The drive back from the Lagos branch was quiet, but it wasn't a comfortable quiet. It was the kind laced with unspoken things, the air inside the car charged with the weight of everything Kelvin hadn't said at the restaurant and everything I hadn't asked.
When we got to the apartment building, Kelvin didn't drop me off and leave as I half-expected. Instead, he killed the engine, grabbed his phone from the dashboard, and stepped out of the car like he had business to settle. I followed because I didn't know what else to do.
Inside the apartment, he didn't take off his shoes or reach for a drink like someone trying to wind down. He paced. Phone in hand. That familiar furrow between his brows deepening.
Then without preamble, he dialed.
"Emeka," his voice was sharp, businesslike, no room for casual pleasantries. "Get everyone together. I mean everyone. All the Owerri branch staff that came down with us. Conference room by eight. No excuses."
A beat.
"I don't care if they just got back or haven't eaten. Eight sharp."
He hung up without waiting for a reply.
I watched him, arms folded loosely, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You're calling a meeting now?"
Kelvin's gaze cut to me, unreadable as always. "You saw what I saw, Chioma. That place is a mess. Staff complacent. No leadership. No urgency. If we don't shake things up tonight, we'll lose tomorrow before it starts."
I nodded, not because I had to, but because he wasn't wrong. The restaurant we'd visited earlier—the Lagos branch of the DC brand that had practically become a second home to me in Owerri—was a shadow of what it should be. The kitchen staff were disorganized, the service sluggish, and the management absent when things went south. It made my stomach knot.
Kelvin checked his watch. "You've got thirty minutes. Get yourself together."
Before I could ask for what, he added, "You'll be in that meeting too. Don't be late."
Then he walked off toward his room, leaving me standing there with a mix of nerves and an undeniable spark of something else… something I wasn't ready to name.
---
Scene: The Emergency Meeting
By the time I got to the conference room downstairs, most of the team was already there—faces I recognized from Owerri, looking tired and wary, none of them quite sure what was coming.
Kelvin strode in a minute later, his presence instantly filling the room. The murmurs died, chairs shifted, backs straightened.
Without sitting, without even greeting, he spoke.
"I won't waste your time," he began, his voice low but cutting through the room like a knife. "We didn't come all the way to Lagos to play house. What I saw today was disgraceful. And I mean that."
Silence. Even Emeka looked tense.
Kelvin's gaze swept across the room, lingering on faces, daring anyone to meet his stare. "The reason this branch is crawling while Owerri thrives? Complacency. Poor leadership. People comfortable with mediocrity because no one's been man enough to call it out."
A pause. He let the words settle, heavy and undeniable.
"Tomorrow, we're going back there. But not like today. Tomorrow, we're taking over."
Somebody shifted in their seat.
Kelvin continued, "From first light, we'll be running that branch like it should've been run months ago. New systems. New responsibilities. And anybody who can't handle that can pack their shit and head home."
There was a low murmur then. Uneasy.
Kelvin gestured to Emeka. "You'll handle front house. Customer service. Reservations. Host stand. I want your eyes everywhere."
Then his gaze moved to me. "Chioma, you're taking the kitchen."
A sharp breath escaped my lips before I could stop it. Heads turned. A few surprised looks. A few not-so-friendly ones too.
Kelvin didn't blink. "Full control. Menu, staff, inventory. Anything you need, you come to me. I want results, not excuses. And I want them fast."
My pulse thudded, but I lifted my chin. "Understood."
"Good."
He rattled off more assignments, handing different parts of the operation to people he trusted, making it clear that the chain of command started and ended with him.
When it was done, he straightened. "Meeting adjourned. Get some rest. Tomorrow's war."
Everyone filed out in silence. No one dared speak until they were out of earshot.
---
Scene: After the Meeting — Kelvin & Chioma
I waited a beat after the others left, unsure why I didn't follow.
Kelvin stayed behind too, leaning over the conference table, knuckles resting against the polished wood, lost in thought.
"You sure about this?" I asked, finally breaking the quiet.
He glanced up, those sharp eyes softening by a fraction. "No."
I blinked.
"But it has to be done," he added. "And I'd rather gamble on people I've seen in the trenches than the half-dead team over there."
Another pause. Then his gaze fixed on me, something unreadable flickering in those eyes. "You can handle this, Chioma."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. A challenge.
I squared my shoulders. "I will."
A slow nod. He straightened, walked toward me until there was barely space between us.
"Look," his voice dropped lower, almost a murmur. "I didn't assign you that kitchen to make a point. I did it because you're the only one I trust to whip it into shape. Not because of anything else."
I swallowed. The heat between us felt different now — edged with the gravity of what tomorrow could bring.
"I get it," I said quietly.
"Good." A beat. Then, almost a smirk. "But don't think I'll go easy on you."
"Wouldn't expect you to."
He studied me for a moment longer, something unspoken in the air, before stepping back. "Get some rest. You'll need it."
Then he turned, walking out of the room without waiting for a reply.
And this time, I didn't follow.
I stood there a little while longer, letting my heart slow down, knowing full well that tomorrow wasn't just going to be about work.
It never was with Kelvin.