When A Playboy Loves

|| 16.

Utianle

Loud chatters filled the restaurant, glasses lined the long table with different dishes set in front of us. Amidst all the noise, you could hear it: the sound of the wave as it crashed gently against the shore.

Someone said something, whatever it was, it must have been really funny because the whole table erupted in laughter, except me. Their conversations continued and try as much as they did to carry me along, I had little or nothing to say.

The after-party was more of a dinner than a party, a gathering of snobby elites who spoke only to very few people. You had to know someone who knew someone important or was a member of the high class themselves. Otherwise, no one paid you attention.

My gaze strayed to Umar, the father of this clique, patiently waiting for him to look my way so I could excuse myself. But he never once broke his stare with the young man he was engaged with.

Junior was sitting opposite me and from time to time, he would make funny faces at me, much to the annoyance of King who grumbled each time he did that. I could tell Junior was the baby of the group with the way he reported anyone who teased him to Umar, even if he was the one in the wrong.

Tomiwa was in a league of his own, his dark, brooding expression made you give serious thoughts to your words before saying them out loud. His face was hardened like he had a bone to pick with the world. The few times his face softened was when he was speaking to his fiancee.

Uche, on the other end, was drinking all of the wine, that of his and his wife. It was fun watching him snatch the glass of wine from her each time she attempted to drink it. Other times, he would push the bottle aside only for her to request for another one from the ever available waiters.

Cynthia was having fun at his expense, the smile she offered him each time he huffed was similar to the one she offered me when King introduced us. Though she had nothing but good things to say about my outfit, her red, floor-length backless gown put mine to shame. She was truly a fashion goddess, a kind one at that.

Her full lips set into a disapproving pout when Uche snatched the glass from her again and tears pooled at her eyes. She dabbed at the tears that never fell, turning away from Uche who was now trying to appease her.

In exasperation, he held out the glass to her, letting her take a long, satisfying sip. When she was done, she blinked back her tears, blowing kisses to her displeased husband. The OAP-Celebrity designer duo was everything like the media had always portrayed them: beautiful and in love.

A squeeze of my right knee brought my attention back to the man sitting by my right-hand side.

King.

He was talking but all I could focus on was his face, his lips as they moved, uttering words that never reached my ears; he was the most handsome man on this table. The black, fitted senator he was wearing was undoubtedly the one I sewed and he did not fail to announce it to his friends or anyone else who cared to know.

Everyone's outfit looked new except his but he didn't seem to mind, neither did his friends. The love they shared for each other could be seen in their eyes, the silent jokes they all seemed to be in on and it only served to reinforce my thoughts about being the odd one.

Umar slowly turned to face me, concern evident in his eyes at my untouched glass of wine. The others noticed his gaze and five pair of eyes turned in my direction. I felt like a fraud, undeserving of the spotlight King or any of his friends were giving me.

"Uti!" The voice was familiar but I couldn't place it, not with the numerous thoughts swirling in my head.

The restaurant suddenly felt too hot and all I wanted at that moment was to be anywhere but here.