When A Playboy Loves

|| 11.

King

An image of myself stared back at me from the blank screen of my iPhone 11 pro max and my lips broke into a toothless smile. Reaching for the papers strewn across my large desk, I shoved them angrily into the last drawer as though one more glance at the word, SOLD written in big, bold letters would burn my eyes.

Five times I had gone through the same document, trying to find a loophole in the contract, something that said Chief Edward wasn't allowed to transfer ownership to his daughter but there was none. The land belonged to him and he could do with it, whatever he pleased.

Leaning back on the plush, swivel chair with my hands clasped behind my neck, my gaze swept lazily over my office, landing on the temporary coffee machine. The sight of it awakened memories that I had struggled not to remember all week, especially those pair of ashen eyes that seemed to hold a warning, tell a tale in the language only a few could understand.

She wasn't the kind of woman I would go for; I was more of an ass than a boob guy and she was lacking in both departments. It was what made her the best choice, a woman outside of my league that would be easy to forget once the weekend was over. Her skinny frame was a no-no for me and on top of that, she had kids; her type required stability, a man that was ready to settle down.

Though I wasn't willing to give up my freedom nor commit to a relationship, it didn't stop those sneaky thoughts from creeping up on me. To wonder how it would feel to have a real girlfriend, a lover to chit-chat with while I massaged her feet.

Uti's deliberate refusal to swap contacts with me before leaving the house on Sunday evening should have rid me of these abnormal thoughts, yet, it didn't and I pined even more for another contact with her.

Subconsciously, I reached for my phone again with my fingers itching to dial Vincent's number. A soft knock on the door stopped me from hitting the dial button and I breathed out in relief, mentally reprimanding myself for my near imbecilic decision.

This had to stop; I needed to get laid.

The knock sounded again and Mr. Adams's leisurely strolled inside. His presence made the room seem a few sizes smaller and I felt the need to rise up to greet him but I didn't. I knew what he wanted even without him speaking; two weeks had passed and I was right back to square one.

"The land we have been going after actually belongs to Miss Bassey," he said in that no-nonsense voice of his; he wasn't one for pleasantries and this time was no exception.

When I remained composed, his brows rose slightly in surprise and his arms found their way into the pocket of his black coloured Senator garb. "You knew this."

It felt more like a statement rather than a question so, I responded with a noncommittal shrug. A pang of guilt hit me at the look of shock on his face but it was gone before I could dwell on it.

"Well then, fair is fair." That caused the alarm bells in my head to go off but I managed to maintain the visage of a calm man. "Mr. Wole also wants the post of the CEO."

"That's not possible." I breathed out, pressing my middle and index finger against my temple to soothe the mild pounding in my head that was starting to worsen.

Wole was the Chief Financial Officer and he had no business dealing with the big men at the table. He was best at handling those figures that always kept the company at its position on the list of top ten most successful firms in Nigeria. And a staff I had an ugly history with, all thanks to the female employees who couldn't resist King junior.

"With the support of half the board, I'm afraid it is." The room grew unbelievably hotter at this utterance, even with the AC on full blast, a sweat still broke out on my forehead.

"What about your support?" By some means, I found myself standing beside him, my arms a hair's breadth away from shaking him vigorously. I wouldn't have been able to if I tried, not with his well-built structure and his feet looking like they were attached to the rugged floor.

Waiting with bated breath for his reply, I forced myself to stay cool, he was the one who had the final say and his support meant the support of the other board members. I needed him on my side.

"Acquire the property as agreed and we will have this conversation again."

* * *

My black Brabus slowed to a halt beside the Volvo and I banged my forehead repeatedly against the steering wheel, hoping for some divine intercession in favour of my current predicament. The exchange with Mr. Adams still rang loud in my head, hovering over me like a halo and my shoulders involuntarily sagged with the insurmountable pressure.

Shrugging my suit jacket off, I stole a glance at myself in the rearview mirror. I looked the perfect image of a tired man. Plastering a grin onto my face, I patted my multicoloured tie, smoothed the lines on my white button-down shirt and was just about to open the door when a familiar figure strayed into my line of vision.

He wasn't alone. His partner had an arm wrapped around his waist while his hand hung on her shoulders as they walked together to a grey Bentley that was parked a few feet from where I was. The tenderness with which they held each other shouldn't have bothered me, the only problem was that the lady he was currently sticking his tongue down her throat looked nothing like the woman he introduced as his girlfriend a few days back.

To be certain they weren't a figment of my imagination, I gently slapped myself on each cheek before taking another peek in their direction. The car was still there but this time the occupants were seated safely behind tinted glasses. Shaking my head, I sauntered off to the entrance of Adrain's Place; I was here to eat not spy on cheating partners.

The inside of the restaurant was filled like I expected it to be, the calibre of people present identifiable by their choice of outfit. There were men dressed just like I was, in their suit and tie; probably here for a late lunch break also. A group of middle-aged women seated at the centre of the room collapsed in giggles when I strutted past them; they belonged to the club of rich housewives.

Soft music played in the background, the aroma of the delicious cuisines wafting in and out of my nostrils. Seated at my favourite table, a spot that offered privacy and the best view of the restaurant, I perused through the familiar menu, refusing to think about the person I saw outside.

Taking a sip from the glass of water the waitress dropped, I waited for her to return with the bowl of cow leg soup and boiled yam I ordered. Water spilled inelegantly from my mouth when I raised my head up to see Tibiebi walk hand in hand with Wole, a flirtatious grin playing on her lips when our eyes met.

Wole was all smiles as he pulled out a chair for her to sit down, the crease on his trouser looking sharp enough to cut through steel. She was dressed impeccably well as she was the first time but with a face bare of any makeup. Flashing me a smile, she kissed Wole gingerly on his cheek, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses before lowering onto the seat.

I didn't realise how hard I had been gripping the table cloth until I felt something wet seep through my trousers and onto my skin. Groaning in frustration at the now empty glass cup, I found my way to the men's restroom, unsurprised that Wole didn't recognise me when I walked past him. The man could barely see past his fingers and I had been tempted to smack the back of his big head.

My fingers stilled on the napkin when the door opened shortly after and Tibiebi walked in with a knowing smile. Ignoring her, I continued wiping the front of my trousers until I felt her hand circle around my wrist, halting my movements.

With her manicured feet in flat sandals, I towered over her short, petite frame but it did nothing to her self confidence. "I could help you with this," she caressed the wet patch below my belt, her voice a seductive whisper as she stared me straight in the eyes. 

All sane thoughts flew out of my mind as I drew her closer to me, crashing my lips down on hers.