The morning air in Lagos carried a kind of restlessness — thick with humidity and the promise of a long, demanding day. It wasn't even 7 AM, yet the compound outside the guest apartments buzzed with life as staff hurried to prepare for what Kelvin had declared "an all-hands-on-deck" day. No one was entirely sure what to expect, but when Kelvin said move, you moved.
Chioma dragged herself out of bed, still half in the haze of sleep, her limbs sore from the restless night. She hadn't slept much. Not with Kelvin's sharp voice echoing in her head from the night before during their unplanned roommate moment and all the teasing tension that refused to die down. She barely touched the tea she made afterward.
By the time she got outside, the company bus was already waiting. A few of the team members stood by the side, laughing over something Miriam had said, while Emeka checked his watch impatiently. Kelvin was nowhere to be seen, though his black SUV was parked in its usual intimidating spot by the gate.
Chioma quickened her steps, adjusting the strap of her sling bag as she approached the bus. Just as she was about to climb in, a voice cut through the air — sharp, commanding.
"Chioma, you ride with me."
She froze. The voice was unmistakable. Kelvin.
Turning, she saw him standing by the driver's side of his SUV, expression unreadable, already adjusting his watch as if he hadn't just publicly called her out in front of everyone.
"Sir?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't bother repeating himself. "You heard me." And with that, he turned and slid into the SUV, leaving Chioma rooted to the spot with awkward, wide eyes.
A tense silence fell over the small gathering outside the bus. Every single eye turned to Chioma. Miriam raised a brow. Lanre smirked knowingly. Even Emeka paused mid-step, glancing between Chioma and the SUV.
Heart pounding, Chioma did the only thing she could think of — she ran after Kelvin like a lost rabbit, head ducked low, wishing the ground would just swallow her whole.
Inside the bus, as the last of the team boarded and the door shut with a hiss, the gossip began before the vehicle even left the compound.
"What do you think those two are up to?" Miriam asked, though it was clear she didn't expect an answer. She leaned forward from her window seat, eyes glinting with mischief.
Lanre, the sous chef, let out a low whistle. "Maybe a little office romance story."
Miriam snorted. "Romance? You think Kelvin does romance?"
"Nah," Lanre chuckled. "But you've seen the way he looks at her. That's not a boss-employee thing. And it didn't just start here. There's a little back story to it, you can tell."
Miriam nodded. "You're right. It's too personal. Way too personal."
Another voice from the back joined in. "Well, I'm jealous of her. The bus treats her like a queen," said Ngozi, one of the waitresses, earning a few scattered laughs.
Before the gossip could spiral out of control, Emeka's voice cut through.
"What are you two bickering about?" he asked, arching a brow as he turned from the front seat.
The women exchanged a look, instantly straightening. "Nothing, sir," they chorused.
"Good. Then let this drive be a silent one, please," Emeka added, not unkindly but firm enough to leave no room for argument.
"Okay, sir," they mumbled.
The bus rumbled to life, pulling out of the compound as conversations died down to quiet murmurs.
---
Meanwhile, inside Kelvin's SUV, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken words.
Chioma sat stiffly in the passenger seat, hands folded on her lap, eyes glued to the road ahead. Kelvin said nothing, his jaw working as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other occasionally tapping against his thigh in that restless way of his when his mind was running a mile a minute.
She snuck a glance at him but quickly looked away when he caught her gaze.
"Relax, Chioma. You act like I'm taking you to a firing squad," he said finally, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.
"You just… caught me off guard, sir," she replied.
"Good. You need to stay off guard. Lagos is a beast; you can't walk around here too comfortable."
She bit her lip to stop a smile from breaking through. No matter how sharp his words, there was always a strange warmth in them, a kind of care disguised as command.
---
At the branch, the atmosphere was tense.
The restaurant staff there wasn't expecting a battalion of well-dressed men and women to pull up in branded vehicles like a corporate invasion. As Kelvin and his team entered, the local workers whispered amongst themselves, throwing uneasy glances at the conference room doors as they swung shut behind the new arrivals.
Kelvin didn't waste time. The moment they entered, he went straight into commander mode.
"Emeka," he barked, looking over at his operations head. "I need you to check the system. Pull up account records, expenses, inventories — everything. Dive deep. I want to know every single thing that's been happening here, including what they think they've hidden. There's more than what meets the eye, and I can feel it."
"Consider it done, sir."
"Miriam," Kelvin continued, barely pausing. "Look into the waiters. Every single one. Their schedules, transactions, table assignments, guest complaints — find out who's clean and who isn't. Use whatever you have to. If anyone's been sloppy, you'll see it in the cracks."
"Yes, sir."
"Uche," Kelvin called to one of his most reliable floor managers. "I want you to have a real, honest talk with the branch management. No protocols, no smoothing things over. Get me the raw truth. Why has service here dropped? Why are we losing regulars? And if they lie, you'll know."
"Got it."
Then his gaze landed on Chioma, and something in his expression shifted. The sharpness dulled, just a little.
"Chioma," he said, voice lower now. "The kitchen is yours. Together with Sous Chef Lanre. I want you in every corner — check the menus, the stock room, prep areas, cold storage, even their waste logs. Get a feel for what's happening on the line and behind it. Taste the food if you have to. This kitchen is the heartbeat of this place, and if it's sick, we're not moving forward."
Chioma's throat went dry, but she squared her shoulders. "Yes, sir."
"Good," Kelvin nodded. "Everyone knows their jobs. Move."
And just like that, the room emptied, each person heading off in a different direction like soldiers on a battlefield. Kelvin lingered by the window for a moment, watching the restaurant floor through the glass as his team split up.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he saw Chioma adjusting her chef's coat as she and Lanre disappeared into the kitchen.
"Let's see what you're really made of, Chioma," he murmured to himself.
Because if there was one thing Kelvin valued, it was loyalty under fire. And before this day ended, he planned to find out who deserved to stay… and who doesn't.