Improvised Plan #ProjectNigeria

6- Confessions

He is the very picture of Sweet Boys Association. Falz should have added him to his video.

"Ola," he greets me, his voice smooth. He moves forward and envelopes me in a hug, and before I can react, places a smacking kiss on my lips, his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me dangerously close to himself.

"Two love birds," my friend sighs at the sight.

I feel my face burn, feel my stomach drop, feel my heart beat erratically. I am made aware of the loss of warmth when Saheed releases me, leaving me in a cloud of his masculine scent and my lips tingling from that brief contact.

I will kill him.

"Ola, are you okay?" Nonye asks, her brows dancing on her face.

"Yes," I breathe.

"She missed me," Saheed jokes.

The man beside Nonye laughs, drawing my attention from my thoughts about ranting to Saheed later tonight. He is very dark, darker than Nonye, with a clean-shaven face and hair in cornrows on the top of his head, while the surrounding scalp sports a fade cut.

Hair cut ndi fuckboy? I wonder.

Nonye's date is handsome, and that knowledge shows in his smile towards me, in the way he cocks a brow and stretches out a hand for me to shake.

"Mark Anthony Opara," he introduces himself, not giving Nonye a chance to do the formalities.

"Hello, Mark Anthony. I'm Ola."

"I've heard so much about you from Nonye."

I look at my friend, who beams proudly from beside Mark Anthony. "Good things, I hope."

"And funny too."

After a meal of white rice and ofada stew, a bottle of wine is popped by Saheed, before he graciously pours some into our elegant, crystal cups. He holds back the flow when it gets to my turn, barely filling half of my cup.

"You're recuperating, my love," he tells me with a wink.

But I'm too suspicious to believe that's his only reason. Nonye distracts me from my reply by calling my name.

"Can I talk to you in the ladies room, Ola? After a bit?"

I try not to blink rapidly, because that's what I do when I'm caught in a lie. Has she figured it out? Is she suspicious? Damn, she's too fast, this friend of mine! "When you're ready."

"Tell me, Anthony, how did you two meet?" Saheed is asking Mark Anthony.

Mark Anthony smirks and says, "She maxed out her credit card at one kind boutique like that in Canada, and asked to borrow mine."

"Actually, that-" Nonye chips in.

"Shut up, I'm talking here," he tells her aggressively.

Nonye looks down at her lap, suddenly silent. I raise my brows in surprise and look over at Saheed, who is giving Mark Anthony a hard glare.

"I'm sorry, baby," he tells my best friend, reaching for her hand.

Bruh, what am I witnessing? I ask myself. I'll need to ask Nonye if everything is really alright. I shoot Mark Anthony a glare, before rising to my feet.

"Nonye, I have a message for you from my father."

Slowly, Saheed turns to look at me, a brow raised, almost like he's saying, 'That is the worst lie I've ever heard.'

Nonye follows me to the ladies room, a space filled with bright lights, polished mirrors, and stalls big enough to house a family of three.

"Is everything okay with Mark?" I query.