I never thought I would be the kind of guy to fall for an office nemesis. Yet there she was, Kenda.
Smart, beautiful, and assertive in a way that made the whole office either respect her or resent her. She was in the finance department. She wore official day suits perfectly made by a famous Luo tailor in Nairobi. Always classy, her skirts revealed just enough of her alluring thighs while still covering what was necessary.
Me? I pretended to resent her. I was the IT and networks manager, and she was the sharp-tongued operations lead. We clashed over everything: slow networks, office memos, even the brand of coffee the company bought. My ego was always at its peak, and I never wanted to feel like I was being ordered around.
But deep down, I knew the truth. I was not fighting her because I hated her. I was fighting her because I could not admit how much I wanted her. I wanted every part of her to be mine, just as I wanted to give myself to her.
Then there’s this Monday morning, Kenda walked into the office late. Not just a few minutes late, but dangerously late. She came in at 10:28 a.m., a time that completely defied the definition of her nine to five job. And of course, our biometric clock in system had already recorded it. The CCTV cameras too.
She was doomed because we had an HR manager who was hardworking in one thing only, making sure the bosses loved her. She issued show cause letters to employees at the slightest chance.
Except this time, Kenda was not doomed.
Because I made a choice.
With my administrator access, I slipped into the system, wiped her biometric record for that day, and trimmed the CCTV footage clean. When HR came sniffing, she found nothing but irregularities and messed-up records that could not be relied on. I shrugged and said, “Our systems are outdated. We need an upgrade.” And she believed me.
My work at the company was always flawless, and nobody could ever suspect any mischief. I was not one to brag, but my track record and the number of employee of the month awards I had received were proof enough.
Kenda had no idea what I had done, at least not then. I could already see her unsettled, her face showing worry. She saw HR leave my desk after confirming that morning’s attendance, and her eyes immediately fixed on me, waiting for the dreaded statement, “Kenda, to my office.” But it never came.
Instead, I simply smiled at her and returned to my work as if nothing had happened.
It was later that afternoon in the office kitchen when the moment came. We both stood waiting for the microwave. Her food went in first, and as we waited, she asked if there was something I had done. I brushed off the question with a playful response: “Do not worry, there was no termination happening today. You still have more days to beef with me.”
Then suddenly, she turned to me, not with her usual fire, but with eyes heavy and broken, filled with an urge to share something deeper.
“My boyfriend,” she began, her voice trembling. “I caught him. With my best friend. On our bed.” She said that with some tear soaked eyes
Her words landed like a blow.
She went on to tell me how she had packed up, moved out of their place in 87 Waiyaki Way, and started over in Utawala, all alone. She admitted she had noticed the closeness between her friend and her boyfriend but had chosen to ignore the red flags, hence her lateness. I silently wondered how such signs could go unnoticed by someone as bright as her, but then again, even the best of us sometimes ignore what we do not want to see.
And then she surprised me by thanking me. Something that I never imagine could happen given the nature of our office relationship beef. She thanked me for saving her from HR’s wrath.
“I do not even know what or why you did it,” she said softly. “We were enemies, remember?”
I swallowed hard. The truth clawed its way out before I could stop it.
“Because deep down, I have always had feelings for you,” I admitted. “I just fought them so hard that they came out as indifference. But they are there, Kenda. They have always been there, waiting for the right time to erupt.”
For a moment, silence fell between us, heavy and charged. Our eyes locked, and I could feel my heart pounding. The tension hung thick in the air, until it was broken by the microwave’s loud beep.
Her food was ready.
She lifted her container, then leaned close, her lips brushing my ear, her voice a whisper only I could hear.
“You are lucky,” she said with a smile. “A chance to prove yourself just opened up.”
And just like that, she was gone, walking out to join the other ladies at the dining table. I stood there, staring after her, my food still cold in the microwave.
As she walked away, her perfume lingered in the air, a sweet and intoxicating scent that clashed with her otherwise heavy mood. My eyes followed her with me staring at her behind, admiring the rhythm of her walk and the way she carried herself with grace.
I finally placed my food back into the microwave and smiled to myself.
Could I have just landed the white whale?
I had not even told her that I too also lived in Utawala. Already, I could see it in my mind: the two of us catching the same bus home, talking, laughing, and stealing glances at each other. My fantasies began to build rapidly in my head.
In the office, I could whitelist movie sites just for her, increase her internet speed while everyone else complained, and make sure those cheeky “view once” pictures she might send would load instantly without buffering.
I was convinced that the love story of Romeo and Juliet would be nothing in comparison to what we could have.
I know I could be dreaming but…
This…
This could be the beginning of our own epic work love story…
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