A Night In Manhattan

Kalani Monroe's Pov

Just like every morning in Manhattan, today was no different. It was a Saturday and the hotness coming from the environment was enough to get some cooking done–maybe I was exaggerating a little, but I hoped I’d been able to pass a message across. It wasn't something of a shock since the city had always been known to be one of the busiest and densely populated cities of New York city's borough. In this city, there'd been no difference between the weekends and the weekdays with car owners and transit buses rushing around the city and angry pedestrians trudging down the sidewalk. Well wasn’t every city like that? I supposed Manhattan just had to be a little extra in everything.

What I noticed about today however was that the traffic was so much worse than it would be on a weekday. Has Saturdays become the new Monday? I had been at a standstill for the past thirty minutes. I was on my way to a doctor's appointment because I had been showing signs and symptoms of flu for the past week and there was a possibility that I was infected. There was a possibility that I was going to need to take the whole week off and be away from work. The doctor was for sure going to talk about the type of environment I'd exposed myself to. I didn't know if food was a major contribution, but it was just a matter of time before I'd know what was up. Dear Lord, whatever happens, please do not let them say I should quit eating ice-cream. It would kill me completely. Ice-cream was something I always ate when I was sad, and fuck me if I had to quit eating it because of some health challenges that obviously, I was going to bounce back from.

My muscles ached, and my throat was sore as fuck. It pointed at something, but I didn't know what it was. You know when you were down with a particular sickness, and you were trying so hard to hide it from everyone, your boss included? Yeah, that was the situation I found myself in. It was a good thing that I was finally going to the hospital which meant that my boss, Artem, would give me some days off.

I was one of the best but not really recognized real estate agents Manhattan had to offer, I worked for one of Manhattan's biggest housing and real estate agencies, I worked with the Artem Gutler agency of Manhattan. I was formerly based in Los Angeles before moving to New York but a lot of clients didn't seem to like me. They would either come for a first appointment and then never return or would ask that they be linked with another agent. It kept on happening until I made up my mind to leave the Kabir Lenon agency in Beverly Hills, Los Angeles. A lot of agents had made a lot of money from the group because the housing cost in Los Angeles was insanely higher than other parts of the country–the reason was a no-brainer, though. You got to see the celebrities, the nice views and all–honestly, that shit just didn't get me excited. I seemed to be the one on the sidelines as I rarely got any clients, they would go through my profile and just ask for another agent. I decided to leave the agency, maybe Los Angeles wasn't just cut out for me. Although, it did hurt. Putting so much work into something you loved so much, and not really getting any results. It really did hurt.

After months of looking for real estate jobs online and nearby, the cost of living in the apartment became too expensive since I wasn't working and had just been depending on what was in my bank account until I was able to get a stable job, I decided to leave Los Angeles and California in its entirety because heaven knew that I needed a fresh start. Manhattan was just the right city to move to, I had gotten a job after just one month of moving to New York, I had been getting a lot of clients and a lot of people had been impressed with my work. Some landlords had even assigned me to be their realtors and that had given them a good price in the market.

"Miss Monroe, from the afore-mentioned symptoms, and from what I can see, it is most likely the flu. Can you tell me what you've exposed yourself to? You have to be completely honest with me." The bald doctor asked me as I sat on the recliner, half of my attention focused on his bald head while the other half racking my brain and thinking of a suitable answer that best fit the question I was asked.

"I gotta be honest with you?" I asked, my brows creasing. God, I could be so playful sometimes–even in matters like this that needed my hundred percent seriousness.

"Yes. A hundred percent." He smiled when he got the joke.

"Man, I've been sleeping naked and opening my window for a while now." I said, closing my eyes at how cheesy that must sound. God help me.

I opened my eyes, and saw that he smiled. Well, not too bad afterall.

"That is not the answer I was expecting."He chuckled." Did you by any chance go on a trip to any country and expose yourself to anything? "

None that I could remember as of recent.

"I don't think so." I said, biting my lower lip, and staring at him as though I could read his mind.

"What about your diet?" He asked.

"Does that have anything to do with the flu?" I asked. It had crossed my mind, but I didn't think that by any chance, the food I'd eaten would lead to me contracting the flu. Medicine was not my field, but those two words were so unrelated.

"Not so much, but it could be." He told me, smacking his lips together.

"Do you eat a lot of cold food?" He quizzed.

Mental drum roll. It was the moment of truth.

"It's not so much. Besides, after such stressful days at work, ice cream makes up for it. " I shrugged. as though it was no biggie. It really wasn't, was it?

"How old are you? " He asked me, ignoring the fact that I just said I usually ate ice-cream.

"I turned twenty-five in June. " I replied.

"Tell you what Miss Monroe, I think you're damn too young to have some types of illnesses . Your immune system is pretty strong and that's why it's been taking all of the thrash you eat. My advice is that you don't misuse the gift you were freely given."

"I'll try to drastically reduce my consumption of junks. Although, during some days, my schedule could be so stressful and it's just what is available that I'd eat. I always have ice-cream, " I lied. God help me, I lied. It was literally my health we were speaking of here, and not the doctor's health.

"Don't get me wrong but they actually help in cooling and regulating the body temperature when necessary but it's not healthy when it becomes a habit. " He informed me, and my eyes couldn't help, but return to his bald head. It wasn't funny, but it was so satisfying to look at. Judging from the way he looked, I was guessing he was in his mid-sixties.

"You should learn to take a lot of soup and hot stuff, it also goes a long way but it also shouldn't be eaten too much because it has its adverse effects. " He explained while I just kept on nodding.

"When was the last time you had the flu? " He asked.

"About a year ago when I was out with some friends on a winter break. " I was still a newbie in Manhattan at that time.

"I guess there was too much human contact. I mean, it was a trip? He asked. He was definitely hell bent on fishing the words I went on a trip out of my mouth.

"Yes, but doctor, that was a year ago. A lot could have happened after that time."

"I'll refer you to the pharmacist. " He said sharply, typing out some shit I had no idea what it was on his computer. My drugs. My fucking drugs! Goodness me, how I hated to swallow those things.

"You can go to him now. I've prescribed your drugs." He told me.

I got up from the recliner, and picked up my bag.

"Goodbye." I said to him before exiting his office.

I proceeded to go downstairs where the pharmacy was.

I got to the counter, and found two people apart from the pharmacist which meant I had to wait in the line–it could have been worse than that.

I randomly scrolled through social media until it got to my turn.

"Hello, and good afternoon." I greeted to not seem rude. It wouldn't make any sense to just walk there, and start demanding for my drugs. Do not get me wrong, it was something I was capable of doing, but this was a hospital. People who were ill came here, and so, they needed a fair amount of tranquility.

"Hello," The pharmacist, who I presumed to be in his late thirties, said. "Your name? Please."

I like the fact that he was straight to the point.

Once he found my name, and my prescription, he walked to get the drugs. He sauntered towards the counter to where I was.

He explained the doses to me and all I did was nod.

"You'd have to make sure to complete the drugs and not miss a single day, if you do, the symptoms could come back and it could get really worse. These drugs are strong and tend to have serious effects on the body if they're not used properly. " He said.

"Here it is and make sure to come back for a test once it has been completed. " He said, handing the drugs to me.

"Thanks." I said to him before walking out of the hospital. Apparently, I was to take the drugs for seven days before coming back for another test. God help me to remember.

The sun rays that hit my skin once I got out was a subtle reminder of the fact that this was Manhattan. Thank goodness I applied sunscreen before coming–in fact, I always used sunscreen because I would have had a list of skin problems with the rate at which the sun had been shining for the past weeks. The nature of my job required walking under the sun sometimes. It was a necessity for me to protect myself.

It wasn't too long after I got into my car that I received a phone call from an unknown number. I hit accept, and pressed the phone to my ear as I opted to stick my key into the keyhole.

"Who am I speaking with please?" I asked.

Whoever was calling me just had to wait, I was very sure it was from work but it said an unknown number. Maybe it was just a colleague from work calling to ask how I was doing. It wasn't like they actually cared, most of them had been jealous of me because of my success at the agency within just a short period and I hardly even kept any friends at the office. I had joined the company the previous year and I couldn't even boast or say that I had at least one friend. It pained a lot of people that I had been with the company for such a short amount of time and I could pretty much boast about what I had achieved anywhere in Manhattan when real estate agents were talking. Sadly, I never achieved one-tenth of that in Los Angeles.

"Hello, I'm Lucy Bartels, Secretary for Mr. Derek Payton from Dayton. I'd like to have an in-depth discussion with you once you're chanced.

First of all, it was a Saturday, and I wasn't working. My profile on the company's website said so. I didn't know why people could be so blind as to not see that.

"Today is Saturday." I responded in case she wasn't aware.

"Yes, I'm aware. I'm sorry if this is not convenient for you, but it is urgent, please." She said, waiting patiently for a response from me.

She added please. I just had to create time to hear whatever it was she had to say.

"I'm taking the whole of next week off from work due to some personal issues, but I'd let you know when I'd be chanced to speak with you." I told her.

"That would be nice. " She said from the other side of the line.

...

I was later informed that Dayton, one of the world's leading tech companies, would be getting a new branch in New York. Manhattan precisely was a likely city they were considering because it had tourist attractions and I was most likely going to be the agent that the company was going to be working with. If what I heard was true then that was going to add a fat bonus to my bank account and also boost my career since the CEO and founder himself was a whooping English billionaire, I didn't know so much about him but eighty-five percent of the New York population as well as The United States, used devices from the company even though the average class considered it to be a bit too pricey.