were designer sneakers. He completed the look with an expensive gold wristwatch and a white gold neck chain.

Quincy found herself wondering what it would feel like to run her fingers over his bulging biceps.

She smiled secretly to herself, 'I bet they are as rock hard as they look.'

Unfortunately for Quincy, when she tried to take a sneak peek at his face, she found him staring at her intently. His brown eyes twinkled with amusement as his mouth quivered into a sinful, sexy smirk, causing her cheeks to burn up.

She quickly lowered her eyes, mortification washing over her. Could this day get any worse? For the second time in one day, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

He was a sight meant for a glossy magazine cover. It was no wonder she had run away with the fantasy of getting romantically involved with him.

''Like what you see?'' he asked, cutting through her thoughts, a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth as a mischievous glint flashed in his chocolate-colored eyes. His pearly whites dazzled her.

Quincy almost sunk in her chair; she had not realized she had been openly ogling him and that he had been watching her.

''You are so arrogant. What are you doing here?'' Flustered, she reached for a file.

Kiefer shrugged his broad shoulders nonchalantly as a cocky smile spread on his attractive face.

He pushed himself away from the doorframe, closed the door with his foot, stalked to her table, and placed the bag he was carrying on the desk. He looked down at her, his mouth quivering into a sexy smile.

''We have a pending conversation,'' he replied to her question.

''Oh that,'' she said and let out a high-pitched laugh. She thought her voice came out a little squeaky.

"Yes, that."

''Can we just pretend that it didn't happen?'' she asked and waved her hand to brush the incident away. She reached for another file and pen, the file she had picked seconds earlier discarded to the side.''I hope you didn't take me seriously, we all have those moments you know.''

Quincy peeped up at him from under her thick dark lashes. She watched as he pulled the visitor's chair and he made himself comfortable in it, automatically making the room seem smaller.

Quincy nearly had a heart attack. What was he doing? Couldn't he see she didn't want to have a repeat of the earlier conversation?

''Your kids?'' he asked, reaching for the larger of the three picture frames on the table.

She smiled and nodded. It seemed like yesterday but almost two years had passed since the picture was taken. They had all been happy before her home had become a minefield she was afraid to step in.

''Sir Kiefer, I am sorry about this afternoon. I hope what I did does not affect our working relationship.''

''You all seem happy,'' he said, ignoring her apology, and reached for the bag. He took out two juice boxes and two takeaway bags.

As the aroma from the bags filled the room, it was only then she realized she had not had anything to eat since she had left home in the morning.

Her stomach rumbled in emphasis. She cast him a tight apologetic smile; it just was not her day.

''All girls?'' he continued looking at the picture of five girls who were between the ages of five and fifteen.

Quincy nodded as she accepted the bowl from him. Her mouth watered at the sight of the giant quesadilla sloppy Joes. He opened the apple juice box and placed it before her. She murmured her thanks and sunk her teeth into the scrumptious meal.

''They are my husband's kids,'' she said after a while. '' I have been married for ten years and I am yet to give him a child.''

Kiefer was surprised. He turned back to the picture and pointed to the girl with a toothless grin. ''She looks about eight, you say you have been married for ten years and she should be about five.''

What could she say? That she was the joke of the neighborhood. That her mother was too ashamed to even talk about her to her friends. Or that if by noon tomorrow, she had not produced evidence of a pregnancy, her marriage would be over?

Even if Kiefer had said yes to her crazy proposition, and they did the deed, it was not as if she would automatically conceive.

Unless his pearl jams were super soldiers.

She chuckled at the thought of it if it was possible to conceive overnight and have her stomach balloon up. The looks of shame on her mother's face and those of her in-laws would be priceless.

After ten years of a childless marriage, a marriage where she had been deemed not woman enough, she would finally be vindicated.

Quincy did not realize Kiefer was intently watching the play of emotions on her face.

He cleared his throat to get her attention; she looked up at him, a wan smile fleeting across her facial features.

She blinked her eyes and turned to the picture. ''The eldest is Aliyana, she turns fifteen next month. I didn't know about her until about a year after my marriage. She was just four then. I had dated Samuel since I was eighteen. She is Genevieve,'' she said, pointing to the second eldest. "She is eleven, a year older than my marriage. This one, she is the most adorable one, her name is Audrey, she will be nine sometime this year and the toothless and chubby one is Natalia, seven. The youngest is Chibesa soon to be five.''

''Your eyes light up when you speak of them,'' he said. '' You love them despite the circumstances with which they came into your life.''

''My sister Ophelia calls me a masochist.''

Kiefer chuckled. '' Are you?''

She got the picture and traced the girls' faces. "I don't know. They are all innocent in all this.''

''Guess they are. So hypothetically speaking, if I say yes to your request...''

Quincy's cheeks burned. Did he really have to bring that up?

''Oh, you don't have to. It was a moment of madness,'' she mumbled, nearly sinking into her seat.

One I have been weighing for weeks, she said to herself.

''Hypothetically speaking, if you don't conceive then what happens?''

Though he was not close to her, he deduced only desperation could have driven her to approach with such a crazy proposition.

What was even crazier was that he didn't know whether to be flattered or angry.

Quincy let the question sink in for a second.

''Then it will be a foregone conclusion that I am barren,'' she said casually but Kiefer who never took his eyes off her noted the pain in her eyes even though she tried to cover it with the smile that spread on her face and caught the hurt in her voice.

So it's like that, Bernard thought then sprang up to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets.

''Come on it's late I will drive you home.''

''Oh you don't have to, there are still buses...,'' she began clearing her throat and reaching for a file. The less they saw each other, the better.

''Quincy,’’ Kiefer drawled out her name, loving the way the name rolled off his tongue.

Quincy looked up at him and for a moment got lost in his eyes. His cello-like voice and mesmerizing eyes made her heart beat faster.

‘’It wasn’t a request,’ he told her firmly yet in a gentle manner she was unable to refuse.

''Yes, sir," she mumbled in defeat.