Her Mr Perfect

PROLOGUE

“Do you know what she told me?” He asked, sounding so desperate and deeply troubled, his friend was listening to him keenly without interrupting, “I said TRUTH OR DARE?”

“She said TRUTH; I’m pregnant for you Mr. Perfect.”

His friend’s eyes widened in shock. “What did you say?” he asked, barely able to believe what he’d just heard.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he replied, looking shell-shocked. “I was so stunned, I just sat there, completely frozen.”

“How could she say something like that?” his friend asked, clearly dumbfounded.

“I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure she’s not joking.”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation to make, especially if it’s not true,” his friend said. “Do you think she’s telling the truth?”

Mr. Scott didn’t know how to answer that question.

“Did you sleep with that Razz lady?” His friend pressed further and he fought back to deny that question.

“It was a mistake! I was drunk! I didn’t know what I was doing!! I just...” He didn’t know how it happened, he was angry with her, he had dared her and she didn’t back out.

He had been angry...he always went into a series of arguments while she always shouted back just like she used to. He was driven by anger for her sauciness and dirty words. And then ... “It was a mistake Ollie.”

His friend heaved a sigh of frustration, “This is a big mess David. How are you going to deal with that kind of girl? I mean how did you even sleep with her? Miss Dustfinger? How did you even do it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m going to tell my girlfriend. Natalie will be so mad at me.”

“Then deny the pregnancy.”

“What?”

“Yes, if you don’t deny that pregnancy, your grandmother will make you marry her. You know her so well, this is like an ample opportunity for her to get you married.”

Another of Scott’s fears bursted, “I don’t want to get married and not to Her!! That girl is not a human being! She should’ve been born a boy! Have you even seen her body? So masculine! Bones everywhere!!”

“Can we call her and have a talk with her?”

Scott rolled her eyes, “That’s like jumping out from frying pan into fire. That girl has no sense. I think she should have some criminal records because she acts like one who escaped from prison. I don’t even want to talk to her. She’s so dirty! She don’t even wash properly especially her hair.” He gave a disgusting look remembering how messy her hair always is at work.

“But you still slept with her.”

“I don’t know how that happened.”

“That’s why I’m suggesting we invite her over and have a chit chat with her.”

Mr. Scott was still unsure about that. “I don’t know,” he said, his brow furrowed in thought. “I’m afraid she’ll just try to manipulate me or Natalie. I don’t know what she’s capable of but I know she’s very destructive and selfish.”

“That’s why I’ll be there,” his friend said, his expression serious.

“I’ll help you keep things calm and under control. I won’t let her take advantage of you or Natalie. I promise.”

Mr. Scott considered this, and after a moment, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

CHAPTER ONE

TRUTH OR DARE

DAHILA

Dustfinger this. Dustfinger that. He is the one who always loved to get on my nerves! It’s so bad that I’m always the one to be blamed for his rudeness! Argh!! I winced as I nearly cut myself with a knife. I looked at the apple I was peeling and tossed it back into the plate giving up on it as I reached for my phone.

It’s annoying the way everyone always blames me. Team manager will say:

He’s our boss, give him some respect.

He deserves respect from us!!!

Who said so? That man?

Right from the first day I walked into his office and he looked at me with his stupid demeaning eyes and mocked my name.

“Dahila Dustfinger, is that even someone’s name?” He had remarked sheepishly.

That’s when I knew that we would never get along in that company. I hate him. My whole body always cringes whenever I see him walk into the company every morning trying to act nice and handsome when he’s nothing but a bag of garbage.

His curly hair gets me wanting to throw up every time I see him. What’s he feeling like most times when he tries to show off his stupid set of teeth which are nothing but the rod of the rings in front of my eyes.

“Why don’t you like our boss?” One of my team mates and close friends at work, Cynthia asked me one day over the cafeteria after he had walked in to get himself a coffee.

“Because he’s not likable.” I had answered watching him, his sleeves rolled up to show off the stupid hairs on his arm, I mean, what’s so romantic about getting someone’s sleeve rolled up like that?

It’s romantic on all the guys I’ve seen but always looks so stupid on him. Nothing suits him. Just being annoying suits him better.

“I just hate him.” I had openly admitted not minding the consequences of what I had told her and she was giving me surprised looks but I didn’t mind.

“He’s too perfect for you to say you hate him.” She replied looking at me strangely but I didn’t mind.

“That word perfect makes me hate him more. Are you sure he’s not gay?” I asked because he sometimes acted like one.

A stupid gay male. Always jumping around like a little frog when he steps on a little dirt or when someone shakes him with a sweaty hand.

Ugh!

“Hey stop that! He has a girlfriend.”

I chuckled. “He has a girlfriend? How is she coping with him?” Oh! I pity the poor soul, how is she dealing with the garbage? I mean, doesn't she ever feel the need of offloading that garbage in a nearby dustbin.

“What does she even like in him? Some girls have a really bad taste in men.”

“Did you wash your hair today Dahila?” Cynthia asked me and my blood began to boil, her voice sounded so much like him. With his eyes staring at me with so much disdain whenever he asked me that question.

“I will wash it this weekend.”

“This weekend?” She furrowed her brows, “The week just started Dahila.”

I shrugged and poked my nose with the edge of my fork softly so I wouldn't injure my nose. “I don’t have time to wash my hair, I’m busy.”

“Busy? What’s your definition of being busy Dahila because I’ve never seen you as a busy person.”

I stopped poking and glared at her. She’s already crossing the boundary, “Cynthia, eat your food or get out.”

Because I don’t know why I should be getting scolded in my own place of work.