Dedicated to qu33n_leemah

CHAPTER FIVE

THERE were different synonyms for crazy; insane, demented, deranged, zany, loco, out of control, eccentric, lunatic etc, but none I fear came close to describing this particular crazy situation nor the smug looking amber-eyed stranger grinning down at me.
   
He was Aman, the billionaire heir? How many shades of crazy was that? I frowned at the absurdity of the whole situation.

He might be lying for all you know Reima, just think, what do you know about this man apart from-

He has the keys to the office. I watched confused as he opened the door and went in, leaving the door slightly ajar, for me I guess. I followed him in.

"What did you just call yourself?" I asked as soon as I was in.

The office was painted ash, and it had only one floor-to-ceiling window, which faced the main road. On the brown desk sat a laptop, a file lying open next to an open notebook and a stack of folders with different colors arranged discordantly; a ball-pen laid on the open file. In a corner, the air conditioner stood, and there was a swivel chair in the middle of the office. He was sitting on the swivel chair behind the big mahogany desk.

"Aman," he answered scribbling something on the notebook.

"How can you be Aman?" I wasn't convinced. I mean who would be? He is Aman, how can he be?

"Why can't I be?" He still wasn't looking at me.

"How can you be when you just asked me to convince him, you, whatever?"

"You need a job and I need a reason to stay. Find me a reason and you have a job. I thought my request was simple?"

"How is that simple? How is any of this simple?" I shrieked. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't even know I was supposed to be playing.

He dropped the pen and looked squarely at me. "Do you want a job or not?"

I frowned realising he had me trapped.

"Yes?"

I nodded reluctantly.

"Then consider this your job interview,"

"But-

"No buts, Reima," he interrupted holding my gaze for the first time since we walked inside. 

"Bu...

"If you don't want to, then don't," he dismissed his voice laced with a tinge of irritation. He might be full of smiles but his frowns are scarily cute.

"And if I want to?" I held his gaze.

"Then there are rules." He deadpanned

I frowned, "What rules?" He hadn't mention anything about rules earlier.

"I'll tell you about that later on, but now, I need you to see this." He handed me some newspaper clippings and some Id's. The newspaper had his photo on its front page. TRAGEDY STRIKES: HASSAN JIBO & WIFE DEAD. WHERE IS AMAN?

Another read; BILLIONAIRE HEIR SURVIVES.

A MIRACLE? AMAN JIBO SURVIVES.

I dropped the newspaper and picked up the Id's; Driver's license, Voter's card, National I.d card, passport, all belonging to Aman Hassan Jibo. And if the picture on the Id's and newspaper were true, then he was, without doubt, Aman Hassan Jibo.

"I hope this would make you believe that I am Aman," There was a tint of amusement in his voice but perhaps I might be mistaken because there was nothing in his expressionless face nor demeanor that suggests he was. Besides we don't really know each other, do we? Even if for some strange reason I find him familiar.

But that's just impossible.

I shrugged staring at the wall clock in his office. Yes, they had, but nevertheless I said, "They could easily be forged. For all I know you may be impersonating him."

"That's true," he agreed which had me whipping to face him.

"That's true? You agreeing makes me shudder. How can I know for certain that you hadn't killed him and taken his place?"

"I guess you don't," And at my stricken look he added, "-but I think there is one way of finding out. Truecaller."

"What is that?"

"Truecaller. It is a mobile app used for tracing a number to its owner. Basically, when an unknown number calls, it identifies the caller."

"How is that going to help me identify you?" I asked exasperatingly

"It won't. I just need your number since we would be seeing much of each other in the next three days."

"We are?"

"Of course. Unless you've changed your mind?"

"No, I haven't."

"Then-," he pulled out his phone.

"080-39390606."

He dialled the number but when I searched my bag for the phone, it was nowhere in sight.

"I think I lost my phone,"

"It wouldn't be this, would it?" He asked handing over my Nokia 3310 mobile phone. "No wonder you had no idea what Truecaller was. Who still uses this?"

"GIVE IT BACK!" I screamed grabbing a hold of the phone forcibly from his hands. Realising what I had done, I quickly looked up at him. He was staring strangely at me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell."

"It's okay. Save my number. I hope your phone does that." He teased.

I scowled back.

"So how was the me convincing you movie suppose to play out?" I asked after a brief intermittent silence.

"There are rules-," he paused staring at me, "-just two actually-

I frown but nodded anyway as I stare into those sea of amber of his, "Okay."

He held my gaze,"First-you can't tell anyone about this,"

"Okay," I nodded.

"I'm serious- no friends, no nothing. Just you and me."

I nodded. It was a weird request but it was also a weird day and weird things keep on happening anyway.

"I understand. I don't know Aman Hassan Jibo if anybody asks, I have never even met him."

He smiled.

"And the second?"

He paused and for a few more seconds he didn't say anything.

"Yes?" I urged. I hated the suspense. What's with the dramatic effect anyway?

"You'll have to move in with me."

"WHAT?" I scowled. I don't know what he is thinking but I am definitely NOT moving in with him. What does he take me for anyway? I hissed softly.

What happened next though was something I don't quite understand. One minute I was there screaming at him, tossing out curse words and the next thing I know I was out of his office.

And then I heard the sound; it was as loud as thunder, only the rain had ceased earlier and the skies were clear. I had doubts at first but when the second sound and then the third rang through the otherwise still building, I knew for certain it was gunshot.

I had ran as fast as I could back to him, the direction I had heard the sound only to be confronted by a bloodied floor and Aman lying in a pool of his blood

"No hospitals-" he'd said weakly when I was close to him. "-and don't t..rust anybo..dy." he'd then collapsed, lifelessly in my arms

And now, I have absolutely no idea what to do and I can't help but wonder what in God's name have I gotten myself into?