Ana's POV

"I hate coming down here," Glory speaks up as we descend the stairs to the factory area.

"Yeah," I respond, swerving my head backward to bestow her a knowing glimpse. "Because you are lazy."

"I am not!" She clamors in defense of my statement.

"Believe it or not," I shrug, snorting.

"You are the lazy one," she announces in a stern glare.

"You don't see me denying it," I laugh, my bare shoulders shaking in laughter as I'm donning a white polka dot blue background off-the-shoulder blouse and black Aphrodite pants, my blue heels clicking on the stairs.

"You better not," she mumbles, following closely behind.

"Don't worry I wouldn't," I voice as we approach the noisy and busy area of the factory. "But right now I think you are in competition with me on that one."

"Ah," she gasps and pauses as we reach. "That's a lie."

"We'll settle that dispute another time," I utter close to her as my eyes observe the wide expanse. Able-bodied bare-chested men moving here and there, lab scientists in the corner with their lab coats carrying out a few experiments, the sounds of machines and engines, and most of all the distinct air that feels the area.

Some people like Glory who clamps her nose at the scent of the place might find it disgusting but I for one love the mixture of smoke, the smell of raw materials, grease, and of course sweat caused by the heat emitted from the machines.

The ceiling fans rotating above do nothing to help as it is set to a slow rotation so as not to trigger a fire and at the same time reduce the risk of suffocation.

"The fact you enjoy this environment still makes me wonder how weird you can be," Glory grunts, her voice coming out funny thus her nose is held closed by her thumb and forefinger.

"It's not weird," I beam, peering at her. "It just proves I'm cut out for this."

"You sure it won't affect the baby?" She investigates eying my stomach. "I mean if it can make me want to puke then what about a little being?"

"Stop being so dramatic," I titer walking forward into the heart of the area. "The baby is fine."

"How's it going, guys?" I call over the noise, a grin on my face. It's Monday and we are beginning production of our first cosmetic product, 'lipstick. I'm down here to supervise the process and make sure it goes well.

"Hello, boss."
"We missed you, boss," these are the responses I can hear in return amidst nods and waves.

"The queen decided to step down from her castle at last," John utters, ambling my way, his wide expanse of chest bare and sweating.

"Always naked I see," I muse and giggle as he offers to hug me. "Hell no, go for Glory."

"Hey babe," he gleams, heeding my order, and strides to her location, arms wide for an embrace "Miss me already?"

"Yes but go away," she orders but he doesn't listen as afterward I hear her screaming and struggling to get free.

I leave them be and walk to my employees around the furnace, made up of three guys and a lady. The men are shirtless and the female wearing a sports bra, each drenched in fluid as they examine the product cooking within.

"What's in there?" I ask, though having an inkling but want to confirm.

"That's the wax," Beatrice the lady informs, her legs wide, arms folded and vision focused as she doesn't spare me a glance.

"Okay," I affirm. "Is it filled to the brim?"

"No," one of the males named Dike replies. "This is for testing, so we don't want to waste materials in case it comes out wrong."

"That's good," I smile and pat Beatrice on the shoulder. "Keep it up."

"I will boss," she nods, lending me a smile before her gaze shifts back to the task at hand, her dedication and zeal admirable which is why I put her in charge of that department.

"Hey wait up," Glory rushes catching up with me as I stroll to where the mineral oil is being measured.

"Finished with your man?" I jeer, and she scowls.

"That idiot has left me reeking of man sweat," she shivers. "I love him to death but he's crazy."

"Tomato, Tomatoe," I assert as we arrive at the measuring faculty, shutting her up.

"This is mineral oil right?" I interview, peeping at the liquid and its weird color.

"Yes ma," Chuka confirms.

"I told you we should use vegetable oil, it will help the taste," Glory argues.

"This is what we could find in large quantity at the last minute," I state, an eyebrow raised. "You said that."

"Yeah, but we could have waited," she denotes.

"And go back on schedule?" I poll my orbs fixated on her. "Nope," I pronounce and go back to watch as the oil and emollient (shea butter) is being measured into little containers and moved to another area where it will be mixed with the wax.

The oil is to help keep the wax soft enough to be spread easily and shea butter to increase the soothing and moisturizing quality of the lipstick to prevent dry lips.

We move from there and shift to the lab area where the mineral pigments of different colors are being worked on to be put on the first samples to be made.

Nodding at them I proceed to where the fragrances are being selected. "I suggest, strawberry, chocolate, and any other simple ones."

"I agree," Glory speaks. "Also I hope the preservative and antioxidants are available?"

"Yes ma," Elvis one of the scientists declares. "The end product will be ready in a few hours."

"Alright my people. Send for me when everything is set," I notify and walk to the exit with Glory following.

****

Basking in my air-conditioned office space, I let out a breath after the tiring day I've had. It turns out we should use olive oil instead of mineral oil to help in certain aspects of the product.

Thereby delaying the release till next week after the olive oil is delivered by tomorrow to begin another round of production.

It's almost time to close for the day and I'm aiming to relax a bit before the drive home and wonder about how my life got so turbulent.

"Ike is here," Glory proclaims as she shoves the door open.

"Okay," I retort, gaping at her suspiciously as I get that isn't all from her mood. "Why nervous?"

"He came with Emily," she utters and I still, now understanding the reason for her expression while feeling a sense of jealousy gnawing at my heart.

"Send them in," I instruct, adjusting my outlook to mask the hurt as she nods.

Not up to a minute later Ike strides in majestically, looking as hotness itself in a clingy all-white transparent t-shirt and red and green striped trousers that outline his athletic legs, the muscles on his arm prominent under his exposed light brown skin.

"Eh hem," Emily declares her presence as she stands beside him in an insanely short purple dress that leaves her long thin fair legs on display. The grey orbs on her face directing a hard stare in my path.

"Please sit," I advise, motioning to the vacant chairs in my office.

"Thank you," Ike beams and lowers himself into one of them.

"I'd rather stand," Emily mumbles, making a revolted face at the environment.

"Why?" I question, swallowing the bitterness in my throat at her behavior.

"I won't be long," she communicates, eying me.

"Emily," Ike summons in a warning tone.

"Don't Emily me," she scoffs. "I'm only here to apologize not have a chit-chat."

"Then do it," Ike grits in distinct irritation, as I notice his jaw clenching.

"I'm sorry about the other day Anastasia," she mutters, knowing again how I hate that name because it isn't mine in the first place.

"Yeah, there I said it, can we go?" She probes, not waiting to know if I accept it or not.

"Emily!" Ike shouts, an underlying meaning in the look he channels at her existence.

"Fine!" She whines. "I'm sorry for the things I said and for bestowing your friend a slap."

"It's okay," I speak, struggling to hold in my annoyance.

"Now that's settled," she turns to Ike. "Can we go?"

"You can go," he conveys, producing a key from his pocket.

"What do you mean by that Daniel?" She asks, coming off as confused and what appears to be anger.

"Here's the key, you can drive yourself to my house and instruct the driver to come to pick me," he murmurs handing it to her.

"I'm not your servant!" She contests in a loud tone.

"What does this have to do with what I'm telling?" Ike implores and I gape at her in shock.

"Everything!" She yells. "I won't run errands for you while you sit back here as if you own the place."

"I need to discuss some affairs with Ana here, is that a problem?" He queries while my stare moves between the two of them as if watching a drama series.

"Yeah, stay back with the woman who came into our happy relationship and destroyed our peace," she mocks, tromping her 6inch heel on the marble.

"We were never happy Emily," Ike throws at her.

"I hate you!" She screeches, her body vibrating in rage.

"I know you do," he mocks. "Are you driving the car or not?"

"I'd rather trek to China than do as you say," she announces.

"Suit yourself then," he mutters, seeming unbothered at her unnecessary antics.

"I will!" She screams and with one last deadly stare in my location stomps to the door, almost removing it from its hinges as she drags it open and slams it at her retreating figure.

"What are you still doing here?" I raise a question at Ike who places his head in his palms in exhaustion.

"I don't understand," He counters, lifting his face to peer at me, his deep black eyes containing sadness that I pretend not to notice.

"You should follow her," I urge, not seeing the motive why he's still present.

"Didn't you just witness what happened?" He inquires, perplexed by my words.

"I did, but I suggest you go," I tell, my mind having a war with my lips as it's screaming at me to let him stay.

"There's no way I'm going to be in the same car with that woman at this point," he states.

"The same woman you speak of is your fiancee," I reinstate in case he appears to have forgotten though I know that's not possible.

"Yeah so?" He polls, gawking at me like I've grown three heads.

"So she deserves some respect!" I exclaim. "She's the main woman in your life."

"You are the main woman in my life," he opposes, leaning forward to stretch his hand my way.

"No Ike, I am the side chick," I mumble, a blade slashing at my heart as I say this. "The one who was stupid enough to get knocked up."

"Fuck it, Ana, I never said so. How many times do you want me to tell you I want this? That this is a miracle? How many times?" He interrogates, withdrawing his palm to grimace at me.

"It doesn't matter," I sniff. "To the world she owns you. Therefore she deserves an ounce of respect."

"A woman who sleeps around while engaged doesn't deserve any of that," he claims.

"And you are allowed to sleep around but not her?" I implore, a brow raised in query.

"I, I don't mean it that way," he stammers as a result of my fierce expression.

"Way to be a hypocrite Ike, Bravo," I taunt in a sinister smirk, knowing I have him hooked.

"I don't know what you are implying," he defends in confusion.

"Yeah," I smile folding my arms and inspecting his reaction. "You don't."

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