Marrying the Driver's Child
CHAPTER 1

A mature brown-skinned man had just finished the dhuha prayer. Six months ago he built this mushola. It was next to the entrance of his company. He wants all his employees to be able to perform prayer services in this place. Although not too large in size, but this mushola is made very comfortable. There was a small garden in front of him. Anyone would feel right there. He felt obliged to provide worship facilities. Not only that, but he should be a good example. Ammar is a convection business owner whose turnover has been billions every month.

Ammar was wearing socks. His eyes turned to the hooded girl tosca who was sitting beside him. They accidentally meet. Even if it was only a few seconds, he could catch the clear, beautiful-eyed girl. Looks like the girl also just finished praying and is waiting for someone. They were only about three meters away. The slender yellow-covered girl immediately lowered her gaze. While Ammar still stuttered to see the beautiful scenery nearby. A few seconds later, he realized. His eyes immediately shifted. But his mind wondered. He knows all his employees. Definitely not this girl. Actually Ammar wanted to ask, was waiting for who the girl was. But how could he ask that.

Ammar left the tosca-hooded girl to return to her room on the second floor. Without greeting him one bit. Heart whispered. Let's turn around, just say hello there's no harm. But again he shook his head. Nope-no.

From the glass window he could see clearly because of the position of the mushola right in front of him. He could observe the girl from his room. Even more freely. He felt his chest. Is he debating. What a creature of God this one. Masayallah.

Thirty minutes have passed. Ammar glanced at the girl. It's still not moving. Many times he said istigfar. Why is this heart so angry? Since parting ways with Diba three years ago, his heart has been so empty. The girl who dreamed could be together at the pelaminan, ran aground in the middle of the road. Since then Ammar's life contains only work.work.

A box car enters the parking lot. Earlier this morning there was a shipment of mukena in the image shop of the west Surabaya area not far from his office. A man in his fifties, who was sitting behind the wheel rushed to open the car. A little stumbled, he walked towards the mushola. The tosca-hooded girl stood up and handed over the parcel containing the food. They chatted for no more than three minutes. Then the girl nodded and shook hands with the middle-aged man. Ammar noticed the two men adrift in age from the glass window of his room full of question marks.

“Son” Ammar calls manager all affairs.

“Iya, Sir. Can I help you?”

“Can ask please call Mr. Faisol.”

Thirty-three-year-old man moved swiftly. It was not until five minutes that Mr. Faisol had been at the door.

Mr. Faisol walked towards the second floor. He walked up the stairs full of question marks. What does the young boss call him. Usually the work only reaches the warehouse. The highest is also in the salary treasurer. During one year of working for the company, no more than twice spoke directly with the owner. That was just for a moment. First at the beginning of work. Second, when his boss is providing student duty assistance for his son. The rest when passing accidentally, usually this young boss smiled and answered his greetings. But that doesn't mean that his boss is arrogant. As a lower employee he felt the kindness of this boss. In addition to worship, he is also generous. However, Mr. Faisol felt uneasy when Son, the manager of all this affairs called him to face Mr. Boss.

The sound of the door being knocked.

“Please enter.”

This handsome boss smiled sweetly welcoming the arrival of Mr. Faisol. Again Mr. Faisol was stunned and hesitant. He has made mistakes at work. But the look on his boss's face was a smile.

“Sit Sir.” Mr. Faisol sat opposite Ammar.

“How is delivery today, smoothly Sir?” greet Ammar.

“Alhamdulillah Sir, smoothly.”

“So send where to fast, Sir?” Ask Ammar again.

Mr. Faisol answered every question this young boss quickly did not beat around the bush. He just answers according to the question. Not more and less. As an employee, especially his position is only lowly, he must be able to maintain ethics. No matter how good the boss is, he should not be impudent, such as talking a lot or asking unnecessary things.

Of course he was still confused, why the hell the boss had to bother calling him. let alone just to ask trivial things, his mind. It doesn't really matter, but there are a lot of things that are more important. For a few minutes Ammar was still muttering his question. Mr. Faisol increasingly did not understand the boss's way of thinking. What the hell he wants. But again this Faisol sir must keep the oral so as not to slip. In his heart he prayed, O Allah, guard my mouth.

Ammar scratched his head which was not itchy. I realized how ridiculous the question was. What's the business. It's like not having a job.

“Ohh sorry Sir. That was my son. He had brought me food, because I left early in the morning to send to the store, so I had no time to eat breakfast from home. After that, he went straight to college. We only talked for a short time no more than five minutes. If it is considered disturbing, I will forbid my child to come. Again sorry.” Said Mr. Faisol while bowing his body. He squeezes his fingers.

“Oh no-no not at all unobtrusive. I precisely.”

Ammar hung his words. He wanted to say that he was very happy, even if it could be every day even if the hours needed were also determined, so he could come to see him. Ammar realized how ridiculous his thoughts were.

“Before been here?” Oops Ammar shut his mouth with his hand.

What the hell is this question. Since when did he also enter into the affairs of people.

“Iya Sir, last week even almost every day my son transfers and picks me up, when my motorbike is in the workshop.”

Mr. Faisol looks so worried that the boss is not happy if his job is interrupted. Ammar seemed silent. Mr. Faisol kept thinking with his fingers. He prayed that his boss would not be angry. But hadnt he almost never heard this boss get angry.

“Did she have a boyfriend?”

Mr. Faisol was shocked by the boss' question. And Ammar himself. He could hardly believe the question coming out of his mouth. Ammar shook his head with a smile then rubbed his face violently.

“Later I will ask my wife. Because he was so close to his mother. As far as I know I haven't. But who likes the same he is actually a lot sir.”

Mr. Faisol smiled as he said the last sentence.

Ammar was shocked by Mr. Faisol's reply. His face immediately changed.

But, intermittently. Mr Faisol's son? It's not wrong, ck.ck. Perhaps similar to his mother, Ammar murmured inwardly.

“Ya already Sir, I can continue the work.”

“Both I say goodbye. Matursuwun.”

Mr. Faisol left Ammar's room feeling relieved. But he was confused why his boss wanted to know his son already had a girlfriend or not. Is that so important?

Meanwhile Ammar was still smiling to himself in the room. His gaze went down right where the hooded tosca girl was sitting. It was as if he still saw the shadow there. Has he lost his sanity?

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