Getting His Ex Back At All Cost

Michelle Sanders poured more gloss into her rich black hair and stared at her reflection for the millionth time. She stood upright and inspected the outfit she had chosen for the evening. It was a light brown chiffon top that complimented her beautiful glossy skin tone and it was tucked in with black palazzo pants. She noticed her curves and stared at her big round butts which pushed the pants to form a perfect figure.

Michelle was very beautiful and she knew it. But she always took her time to stare at her reflection before leaving the house in the mornings when she reported at the firm of tax lawyers she had worked with for three years, and even when she was going out for a morning jog. She gathered her hair and leveled them on her shoulder before deciding the lip gloss was not enough. She reached for it, pressed it against her lips, and smacked them until it was evenly spread on her small lips. Then she practiced a few smiles.

“You don’t need to try too much.”

Michelle shifted her gaze from the standing mirror to the other lady in the room, Beverly. They had met in college when Michelle was reading for hours, trying to pass out of law school with a distinction. Beverly was making a career in performing arts. It was Beverly’s first week in Chicago and she was tired of spending good money on hotels. Michelle was trying to find accommodation outside the premises of the law college.

Michelle was bargaining with Tonia, the house agent when Beverly announced herself into the small office. Beverly needed a room. Michelle couldn’t afford the high cost. Tonia was exhausted for the day and she figured it was better if the two ladies rented the apartment together. Lesser work for her.

“I know, Bev,” Michelle responded. She took a quick glance at the mirror again before moving to the shoe rack where work shoes dominated. She picked a black stiletto that belonged to Beverly. It had become a rule never to ask for anything. She placed the heels over her feet and added six inches to her height.

Beverly was dressed in a black mini gown and red sling-back heels. “Let’s go, Mich.”

***

The Nile restaurant was one of the most prestigious eat-outs in Chicago with a fascinating and compelling frontier. It was the best stop for most of the affluent in Chicago and tourists who wanted to get a taste of the best of the city. It had always been Beverly’s dream to sit on one of those finely polished chairs and have the livered waiters attend to her. When she had saved up enough money, she thought it was wise to live like a rich lady, and she wanted Michelle to experience it too.

***

Oliver Shane had a long day at the company and all he desired was a good meal. Not just any meal but the meal from his favorite restaurant in town.

The car gradually came to a halt right in front of the parking lot, while the driver rushed out to open the door of the backseat. Out came the glamorous, flair young man, Oliver, dressed in an ash-colored suit vest with a white shirt, sleeves rolled and ash pants to match, a watch on the left hand with a ring on his pinky finger, a pair of black brogue shoes, some dark shades and a smile to match it all up. He was charming and of a good height.

The security man at the door greeted him twice and he strutted in. He glanced to his favorite spot in the restaurant and noticed it was occupied by two ladies.

A waiter ran to his side when he noticed his pause.

“What’s the matter, sir?”

Oliver pointed to his spot. “Occupied.” He frowned at the waiter.

“I’ll get it sorted out at once,” the waiter said and hurried to the corner table.

The two women were sipping wine and waiting for their orders when the waiter rushed to their side.

“Pardon me misses, but this table needs to be vacated,” he stated. The women were disgusted.

“We just got in here,” Beverly stated. “Don’t we have a right to sit wherever we want?”

“Y-yes, of course! But this is an emergency.”

Beverly was ready for an argument about why she needed to remain undisturbed. She had saved up for weeks to afford the restaurant. Do they smell poverty too?

Michelle placed her hand gently on Beverly’s hand. “It’s a good thing that our order hasn’t arrived. We can move to another table, Bev.”

Beverly eyed the waiter angrily.

“I beg your patience,” he offered.

“Let’s go.” Beverly grabbed her purse and moved to two tables behind. Beverly was still fusing about the ill-treatment when Oliver walked up to the vacated table. Beverly stopped when she saw the tall, handsome man walking gracefully towards his table. She watched him until he was sitting comfortably on the chair she sat on a few seconds ago.

Their orders arrived and for a few seconds, Beverly focused on the meal set before them.

“Cheers to the big life,” she said.

Michelle smiled. The big life was great and luxury was golden. She just didn’t know if she could get used to it. She dug knife and fork into the rotisserie chicken and reveled at the way it melted on her tongue. Surely, she could do this every weekend if she had the money to toss out.

Oliver sat a few meters before them with his phone latched between his ear and his elevated shoulder.

“Kayla…will you listen to me now?” He was visibly annoyed. “I didn’t become CEO by being lazy…and I don’t want to hear your excuses. I want those documents typed and submitted on my desk by 8 in the morning or consider typing a resignation letter instead.”

As Kayla continued speaking, Oliver glanced around the restaurant. His order had arrived and was slowly cooling down. He noticed a lady in a black gown sitting some tables away stealing glances at him. He glanced at her exposed thighs and remembered she was one of the ladies he had displaced earlier. Kayla’s excuses caught his attention again and he groaned angrily.

“Kayla, I’ll say this one last time. I want those documents ready or you can prepare your resignation letter tomorrow. Goodnight.” He ended the call and dropped the phone on his table. A sigh of exasperation escaped from his mouth and he stared at his compensation. After a stressful day, he deserved nothing but a good treat. He dug into the meal, took a bite, and escorted it with a flush of red wine. Oliver was a slow eater. He took his time to survey the outside world and the restaurant again before he found his gaze settling on the table where the two ladies dined. This time, he studied the other lady. With her black hair falling carelessly on her shoulder and a continuous smile on her face, she looked beautiful. He watched her as she spoke to the other lady who he had caught gazing at him earlier. His eyes fell to the physique he could see above the table and he concluded she was sexy. His gaze moved to the meal before him again and he took a bite.

Beverly took a sip of the wine beside her and smiled. “That’s Oliver Shane,” she said.

Michelle raised her head from her plate. “Who?”

“The guy who took our table.”

Michelle took a glance at him and noted that he was good-looking. “Okay.” She returned her attention to the food before her.

“Okay?! Oliver is a big name in America, not just Chicago.” She sighed. “We should do this again. Next month, Mich.”

Michelle toyed with the piece of chicken on her plate. “You know I cannot afford that, Bev.”

Beverly rolled her eyes. “C’mon, babe. You work in a law firm – a tax law firm. You see money every day.”