Chapter 42

"Keep on spouting rubbish from your mouth. By the time you loose your job, you will then know what I am talking about," Daniel wheezed, as anger set in. "Everyone is aware that this particular restaurant belongs to the Smith's. Right Clinton?"

Clinton did not have anything to say, so he just nodded his head. Daniel brought out his phone to call his father.

"Do you mean you that you do not recognize this man?" Clinton asked, pointing at Daniel who was practically dialing a number. He finally chose to speak up.

"To be sincere, I have heard of that name Smith but I do not know him. Do not blame me but I am a new manager this restaurant..."

"You are such a big fool. If you are a new manager, could you not have asked who I am. I mean I could you not have given me the respect I deserve? Who gave you such audacity to even muster the courage to deny me in front of all these people? You are fired. Get lost," Daniel said in a rude manner. "Do not make me throw you out."

"Enough sir. I will not let you insult me," the manager said, raising his voice. "You have no right.."

"You have no right whatsoever to talk to me like this manager. Now get the hell out of here, you are fired."

"You can not get rid of me sir. You do not have any right to fire me from my job. You do not have that right," the manager challenged boldly, to Daniel and Clinton's surprise.

"What do you mean by I have no right? Have you forgotten what I said earlier??" Daniel asked hurriedly. "Tell me why."

"If you will lower your voice and let me explain, it would be much better for you. Raising your voice and throwing unnecessary tantrums won't add anything to you, instead you are ruining in your reputation and destroying your prestigious name."

"What do you mean? How dare you lecture me?" Daniel chimed in quickly. This was how much he hated corrections.

"This restaurant, same as the road you are claiming to be yours, has been sold. It has a new name owner now. You and your father no longer own this restaurant, neither do you own the road."

Daniel turned to look at Clinton.

Clinton was flabbergasted as well, by the words of the manager. How would Daniel's father sell a part of his property without letting his son know about it? This was absolutely unbelievable.

"You must be kidding. Why would my father do such a thing?" Daniel asked, after regaining his composure. "Be careful with your choice of words and dirty jokes. I do not have time for unnecessary jokes."

"I am only speaking the truth. Why would I joke with something as serious as this?" The manager asked, frowning.

Behind Daniel, looked unpleasantly crowded. Everyone gathered together, to watch the drama unfold. Some had began to take videos of them. Some made nasty comments, while some deliberately mocked Daniel.

Daniel did not know what to say or do at that moment but he knew that he needed to say something or at least do something. He was so ashamed of himself and he was also very angry. He had to talk to his dad but that would be later, for now he needed to manage and put things in place.

"Just apologize to them and leave," Clinton whispered to him.

"Over my dead body will I do such a thing," Daniel said heavily.

"Who has the hotel been sold to?" Daniel inquired from the manager.

"I can not tell you that. I do not think I am in the right position to disclose that to you but in order to fulfil all righteousness, I will reveal the owner to you," he said and paused.

"The current owner of this restaurant is Mr. Clinton," he finally revealed.

"No, I am not the owner of this restaurant. I never bought it neither did I buy any road," Clinton said, grinning.

"Are you Mr. Clinton, sir?" The manager asked.

"Yes, of course I am Clinton. I am the owner of the C. T. I company and I can not remember ever buying this restaurant. Infact who are you and how come you know all this, my name inclusive?" Clint asked.

"Your personal assistant gave me the job as a personal manager in this restaurant and sir, from all the research and restaurant's documents, you are now the new owner of this..."

"Shut the fvck up!" Daniel shouted. He pointed to the manager, "keep those traps that you call a mouth shut." 

Then he turned to Clinton and said, "you are unbelievable Clinton."

"I would have been really glad if this restaurant was truly mine but as you can see, I have no idea if what he is talking about," Clinton defended himself. "You of all people should know that I can not afford this restaurant. How can I possibly buy this restaurant and a road too? You have got to reason all this, I did not buy restaurant."

"You just wanted to watch me being insulted, right?" Daniel asked him with a broken voice. "You intend on ruining my life."

"What am I to gain from watching you get insulted?" Clinton asked in a steady voice. "You know what Dan, I do not have time for all this. Just sign the document, so that I can leave from here."

Daniel turned and still saw that some people were still lingering around. "Why are you all still standing here? The show is over already, get lost all of you."

"You have no right to order us around or tell us what to do and what not to do," a man screamed to him.

"You all heard what he just said, please live from here," Clinton voiced out.

The crowd began to disperse.

"Listen to me Dan. I am damn serious, I do not have any idea if what that man is saying. Call your father and ask him if he really sold..."

"Do not tell me what to do," Daniel sneered. He took the document and signed. He signed in all three spaces instead of two. Then he began to leave without saying a single word to anybody.

At this moment, everything began to make sense to Clinton. Only one person was behind this. It was not the manager's fault. It was no one's fault but it was definitely someone's hand work. No wonder she was in a hurry. No wonder she sounded so mischievous. This was Whitney's hand work and he was so certain about it

. "Tell me the truth, manager. Has this restaurant really been sold out? Or were you paid to do... .to perform all this drama."

"I swear on my life Mr. Clint, no one has paid me to do this. You are the new owner of this restaurant and road," the manager said gravely.

Despite the fact that every audience went back to their sitting position, they still continuously watched Clinton and the manager converse.

Clinton thought a wife, a company's shares, a company, a restaurant and a road. Wow! Why the hell would not he compete with Bill Gate or is it Mark Zuckerberg or maybe Mr. Smith or Jeff Besoz? Hahaha, certainly Dangote was nothing compared to him. Not forgetting Mrs. Philippa Philips, who was he, not to compete with her? All thanks to Whitney, life, money, wealth and popularity was beginning to make sense. All social media needed to carry his famous name around. From zero to hero. From zero to hero, from grass to Grace, from nothing to something, from nobody to somebody, from Clinton to Mr. Clinton.

Life had indeed become a bed of rose for Clinton. "Why are you still standing here, mr. Manager? Please go to your duty post. You must have clients."

"Yes sir," the manager said and turned to go.

"Wait, stop," Clinton said to the manager.

The manager stopped and turned to me. Clinton, "sir."

"What is your name?" Clinton asked in a friendly tone.

"I am Raphael Tyler," the manager said smoothly.

"Nice meeting you Mr. Raphael," Clinton said, stretching out his hand for a handshake. "Feel free to shake hands with me, Mr. Raphael. I do not mind at all."

Raphael the manager took the handshake, gratefully.

"Please Mr. Raphael, do me a favor," Clinton said abruptly.

"What favour sir? I am ready to grant you any favor," the manager said, suddenly stern.

"I want you not to charge anyone here for their meals."

"Sir?" The manager called thunderstruck and breathlessly.

"Do not worry. Record their debts, I will be charged for their debts and please serve them according to their heart desires," Clinton instructed carefully and strictly.

"Yes sir," the manager said, smiling with satisfaction.

As Clinton began to go, all the audience stood, giving him an outstanding clap. They also cheered him.

He gestured for them to stop with his hand. He reached his seat, picked up his documents and left heartily.

(At Clinton's house)

Clinton rang the door bell and wanted for Whitney to open the door for him. He rang the doorbell for so many times yet Whitney did not open the door. He brought out his cellphone and called her. He called her for more than two times before she answered.

"Hello Clint," she said in a drowsy voice, over the phone. "What's up?"

"I am feeling restless," Clinton said in a smooth tone.

"Did the meeting not go well?" Whitney asked him, looking a bit tensed.

"It is not about the meeting. It is about us."

"What happened?" Whitney asked nervously.

"I have been ringing the bell for the past thirty minutes, not knowing you are not in," Clinton said dismissively nodding."

"Oh dear. I am at home. I am sorry I did not hear the bell. I was listening to music with my headset. Do not be angry, I am on my way to the door," she said and stood on her feet immediately.

She was wearing only an under pant and bra, so she quickly put on her pair of joggers before rushing out of her room, straight to the entrance.

She peeped through the hole to confirm that it was her husband, Clinton. She opened the door for him, after being certain that it was really him.

"Hi husband," she said in the cutest way ever. She leaned against the door to welcome him. "I am sorry for leaving you outside the house for such a very long time," she apologized as she watched him walk in with a gloomy expression on his face.

"Enough of your apologies Whitney. Do not worry, I am not angry at you, neither did I ask you for any form of apology. You are my wife and you have every right to lock me out, as long as you want."

"Get out," Whitney snarled. Her eyes widened and threatening. "Leave. I said you should leave."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down Whitney, I did not mean it like th.."

"I said you should get out," Whitney screamed again, not taking a glance at him.

"Okay fine, I'm leaving," he said, as he turned to go.

"Are you serious?" Whitney bellowed. "You will take orders from Other people when it concerns your properties?"

Clinton turned to her and said, "not just from anybody, it is from you alone." He said with compassion.

Whitney's charming eyes stared at him.

Clinton closed the door. He turned to Whitney, she was still staring at him. "What I am trying to say is that you are my everything. You are my wife and my only family, my only friend, my best and closest friend and my life partner for now. So in as much as I own this house, you too own this house. So my dear Whitney, if you ask me to leave the house, I will happily do it, all for you."

Whitney pouted. "Ouch," she exclaimed, gripping her chest with her right hand. "It hurts me so much whenever the thought of losing you comes to my mind but it hurts me much more, for you to evet think of leaving. We are both each other's family, friend, best friend, closest friends and partners and to be sincere with you now, no one will ever be able to take your place in my life."

Clinton smiled at. "Not even your ex husband?" He asked tauntingly.

Whitney gave him a dread look. "I may not love you more than Daniel but I trust and I prefer you to Daniel. Daniel was in my life before but now he has been replaced by now. You are my everything."

"Including your hear beat? Clinton asked.

"Oh come on Clint," Whitney said, looking so shy. "You and I have not settled down yet are here. We both are both standing at the door."

She collected his documents and held his hand, "let's go in. You need to shower and change your clothes. You look very exhausted."

The two of them, both walked to the sitting room.

Clinton freely slumped on the coach. "I had a pretty exhausting day," he spoke.

"Why? What happened? I remember you saying to me that you were feeling restless earlier on, why?" She asked, looking at him with her wondering eyes.

"Why did you not tell me that you had also bought their Hangar's private restaurant?" Clint asked Whitney.

On hearing his question, her face turned so pale but the paleness had disappeared suddenly, it was now replaced with surprise.

"Answer me Whitney, did you buy the Smith's biggest restaurant?"

Whitney looked at him suddenly. "Hangar's private restaurant? Where the hell will I get such money from?"

"Wait a minute, are you really trying to tell me that you did not buy the restaurant?"

"Why are you asking me all this stupid questions, if something happened, why not share it with me, so that we can both join our heads together and figure it out," Whitney said, sounding a bit pissed.

"Okay. Well actually I and Daniel went for lunch at the restaurant. Some little things led us to finding out more about the restaurant. I was so shocked to find out that the restaurant had been sold to another person and when we inquired about who the new owner was, my name suddenly got entangled in all of this mess." He paused.

 "Go on, why did you stop?" She said to him.

"The manager told us that it was my personal assistant that bought the restaurant but I am certain that it can not be her, she does not have such amount of money. Where the fuck would she get such money from? I have no fucking idea."

"Who is extremely kind to have bought such expensive thing for you? Well Clinton, I do not expect you to think that I have such money to buy such expensive the things. I am living on your money but now, I am wrerched."