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Chapter Two:A Journey Through Covert Communications and Unexpected Encounters

By Ameen younisPublished 4 months ago 7 min read

I kept an eye on the issue throughout the day until the allotted hour. I raced down the elevator as soon as I spotted her, thinking what to say if I ran into her. Will she confess right now, or will we have to go to the department?

I approached her, and for the first time, I realized what the steady glance from a distance meant. Seriously! As I saw her peaceful grin and the passionate, longing glance that drove me insane, glowing with honey-colored eyes in the sunset light, it seemed like I was changing my automobile for the first time, not understanding its efficacy.

I felt like the mastermind behind a terrorist plot, rather than a toddler joyfully playing a game in a glass exhibit! I stood silently behind her, wanting to talk to her but not knowing what to say. Why am I not Arabic, and why is she staring at me? My phone rang just as I was considering, as fate chose to toy with me. She turned and blushed as she stared at me.

I felt like I wanted to be married at the time, so why was I arranging a honeymoon in Greece? She remained stunned for a few seconds, unsure of how to react, adjusting her scarf that I always believed was just a long scarf, but she changed my view

"Do I need to turn on the air conditioner?" Our trip continues... "All right, shall I go on?"

I attempted to keep my smile from showing, focusing on it with concentration and eagerness. My hands were behind my back, and I raised my head to appear scary. Unfortunately, the height disparity made me want to pat her and console her from the bewilderment she was experiencing. But she surprised me when she took a deep breath, looked at me again, raising her head confidently, and asked:

"How much are you selling it for?"

I couldn't stop myself from smiling. Bold despite her calm demeanor and the way she dressed, I asked her, "Is this style popular among Arabs at this level?"

She returned her bold glance to me after reflexively looking at the automobile. "If you want to sell it, I want to know the price," she responded with the same resolve. When it comes to BMW, you must remember that there is always something newer and better... But I'm curious: do you intend to sell it?

I was taken aback by her demeanor and couldn't believe I was chatting to a girl about vehicle models she fantasizes about, hoping to own her first genuine automobile. "Since you understand cars and know the latest and best BMW models and are ready to buy," I kept attempting to drive the subject in a humorous manner. Why don't you get one and stop admiring my car every day?"

I surprised her, knowing what I was doing but wanting to see her reaction. I defeated her steadiness, wondering what she would do. In the end, I stood before her defeated, not knowing how to respond, with a mix of shock and momentary confusion. However, she didn't give in to them and said with a smile:

"When we set our sights on something, we must aim high." However, we cannot make a giant jump to get there. We select the proper ladder, which will lead us step by step upward. For me, the first step will be to get a black old BMW 36E or a new one in order to attain the 6M. "Do you intend to sell it?"

She stared at me astounded, astounded by her manner of thinking and her words, astounded that I was talking automobile models with a girl about her hopes of owning her first car. I kept teasing her in order to get her to talk about her ideal automobile. She admired it, and I wasn't sure how I was meant to reply. She took me by surprise and asked:

"Do you work for the company here?"

I could tell my query was bothering her, so she answered stiffly, "If you sell the car, I'll be one of the first people to buy it." I'm not standing here to get to know you until you give me permission. Anyway, whatever you decide."

She stepped away from me, taking steps away from me, and all of my steadiness, extra confidence, and pride fled. "So, how will you know if I decide to sell it?" I questioned, swiftly catching up with her.

With trust in her voice, she said, "I check every day for any sale advertisement, and if there is one, I wish you success with it, with your permission."

I'm a manager, and I'm well-known. A mature man in his thirties, self-assured, of course. Without a doubt, nothing occupies my attention. Why are you staring at me so intently? Do you still not believe me? I'm serious, but she's the one who has managed to turn me into a liar in areas where I feel confident. She kept me smiling the whole time, and the scene replays in my head, not annoyingly, but enough that I want to relive it every now and then to experience her passion. She made me fall in love with my automobile, which I brought and carefully selected for its authenticity.

The following day was a holiday, and I spent the whole day worrying about her position within the firm. Why doesn't she see much inside, and what would her reaction be if she discovered I knew she admires my automobile every day?

On the second day, I resolved to inquire about her and locate her office when I visited the firm. But fate, or more accurately, luck, was not on my side. It was at this time that I discovered what her work was.The following day was a holiday, and I spent the whole day worrying about her position within the firm. Why doesn't she see much inside, and what would her reaction be if she discovered I knew she admires my automobile every day?

Having been fired. There was a lot of noise in the firm at first, and I had no idea what was going on or why there was so much disturbance. I noticed numerous employees congregate, quitting their job, and supervisors and the HR staff worried and confused.

Before attending the meeting, I questioned the general manager's secretary if Salasabil, whom I didn't know who she was, was meant to be one of our company's trainees in the HR department. She was denied employment in the department because she refused to comply with one of the general manager's requirements. What is the situation, and what is the issue?

The director's office door unexpectedly opened before she could respond. I looked around, astonished to see her emerge. Her eyes communicated volumes, and although I don't understand eye language, I noticed a begging expression in her gaze. I noticed pent-up exhaustion and a glimmer of tears in her worn, dull eyes. When I glanced into her eyes for the first time since two days ago, I saw a spark. I felt smothered and had no idea what was going on. Seconds flew by like they were days. Everyone gazed at her with a mixture of sympathy and grief, while some of those standing smiled triumphantly with a trace of bitterness.

She went away from me, a file and her bag in her hand. Before she went, she didn't glance at anybody but me. "Who is she?" I inquired of the secretary.

"Her name is Salasabil, Mr. Tarek. "The one the director would not hire."

The director summoned the secretary and the other managers to a meeting. I needed to be present, but I couldn't help myself and went to visit her. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to catch up to her, so I hoped she would be stopped for a moment until I arrived. This time, I was grateful to my automobile for completing this objective.

When she saw me standing in front of the car, she smiled, but her smile rapidly turned to sorrow and grief as she concentrated on what was in front of her. Her farewell to the automobile, gripping her scarf firmly with quivering hands, the hand holding the file pushing on it with the same trembling, her eyes refusing tears. She moaned and turned around to go when she noticed me in front of her.

*********To be continued***********


About the Creator

Ameen younis

Versatile writer weaving magic and mystery, exploring life's nuances. Through evocative language, I aim to leave a contemplative mark by crafting resonant literary experiences.

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