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All the good ones are taken

Salame isn't what one would call a conventional beauty. In fact, she doesn't believe she fits into any definition of beauty. With her short stature, dark complexion, and melancholic disposition, she certainly doesn't stand out. To make matters worse, her parents bestowed upon her the name Salame Dan Allah fa, what were they thinking. Duk sunan duniyan nan fa,they could have just called her salma, easy peasy everyone happy, but no. she must be called Salame like her namesake her grandmother kaka salame, yuck! The only good thing she got from kaka salame aside from the fact that she give birth to her loving mother. Was her long hair, every thing else was just yucky. Despite her perceived shortcomings, Salame never allows them to hinder her ambitions. In fact, she sets her standards higher than the towering heights of Mount Everest. Dan kana da kudi da kyau doesn't mean you are enough for Salame. She has a specific set of criteria in mind: he must be wealthy, have a light complexion, an athletic physique, possess a romantic and humorous nature, and the list goes on. Salame is dead serious about finding a partner who checks all the boxes, Relidiculous boxes. ____________________________________________ Salame, Salma, or Salami, call her what you will, is an incredibly challenging woman to encounter. With her melancholic disposition, sassy attitude, and utter disregard for authority, she proves to be quite the handful. Salame stands as a symbol of defiance, a woman who refuses to settle for anything less than extraordinary. However, beneath her exterior, Salame conceals the uncertainty and desires that reside within every human soul. Like anyone else, she yearns to be seen, accepted, and loved for who she truly is. Will her search for the perfect guy be a mere dream, destined to remain unfulfilled like the aspirations of many others? Or lead her to the perfect guy, or will she learns to redefine her definition of perfection, one thing remains certain: her pursuit of love will be a transformative odyssey, where she discovers not only the intricacies of her own heart but also the profound nature of human connection. After all, it isn't possible to find that kind of person in three weeks, which is exactly the amount of time she has been given.

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4

She had a distinct expression on her face that seemed to warn others not to approach her as she walked into the store. Her coworkers were familiar with this look and knew better than to engage with her when she appeared that way. Salame was often in a moody state, but there were instances when her mood seemed particularly heightened, and she would direct her anger towards anyone who happened to be in her path.

Her colleagues referred to these episodes as "mini eclipses," a playful nod to her short stature.

"Come quickly," Vivian half-dragged Salame, "and please, wipe that expression off your face. Nobody died." She gestured as if cleaning near Salame's face.

Vivian was the type of person who would approach you even if you were an erupting volcano.

"Hgrrr!, Vivian, I really am not in the mood, dan Allah," Salame deadpanned, visibly annoyed.

"Come and see the new guy," she persisted, brushing off Salame's protest.

Ogling cute guys was usually their thing, but today Salame had bigger matters to attend to. However, Vivian was determined, refusing to accept "no" for an answer.

"Snap out of it," she snapped her fingers in Salame's face. "You really need to see this one."

"Okay, okay," Salame surrendered, giving in to Vivian's persistence. She knew that Vivian wouldn't stop, and deep down, she admitted that she would have done the same thing in Vivian's shoes. Despite her annoyance, Salame couldn't resist the curiosity of seeing who Vivian was so excited about.

"Trust me, this one is the king of all the Arabs " Vivian exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement. Her words sparked Salame's curiosity even more, and she wondered what could possibly make this new guy so special. With a mix of anticipation and skepticism, Salame finally gave in and agreed to go see what all the fuss was about.

"Where is he?" Salame asked, her voice filled with anticipation.

"He's in the break room," Vivian answered, pointing towards the area.

Salame followed Vivian's gaze to the break room, she couldn't see any new face in there.

Without wasting any more time, Vivian reached out and grabbed Salame's arm, leading her towards the room. She was a little excited to see the new guy and couldn't resist the urge to satisfy her curiosity.

He had his back turned to them, engaged in a conversation with Bello. "Let me introduce you to Salame, Mr. Nabeel." Vivian interrupt,

Salame felt a rush of color to her face, a common reaction she had whenever someone introduced her as "Salame." Thankfully, her melanin-rich skin hid any visible signs of embarrassment.

"It's Salma, actually," she started to correct, but before she could finish, Nabeel 's familiar face cut her off. A growing sense of confusion washed over her. What in the Cosmo chaotic universe was he doing here? Usually she Never meet the guys she did rashin mutunci to again, that's the beauty of it.

"Actually, we know each other," Nabeel smiled at Vivian, seemingly ignoring the look Salame was giving him.

"How is your phone, Miss Salma? Should i pull out my wallet ?" Nabeel joked, his smile still present.

Salame couldn't help but inwardly raise an eyebrow, questioning the unusual grin he wore. It wouldn't be Salame if she didn't find something to be annoyed about,

She grinned back at him, purposefully ignoring his question, and walked away without another word.

Just great, now she has to avoid him all day too. She was already stressed about having to avoid Mr. Kunle, whom she knew was waiting for her. Not only did she refuse to come to work, but she also declined his calls and Sani, who she knew already had a message from Mr. Kunle for her.

"Salame!" A voice that seemed far away only because she was deep in her thoughts, interrupted, stopping her in her tracks. "Mr. Kunle wants to see you in his office ASAP," he stated, oblivious to her plight.

"Can't you come up with a better way to convey these messages, little Mr. Messenger?" she spat. "Every time the manager wants to see you ASAP," she mimicked his voice, "it's getting old, mana haba."

"Bani na kar zomon ba rataya aka bani," he said, raising his hands in surrender.

"Kuma ka ansa," she wasn't ready to back down. "Go and tell him to swim to China and stay there," she added storming off. Sani knew she only said that because she knew he was not going to tell the manager.

He shrugged, knowing her well enough not to take everything she said seriously. She was always doing and saying things that she would later regret. "Why don't you tell him that yourself?" he shouted after her.

She stopped and turned around, considering the idea. Maybe she would actually do just that, she thought, heading towards the manager's office. Somebody needed to set things straight with him.

"He's always meddling in people's business, telling them what to do and acting as if he owns the place," she muttered under her breath.

Just because he was the manager, it didn't mean she had to answer to him. Her anger fueled her determination. In her mind, she had rehearsed every word, every sentence she was going to say to him. She could even visualize his reaction - he was going to hear it all today. He had picked the wrong day to push her buttons. Oh, he was going to be left speechless, she thought as she came to a halt in front of his office. Clenching her hands into tight fists, she knocked on the door.

"Come in," his voice shattered her confidence, chipping away at the determination she had walked in with.It was all a charade after all; she needed the job more than she was letting on.