The Perfect Gentleman ✔

PROLOGUE

Somewhere in Enugu,
Enugu State, Nigeria.
Five years ago.

He opened his eyes slowly to stare at the ceiling and then frowned in confusion. This was not his hotel room, the ceiling was made with POP but this ceiling was plain white board that was starting to grow molds if the green marks were any indication. He closed his eyes automatically, trying to remember the events of last night that led to this morning.

There was that party at the La Meridian hotel and he had been gullible enough to allow that girl, Karen, hang out with him all night. She had even gotten him drunk, probably drunk enough that he couldn't remember leaving the party or coming to this room.

He looked around the room scanning it for anything to trigger his memory, until his eyes landed on the woman sleeping next to him on the bed. He tilted his head to look at her features: long lashes, pointed nose, and full lips. He didn't need to look any further. Karen Thomas had managed to lure him into bed with her.

He sat up in the bed, perhaps a little too quickly, as a pounding swept rapidly across his skull. He groaned automatically, rubbing his temples. A scream a few meters ahead had his gaze snapping to the door. The cleaning lady had her mouth open in shock, clearly not expecting him to be in the room, actually not expecting anyone to be in the room if she was here this early to clean. That information had him reflecting about this situation.

He nudged the sleeping girl beside him awake. He needed to leave but this damn headache was blinding him.

"What is it baby? Did you not sleep well?" Karen asked him, sitting up on the bed. The way she clutched the sheets told him that she was completely naked. And he realized with a pang that so was he. Did they have sex last night?

He blinked at that image. "Sleep? Did we have sex?" He asked, but when she averted her eyes, he forgo the answer.

"What was in that drink you gave me? My head is banging seriously!" He groaned again, trying to climb out of bed.

"What drink? What are you talking about? You drank a whole bottle of Champagne by yourself."

Her words had him stopping. He swung around to look at her, with perplexity etched on his features. "I did? How is that even possible?"

"You're very intoxicated than I thought if you don't remember what you did," she remarked, tugging at his arms. "You said you wanted to unwind from all the stress of opening a new branch here in Enugu, so you opened a bottle of champagne and then asked me 'your place or mine' but then you also said my place 'cause you didn't want her to find out."

He was appalled and completely bewildered by her speech. Yes, he was known for such behavior but he had put pains to make sure he wasn't lured into bed by the female folk for about two years now. He wasn't about to start now, despite what she was claiming. Besides, he was certain he could hold his liquor.

"What is this place?" He asked, searching around for his clothes. Somehow he felt the sooner he got out of this room, the better it would be for him.

She had the grace to blush. "I hired a motel room for the night. We are supposed to leave early this morning though."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the door was opened and a burly man in his forties walked in with the cleaning lady at his heels. He was obviously the manager and he looked annoyed.

"Miss Thomas, our agreement was that you'll leave early this morning. The time is already 11am and the cleaning lady told me you're still here. And with a man!" Thundered the manager, glaring at the occupants of the bed, obviously displeased.

They both sat up immediately, eyes darting around the room for their clothes. He found his clothes first and made to go get them. He climbed out of bed and heard a gasp. Karen and the cleaning lady were staring at his toned muscular body in shock. His dark-skinned naked muscular body, actually.

Before he could react though, Karen reached up instantly and pulled him powerfully back on the bed.

Then the door was opened wider and a bevy of reporters rushed in.

Cameras clicking had his headache intensify instantly. He shut his eyes, allowing Karen to scoot closer to his body, snuggling all in the bid to hide her face. He knew it was pointless. He had been in this very situation a lot of times back in his college days to know this kind of news, as far as it involved him, made front page news immediately.

An hour later and his headache was nowhere near alleviating. He was lying down in his hotel bed, fully clothed with a pack of ice placed on his hot forehead. His eyes were clamped shut to prevent strains adding to the headache.

He heard his door being opened and his best friend cum business associate, Martin, walked into the room to go sit in the sofa overlooking the bed. He didn't have to open his eyes to know Martin was glaring at him.

"That was very careless of you, and you know it. How could you let this happen? This is not college, damn it!" He raged, sounding exasperated.

He sniffed, not bothered by the situation at all. His health was paramount. "Will you stop shouting at me like I'm a child?" He spat out in disgust. "Because you came and got me out of that motel room doesn't mean you get to scold me," he stated simply.

"And where is the damned paracetamol I asked you to get me?!" He yelled, and winced sharply as pain filtered across his brain. He really must have had one hell of a drunken stupor last night, he mused.

"You're going to need more than a paracetamol when you see this. This scandal is everywhere on the internet!" Martin exclaimed frustrated, forcing him to sit up from the bed.

Reaching out, he accepted the tab Martin held out to him and looked at the screen.

He didn't recognize dropping the tab on the floor, nor did he register grabbing his phone from the bedside table to dial a number on his speed dial. Three dials and all went straight to voicemail. His fear increased in alarming proportions.

Without another thought, he flew out of bed, but he had miscalculated his health and balance and hence swayed dangerously, until Martin's arms caught him before he fell, steadying him.

"Stay still, will you! You're not strong enough to be moving about. You need to rest."

He shook his head, ignoring the pain etched there like a tattoo. His agenda was second to none right now.

"You don't understand. I need to speak to her right now. I need to speak to her before she sees this," he said, pointing at the tab still on the floor. It was probably broken.

He redialed her number four more times getting desperate. This cannot be happening, he lamented, as the calls went straight to voicemail, yet again.

"I need to talk to her, dammit! I need to talk to my wife before she sees this!" He cried, still dialing her number.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Now that we have gotten the backstory out of the way, the story proper awaits.

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