The flower he picked, was the prettiest of them all

Temi woke up the following day shivering and with a throbbing head. Every time she moved her head, the pain only got worse, so she just laid still. She caught a whiff of burnt food from somewhere down her apartment, and it dawned on her that she hadn’t been eating much. Temi found the food in the hotel very terrible, so she opted for junk food instead.

 

She lay still for a few more minutes, waiting for some sun to brighten her room. She reminisced about yesterday’s event, the people she met, the guest house and most significantly, the walk with her boss.
It was the first time they would talk at length. Temi, who had a great sense of humour, found him hilarious. She realised how highly-accomplished and clever he was and yet was humble, never once flaunting his knowledge in the way she had grown to dislike other men.
He also appeared to be more pleasant than she remembered from the first time she started working with him.

She pushed back the blanket, got out of bed and searched for her slippers before padding across the tiled floor to her desk. Temi took her bag and hurried back to the warmth of the bed. She plumped her pillow against the wall and rested on it. Tucking her hand into their bag to bring out her phone, she felt a wave of nausea hit her.
She was homesick. She thought about what her mother could be doing at that moment, probably gossiping with her fellow traders. And her siblings, going about their daily activities. She had lost her dad to a car accident while she was young.

 Temi readjusted her pillow and took the biscuit from her bag. She dialled her mother number and immediately changed her mind. She would message her instead. Dropping her phone and glancing at the clock, which showed 10.30 a.m.

Her tummy growled loudly. She had to eat, but the hotel food was always overcooked and flavourless.

“Rubbish, Rubbish”, she muttered, looking down at the empty biscuit tin. She was still murmuring when she felt the vibration on the bed and jumped. It was her phone. The screen showed “Muhammad”.

“Hello Temi” His rich baritone floated over the phone. One could quickly tell he just woke up too.
“Good morning, sir,” Temi said and hurriedly got out of bed.
“Yeah, morning”,, Muhammad replied.
“Do you mind going out today?” He asked. “I mean, would you love to visit some notable place before leaving the country?”
“Yes, sir, sounds great.”
“Ok then, see you by 2 p.m.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling, then she checked the wall clock.

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