LOST is an original Lapatutu fiction following Henry’s life journey. All characters, locations, and events in this work are fictional; any resemblance to real entities is entirely coincidental. [Click here if you missed Part 8]

One morning, nine months into his second year at A-Z, Henry received an unexpected call from Edmond’s private secretary, Naila. In all his time at the station, she had never called him. The most they had ever spoken was a brief exchange whenever they ran into each other in the lift.

“You will be going with the boss to a client meeting at midday. Wait for him in the parking.”

“Thank you, Naila. This is noted,” Henry replied, showing no hint of his excitement. Going on a client meeting with the boss was a cherished custom in the office, but for Henry in particular, it felt like the highest possible honor.

He was in the parking lot by 11:30 AM, notebook in hand, sharp in a tailored brown suit, black tie, and his silver Rolex Oyster Perpetual. At around 11:50 AM, one of Edmond’s bodyguards stepped out of the building as the familiar VX Prado pulled up to the main entrance. At precisely midday, Edmond himself emerged, stepping straight into the backseat.

Confused about where he should sit, Henry hesitated. The bodyguard gestured toward the rear passenger door. “Hop in the back,” he said. Only then did Henry realize he was meant to join Edmond in the back seat—his first time riding with the CEO in such close proximity.

The very moment Henry stepped inside the VX Prado, the world outside simply ceased to exist. The air, crisp and cool, carried the expensive scent of new leather. It was his first time sitting in a car of this caliber, making him yearn for that level of success even more. There was not a speck of dust in the interior, and the seats were overwhelmingly comfortable. But what captivated him most was the name ‘Mwibetu‘ embroidered into the headrests—a detail clearly customized straight from the factory.

For a few minutes, they all sat in silence while Edmond was on his phone. Over the years, Henry had mastered the art of concealing his emotions, so he maintained a calm, steady demeanor.

“I have seen your sales numbers, I am impressed,” Edmond said, without looking up from his phone.

To Henry, these words were as sweet as honey.

“Thank you, Edmond,” Henry replied, struggling to conceal the excitement in his voice.

“And I know you can do even better, son,” Edmond continued, putting away his phone but still not looking directly at Henry.

At the sound of that single word, “son,” a deep sense of satisfaction came over Henry. It was one thing for the students at university to playfully refer to him as “Edmond’s son”; it was an entirely different, almost sacred validation to be called “son” by Edmond himself. His total advertising revenue from all the clients he had brought in stood at 2,540,000 Shanga (about 127,000 USD)—the highest ever for a new recruit in that timeframe.

“I know you have it in you to double your highest revenue. Enter that five million club,” Edmond stated, now looking at him directly, “That is the sweet spot!”

Henry wanted to shout, to declare with every fiber of his being that it would be done. But he held his emotions in check, maintaining the cool composure he had mastered over the years.

“Consider it done, Edmond,” he replied, his voice firm, projecting absolute certainty.

As they drove past a children’s park where kids were playing, he briefly remembered Janine, his sister. He knew that one day he would have nieces and nephews, but quickly realized what that truly entailed: he would need to make even more money just to spoil them with gifts.

They finally arrived at the meeting venue, the sleek glass and steel headquarters of Apex Life, a real estate firm known for ambitious luxury apartment projects targeting young workers. But over the past few days, the company had dominated the news for all the wrong reasons. Their current project, Apex Premium—a 40-story luxury apartment complex—called for clearing over 70 acres of pristine forest in the Kifaru Canopy, a move that had ignited fierce public opposition.

Henry had been somewhat concerned about it himself.

You would think with a glass building, the air inside would be extremely humid, well you would be wrong. Very wrong. Stepping inside was like entering another climate entirely with the air was chilled to perfection. The lobby was perfectly decorated with African sculptures and models of their projects over the last 29 years.

Edmond moved straight for the MD’s office, passing the receptionist as if she were merely a statue. Henry, walking a respectful half-step behind, was amazed at the power of such a dismissive gesture.

“Edmond, thanks for making time,” the MD said, rising from his desk as they walked in.

They shook hands and settled into the leather armchairs set off to the side.

“How is the project coming?” Edmond asked, getting straight to business.

“We are at 65% completion. We shall be finished in eight months. But as I said, we need the initial payments to come through—and as you know, there is some noise,” the MD explained with a light laugh, gesturing toward a screen displaying progress images of the controversial development.

“Good. We are ready to start pushing your message,” Edmond said with a light chuckle. “This is Henry; he will be the contact person moving forward. He is one of my best and should push this well.”

“Nice to meet you, Henry,” the MD said, offering a firm handshake.

“Is the contract ready?” Edmond asked.

“Yes, it is,” the MD replied, before pressing a button on his intercom to instruct his secretary to bring it in.

Edmond and the MD signed, and just like that, the meeting was over. Henry glanced at his watch—it had taken a mere seventeen minutes. And looking at the contract, its value was a staggering 20,950,000 Shanga (over a million dollars). He couldn’t believe that all it had taken was seventeen minutes to sign off such an immense sum of money.

Seventeen minutes. That was all it. And in those same seventeen minutes, Henry’s perspective warped completely. Apex Life wasn’t the villain. They were the architects of development. When your heart is set on a certain kind of life, your conscience bends with frightening ease.

As they moved out, the MD casually asked Henry to pass by the reception for a small welcome gift. He picked up an envelope from the receptionist on their way out, not thinking much of it; he assumed it was merely a welcome note or a company brochure.

Back in the car, Edmond asked Henry what he thought about the Apex Premium project.

“I think it’s going to be a massive success,” Henry said, without a trace of his earlier hesitation.

“In 1853, a chef named George Crum was making fried potatoes when a customer complained they weren’t crispy enough. To annoy the customer, Chef Crum sliced the potatoes paper-thin. In doing so, he accidentally invented potato chips.”

Edmond paused, letting the anecdote hang in the air, before continuing with a sharp look in his eye.

“The customer’s complaint led to something better. It’s the same thing here. The people complaining have given the Apex Premium project incredible publicity. And before long, the noise will die down and the potato chips will be ready.”

Henry was in awe of Edmond’s calm, visionary response to such a controversial issue. It further cemented his new perspective. The analogy didn’t sit perfectly with him, but Henry was certain of one thing: he definitely enjoyed potato chips.

His objective was simple: push out a message that would get Apex Premium the tenants they needed. He was going to do it with everything in him. That evening, when he finally opened the envelope, he was shocked to find 500,000 Shanga in cash.

---

© An original Lapatutu Story.

Whether the envelope was a bribe or a welcome gift is a matter of perspective. But for Henry, that cash envelope blurred everything except what Apex Premium wanted him to see. Next week, the deal begins to unfold, and a single phone call leaves Henry shaken. See you next Wednesday.