“To get the full value of joy, you must have someone to divide it with.” – Mark Twain.
•••
“Anjola, I want you to meet Adebola Samson.” Tiolu gestured for the umpteenth time, to another eligible bachelor in their midst. Anjola was beginning to think that her best friend had at some point—put up a billboard advert, broadcasting the fact that she was single, for bachelors to rally round. That’d explain the large plethora of men she had been introduced to, in the evening on the cruise ferry. It wasn’t that said men weren’t of high caliber or didn’t have it going for them in the looks department, she just wasn’t intrigued by many. They all seemed too prim and proper, to be anything fun or thrilling. Not that she wanted to surf wild waves of sensual pleasures, but she didn’t think the men that had been introduced to her all day—had anything much to their exterior.
“It’s my pleasure,” Samson extended his hand, a polite smile on his face and Anjola had no choice than to return the courtesy. Just like the rest, he was pleasing to the eye. He had on a pale green safari blazer, on grey wool khakis and black shiny Moccasins. He was on a skin cut, and it made his well groomed beard more prominent although Anjola thought it was overkill, as the hair was quite voluminous. “I’ve heard a lot about you, from Tiolu.”
“Oh, really.” Anjola furrowed her brow, turning to her left to give her friend a desultory look, before turning back to face Samson. “What exactly have you heard, about me?” She queried, with a wicked smile glowing in her eyes.
The wedding reception had ended about three hours ago, and so they moved to the final phase of celebrations of the day, which was a cruise ride on a large ferry across the lagoon on the island. Unlike the receptions, the ferry ride was exclusive for only the couple, their friends and close-friends-of-friends. In addition to that, adults weren’t allowed access on the ride because the couple wanted only young adults, that wouldn’t perceive whatever transpired from a conservative standpoint. If adults were around, the younglings would refrain from indulging in several pleasures that the adults would deem sinful. And so to take said constrain out of the equation, the adults were denied access and told to go home.
The ferry they were on was a 190m Classic Cruise ship that was three tiered, with domes spawning the entire ship, like a massive gladiator arena. The interior was modern and exquisite, consisting of lush floral, studded wallpapers and marble tiles, with the color white dominating the color scheme. A lot of people on board wore attires with bright, resplendent colors which made them look regal, and so coupled with the opulent design of the ship—made it seemed like they were some Atlantean vessel, washed up on shore and travelling back to their home.
People were on all floors of the ship, chatting and engaging in a variety of party oriented activities. Anjola was on the very top of course, alongside the most dignified personas on board that was mostly close friends and family relatives of the couple.
Although, everyone on board would occasionally ascend to the top floor, so they could extend their greetings and pay their respects to the couple, before retreating to their respective social peers. And so it irked Anjola to be introduced to so many men, in so short a time. She knew if she tried to make a run for it to another floor, she’d most likely be accosted by some man she had been introduced to before earlier on. The safest place, was still by Tiolu’s side although she feared Dayo was going to pull his wife away, to his side soon.
“Um, well I uh…” Her mind returned back to the present, where Samson was apparently struggling to provide an answer to her question, just as she had predicted. He had only led with the cliché line, of Tiolu relaying information about her to him when such didn’t exactly happen. She had intentionally put him in a tight spot that he couldn’t get out of, so he would have no choice than to back out. “Well, you know that you guys are best friends, and you hang out a lot and all.”
“Of course, what are best friends for if they don’t hang out a lot?” Anjola’s brows furrowed, and Tiolu intercepted her reply before she could tighten the tension in the air.
“Um, it was great seeing you again—Samson.” She touched him affectionately on his right bicep, and flashed him a farewell smile. “I’d definitely see you around.” Tiolu then dragged Anjola away, before Samson could get in a word edgewise. When they were in a secluded corner, away from the crowd of people, huddled in groups—chatting and making merry, over the sonorous melody of live jazz playing, she started her much anticipated admonition with a scowl on her face. “What the hell are you doing, Anjola?”
“And what the hell do you think you’re doing, also?” Anjola returned the query—folding her arms and matching her friend’s intense gaze. Tiolu had changed from her native, bridal attire she wore during the reception to a white jumpsuit, with glass gleamed straps and silver wedges. Her corn row braids had been released to fall in seamless curls over her face. Anjola knew she was beautiful, but Tiolu had that magazine-esque beauty that always intimidated.
“I am concerned about your love life, A.J.” Tiolu frowned. “Why are you not concerned? You are twenty-six, soon to turn twenty-seven. That’s young for a bachelor, but you’re technically approaching your nineties as far as the spinster life is concerned.”
“Nineties? Don’t be ridiculous.” Anjola scoffed. “I still have plenty of time. And you introducing me to multiple men, as if I’m raising money for stem cell research, and they’re sponsors—is beyond me. I can find men on my own, and I don’t need interference from you or anyone. And see the guys, that you’ve been introducing to human being sef. They look like advanced prototypes of robots, who only know the basics of socializing. No one of them has said something that’s not cliché or formulaic.”
“Oh really? You want wild ones?” Tiolu’s right brow furrowed. “Because I intentionally brought all the men that I know, have the potential to be your type—”
“So you just assume that I like boring men?”
“No, I assume that you like prim and proper men that would be polite, and not let loose until the tenth date, at least.” Tiolu retorted, and burst into a laugh when Anjola leveled her a threatening look. “Fine, sorry but trust me you do not want someone that’d charm the pants off you on the first meeting. People like that are mostly about sex.”
“I don’t necessarily want a charmer, just someone who is fun, lively and that can engage me in a fun conversation and crack me up once in a while. I mean, look at the Samson dude. I can’t imagine him being fun and witty, when he’s named after a Bible character. I imagine as he talks, he supports his words with scriptures from the Bible.”
“My God, Anjola. Since when did your faith become appalling.” Tiolu’s shoulders rocked in laughter, and she covered her mouth with the back of her right palm.
“My faith isn’t appalling, dumbass. It’s stronger than ever.” She rolled her eyes, a movement behind Tiolu drawing her attention. A petite, gorgeous young adult clad in a black corduroy jacket, over a black turtle neck and ripped jeans was approaching. It was Dolapo of course, Tiolu’s sister-in-law and Dayo’s twenty year old sibling who had a radical, refreshing personality. They had met once, and Anjola had been taken by her immediately, alongside everyone else. The girl was one of those classy, intellectuals full of grit everyone couldn’t help but like. She then started to wonder what news Dolapo was bringing to Tiolu.
“I just want someone fun for a partner, okay?” Anjola rounded up, with her earlier speech. “And not someone whose idea for fun is doing volunteer work for the community.”
“Or someone who doesn’t like spontaneous sex, and would insist on doing you only in the bedroom.” Tiolu’s laughter intensified, and this time around she did nothing to suppress it and only threw her head back. “And would even make a time table for the days of having sex, and would only do it missionary style, without giving a fuck about foreplay and pleasuring you.”
Anjola knew she did want an experience that exhilarating, no matter how sinful it sounded and all she could do was shake her head. “You’re a case, Tiolu.” And at that moment, Dolapo halted by their side, her Timberland boots announcing her arrival. Tiolu turned to face her with a look of curiosity.
“Hey, Anjie.” Dolapo greeted her with a soulful smile that bared her teeth, and she also returned another one in kind. She assumed the girl was going to face Tiolu with her address, after acknowledging her presence but it seemed it was her she came for. “There are four people looking for you, on the second floor. They say they’re your friends from work. The one who introduced herself to me, is named Adaure and two hot guys—I must say—were in her company. I’m sure you know who they are?”
Anjola’s heart made a leap of joy, making her head reel a bit and her mind, woozy. She had been expecting them all day, and had almost given up all hope that they’d make the event but they hadn’t disappointed after all. The trio of visitors were her closest coworkers from Sigma Corp—one of the oil conglomerates in the country, where she worked as an accountant. Securing a job in an establishment of such prestige and acclaim was one that many longed and scoured for across the country, and so she was fully aware of the fulfillment the job brought, and the number of beautiful people that she met through it.
She hurried through the hordes of clustered people, with Tiolu and Dolapo in tow as she headed for the lower floor—catching glimpse of her figure on the glass panels around, and her white lace shift gown that accentuated her shape. She couldn’t help but glance around, surreptitiously to discern if people were ogling her rear, because it was a bit past the moderate size and the gown did caption it. Sighing, she chastised herself for being too guarded like Lekan had implied earlier in the day. She then did another visual sweep of her surroundings, searching for Lekan and wondering why he hadn’t shown his face all evening.
Why the hell are you looking for him?
She shrugged off all thoughts concerning Lekan, refusing to face the reality that her once dormant admiration for him was gradually getting awakened. Not now, the moment was too crucial to address that. She’d face that reality later on. Just as she lifted her gaze up, after descending the stairwell—her gaze locked with Adaure’s, and she stiffened her body, instantly bracing herself for the incoming impact. Her friend barreled to her side, almost sending her toppling over after slamming her body into hers for a hug. Anjola could only hope that the hug’s grip wasn’t enough to choke her.
“Ada, you’re embarrassing us.” A drawl came from behind, and Anjola whirled around after breaking the hug to meet two, very familiar persons beaming with smiles of their own. Ehize, the refined, young pretty boy of the office who many women, both young and older, pawed over. He was wearing a black waistcoat, with even white stripes, black khaki pants and brown leather brogue boots. His face was well shaven of all facial hair, and his trimmed afro was cut lower, adding a dash of masculinity to what was usually a boyish vibe, he was characterized by.
But it was the taller, fairer man on Ehize’s side that had drawled in that deep, sonorous voice. Delano Yele, another coworker of hers in the accounting department of Sigma, but unlike Adaure and Ehize—was her boss, since he was the deputy head of the accounting department. Although, he didn’t seem out of reach like most bosses, and he associated with them freely as if they occupied equal positions of power. Delano was wearing a button down, crisp green shirt on brown chinos trousers and black Oxfords. It was a simple choice, that was iconic of his laid back taste in fashion. Anjola couldn’t remember a time when she thought Delano was overdressed.
“Anjola isn’t the one getting married, so I have no idea why you’re screaming like that.” Ehize picked up from Delano, and joined in his grumbling. “And it’s not like you guys are secondary school students, meeting for the first time after summer holiday. Y’all still saw each other yesterday, so I really don’t get what the fuss is all about.”
“And it’s great to see you guys, also.” Anjola rolled her eyes, and went on to pull both guys in for friendly hugs. It wasn’t after that, she turned back on her friend who was still beaming all over, despite the scrutiny of the guys. Adaure was wearing a brown overcoat, on a long pencil skirt with a backside slit and black Stiletto pumps. Her Bohemian curls were combed into sleek curls, and her cat eyed glasses completed the liberal look. Adaure was the only person, Anjola knew who could pull off looking stunning in an absurd mash up of formal and casual outfits.
“Don’t mind them, bad belle won’t kill them.” Adaure dismissed the guys words with a wave of her hands. It was then Anjola realized Tiolu, the bride of the day was standing static behind her, apparently awaiting introductions.
“Oh! My bad.” Anjola sighed, glancing back to Tiolu and gesticulating that she step forward to join the group. “Tiolu, I want you to meet Adaure. My closest friend at work.” She paused to motion to Adaure, and her coworker extended a hand but Tiolu swatted it away, and drew her in for a hug instead, after complimenting her looks. While Adaure blushed, Anjola introduced the guys to Tiolu also and this time, her best friend accepted a handshake. “So, this is my work family.”
“Yeah, yeah rub it in. We’ve been work zoned.” Delano said with a feigned, broken expression and it stirred laughter amongst everyone in the group. “Congratulations on getting married, Tiolu. I hope your marriage is all that you wish for, and more.”
“Aw, thank you so much. I hope yours too would be great, if you’re yet to get married.” Tiolu replied, with a benevolent smile.
“Oh, I’m still single. But that’d change, once I manage to get Anjola to notice me.” Delano replied, in a jesting voice but Anjola couldn’t help but wonder if there was honesty embedded in them, no matter how little.
There was a little bit of an emotional friction between Delano and her. Mild, frequent sparks of affection between them in the workplace and while Anjola knew, she wasn’t exactly overwhelmed by said emotions to point that it’d make her act on them, she couldn’t say the same for Delano. A lot of folk back in the office shipped them together, and iterated that they’d make a great couple but she didn’t deem such claim plausible. One of these days, she was still expecting Delano to show up with an attractive woman, who would happen to be his girlfriend.
“So you’ve been friend zoned, in the work zone. This one is deep.” Tiolu shook her head, in mock sympathy and flashed a sheepish smile in her way. Anjola knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it, the next time they were alone in the evening. Tiolu would pester her for details on the type of relationship she had with Delano, and taunt her with it for forever until her guilt dismantled her, and forced her to do something about it. That was how scheming and evil, Tiolu could be.
“Sorry, Tiolu but where can someone get a drink over here?” Ehize asked, his gaze reminiscent of the thirst in his request.
“There is a Wine fountain on every floor. Come, I’d direct you.” Tiolu got set to leave, whipping her head in the supposed direction, where the wine was located in the distance. Adaure joined a retreating Ehize, and only Delano remained static, prompting Tiolu to turn around with a curious look but Anjola cleared the air before Delano could get a chance.
“He’s a nonalcoholic.” She said, and Tiolu’s eyes widened and then narrowed in mischief. A cold chill streaked down Anjola’s spine as she wondered what her friend was up to.
“Delano, I don’t know about you but I think Anjola has indeed noticed you, to know of your aversion to alcohol.” She quipped, and the rest joined her in laughing. Delano simply smiled and shrugged. “That’s rather assumptive of you, to think we don’t have non alcoholic drinks on a big occasion like this. I’d tell a waiter to send something your way. Ada and Ehize, you guys can come with me.”
Anjola watched Tiolu lead her friends away, which was only stalling on her part to face the fact that she had been left alone in Delano’s company. Yes, they had been alone before but it was nothing like being an atmosphere, with the fragrance of love and merry diffusing about. It was definitely going to permeate through every group and couple, no matter the foundation of said relationship.
“Your friend is really a delight,” Delano commented finally, leaving her no choice but to turn to face him. When their gazes met, it didn’t cause a nervous sizzle within her as if he were the thought of a daring, life endangering thrill. Matter of fact, he had no effect on her other than the average person and then she began to wonder if their moments together thrived on the fact she had adored and revered him as an achieved, successful person in her field. A role model of some sort. That’d explain why she liked him, more than the average person who she had a loose relationship with but didn’t admire him in a masculine, sexually appealing way.
“You know that from being in her company for a couple of minutes?” Anjola tilted her head to the side.
“No, she just has this…vibe. Plus, she’s walking about freely as if she isn’t the bride and celebrity of the day. Most brides would stay in a place, where a lot of people won’t have access to them and would have to come meet them, if they wished to see them. But look at her…” Delano paused to nudge his head in the distance, and lo and behold—Tiolu was chattering excitedly, with another group of people—handing them drinks from a large stainless tray, held by a waitress by her side. “She’s going about and engaging everyone, and even serving drinks on her own wedding day. She’s a free spirit, one who doesn’t care much if she knows the person she’s talking to forehand, before engaging them in conversation.”
Delano was right. Tiolu was indeed a free spirit. “Yeah, she is indeed a free spirit. A smoking hot one at that, with a perfect skin tone that makes you just want to kill her sometimes. Not even for ritual or anything, but because someone with a skin that’s almost totally void of scars and bruises shouldn’t be wandering freely about.”
Delano laughed. “Yeah, she’s alright but you’re way more gorgeous—”
She scoffed, her eyes widened in unbelief. “Please, don’t even go there—”
“It’s because it’s the truth—”
“It is so not the truth. So not, at all.” Anjola refused to agree. “I know I’m pretty attractive also, but no. People like Tiolu make me look like a potato. Don’t even compare it together.”
“Well, I think you’re a lot prettier—”
“Aha, you think. Doesn’t mean it’s the truth or anything. Just your opinion.”
“Who gets to decide who is prettier? It’s just another person’s opinion then, if that’s the case.”
“Delano, really. It’s no use complimenting me that way. It’s fine.” Anjola laughed.
“You don’t get it. Just because a lot of people might say Tiolu is prettier, and gravitate towards her doesn’t make her more pretty. There is a difference between being attractive and pretty. Tiolu is very attractive because of her complexion. Yes, she’s pretty too but light makes everything more beautiful. I bet if we take away her complexion, she wouldn’t be as pretty as you are with your dark skin tone. Any woman that’s dark and beautiful, is the real, primary, raw definition of beauty.”
“Aww, thank you.” She couldn’t repress her smile or prevent herself from looking away. She thought of replying with a compliment of her own, but before she could formulate a coherent thought, an intruder barged into their middle. Coming up from behind her and snaking his arm over neck. The action was quite sudden, and before she could shrug the hand off—the owner had proceeded to introductions.
“Lekan Keye,” Lekan held his free right arm to Delano, and the latter took it with a look of precaution. “Tiolu’s brother. I’m also Anjola’s boyfriend.”
Delano jerked back, as if he had being delivered a blow to the gut. “Oh, A—Anjola never told me she had a boyfriend.”
“That’s because I don’t have one,” Anjola scowled, shoving Lekan’s hands off her shoulder. “Excuse me, Delano. I’d like to have a word with Lekan.”
“No problem,” Delano replied, the shock on his face having dissipated already upon Anjola’s clarification.
“I’m not going to make out with you on this ferry, no matter how private the corner is. Too many people are on this boat.” Lekan grumbled in feigned displeasure, as Anjola hauled him away—his voice loud enough, so Delano could hear. But she was sure Delano had already realized he was quite the juvenile person, and therefore couldn’t be trusted. Anjola pulled Lekan through the crowd, and into the corridor of the cabins. She didn’t halt until they were in the private stalls of the male bathroom.
“Ouu, you really want to get down and dirty, here don’t you?” Lekan remarked in a highly gratified, delightful voice that made Anjola start to wonder if he was just being his usual infuriating self, or actually thought she was going to indulge in something sexual with him. Did he think she were that loose? Nonetheless, she twisted the knob of the stall open and motioned that he went first. He did so without debate, and the moment his entire body had crossed through the door frame—she slammed the door shut, and implored the locks.
Lekan’s face morphed into that of an horrified one, as he peeked through the rectangular peep hole. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Locking you, inside of course.” Anjola smiled triumphantly. “You actually didn’t think I called you out here, to talk. I know you’re incorrigible, Lekan. No amount of talking is going to change anything about you. It hasn’t for the past twenty seven years, since you’ve been alive so I’m not green enough to think that would change all of a sudden. This is what the English men call, a trap. Enjoy your stay and make yourself feel at home.”
“Anjola!” Lekan screamed in dismay, and was that genuine agony on his face. “C’mon. You can’t possibly lock me up and leave me here? What if no one comes here for the next couple of hours? I’d be stranded here.”
“Oh, well I’m counting on it.” She flashed him an uncanny smile, before stepping away from the door and commencing her walk to the bubbly atmosphere outside, Lekan’s pleas of mercy—booming from afar, serving as her background music.
***
Lekan’s head jerked up from where he sat in the restroom stall, in reaction of the surfacing of a distant noise. Rising to his feet, he strode over to the door and peeked through the peep hole to confirm if there were indeed people approaching. Much to his relief, there was—as he could make out two silhouettes approaching—and he let out a cry of victory.
For the past twenty minutes, he had being held prisoner by Anjola for his earlier facetious act. He couldn’t help but wonder why Anjola had reacted in such ruthless, cruel way. He had taken his infantile attitude way further than that in the past, and she had never been so vengeful. Perhaps, the man in her company was one she had the hots for and couldn’t bear him thinking, that she was in a relationship with someone else.
It wasn’t like he thought she had feelings for him anyway.
His train of thoughts skidded to a halt, when shuffling sounds on the other end of the door became audible. Exhaling, he rose and strode back to the door—facing it, with his arms akimbo. When it creaked open however—two people in a rather sensual grip, and ravenous kiss tumbled in and broke apart, the moment they realized they had company.
Lekan jammed his hands together, thrice in an exalting applause while the couple separated, and put themselves into order. “Damn, I’d say get a room but you guys indeed got a room, seeing as you tried to camp out here, but this is someone else’s wedding reception for goodness sake. Might as well keep it in your pants, until the evening is over and whatever happened to the cabins? I’m guessing you guys don’t know the couple directly, for you not to have a cabin. Which should automatically make you guys be on your best behavior.”
“Oh, shit. Lekan, we both know you’re the last person that should be talking about people acting on their best behavior.” The male growled, and it was then Lekan finally cared to study the couple. The man had quite a forest of dreads on his head, which locks were packed tightly into a bun. He wore a brown leather jacket, on blue faded jeans and black loafers. And had a glossy, silver ring on his left index finger, engraved with an S. Not that, Lekan’s vision was that sharp but because he knew this man in question.
“Sultan, shut the fuck up.” Lekan hissed. “This is my sister’s wedding, and you’re only here because you know me. Now, while I’m a fan of all the sensual pleasures in the world, and I believe you should indeed do it wherever you please—if someone finds you in a compromising situation, it’d be traced back to me and I’d hear it from Tiolu and my parents. Yes, oldies weren’t allowed on this ship because of reasons like this, but for Christ sake there are indeed kids here. How are you going to explain to a kid, when he sees you doing stuff he or she shouldn’t understand, or know about?”
“Just use the poker thing, it always works.” Sultan shrugged, without looking the least apologetic. The fair vision beside him—clad in an off shoulder satin gown pleated in folds—brushed her short braids aside, obviously mystified by their exchange. “We’d say we are playing poker and if they do tell their parents, they’d never know it’s not the poker game and same for everyone they might tell from there on out.”
“What of if they decide to play poker? Thought about that?” Lekan retorted.
“We’d say the game is too complicated for kids to play.” Sultan said with a calm aura, once again.
“Wow, you pig. You sure do have experience in kids catching you in compromising situations now, don’t you?” Lekan shook his head, before turning on the wide eyed beauty still petrified on the spot. “You agree with him? If yes, I’d leave the rest room now and leave you guys to your battle. I could even be the lookout guy, for you people. You know, you look like a pretty decent person that was swooned by this idiot’s sweet mouth…” Lekan paused, motioning to Sultan. “We wouldn’t want the next person coming in to see you and soil your image, now would we?”
The woman seemed to take offense. “Excuse me? But you don’t know anything about me to judge me, how dare you?” Then she turned to face Sultan. “You’re seriously going to stand there and let this fool insult me?”
Lekan donned a dumbfounded look, while Sultan went on the defense. “Hey, you stood still while he insulted me earlier, why should I be your knight in shining armor? Sure, that stuff is characteristic of men but in today’s society, we are trying to give the woman a voice of reason. You know? Equal rights shit. I can’t be chivalrous, when it could come off as toxic and egoistic. So I think you have your own right to defend yourself. I’m a feminist like that.”
Lekan burst into a hysterical laughter, while the beauty dashed out of the restroom but not before stomping hard on Sultan’s feet with her heels. When the violent clanking of heels on the tiles had finally drifted off, both men recovered from their laughter, with Sultan limping to a seat in the stall, so he could take off his shoes and inspect his assaulted feet. His friend seemed to be in excruciating pain, as indicated by his grimace and gritted teeth—yet he was still smiling at the dissolution of the entire thing.
If Lekan’s intuition was right, Sultan had probably met her tonight and hadn’t talked with her for more than an hour. Sultan loved the carnal, amatory pleasures just as much as he did—but they had a stark difference in their orientations about it. Lekan prided himself on satisfying his partner, as much as he craved to quench his own thirst—but Sultan couldn’t be less concerned about the other person. Lekan had deduced this because Sultan didn’t bother building any relationship of any sort, that’d enable him to understanding the type of individual—he was entangling with—that would extend to a mutual pleasure resonance during the act.
“At least, you’d remember her for a while.” Lekan commented on his friend’s hunched figure, as the latter studied the blood marred, blister on the toes of his right feet. Sultan grunted—veins protruding on his forehead, as he tucked his feet back into his shoes. “You know, anytime you look at your feet and see the injury.”
“Fuck off, Lekan.” Sultan hissed, jutting out his legs. “What the hell are you even doing here? Locked up in a toilet? Were you masturbating? Is that it? Because you want to behave yourself on your sister’s wedding and not mess around with anyone, you’re masturbating to ease your urge.”
“Say one more shit and I’d step over that leg.” Lekan threatened his friend, before sinking in the seat next to him. “I was locked up here by Anjola. As punishment for introducing myself to someone as her boyfriend. You know Anjola, right?”
“Yeah, I do. Tiolu’s bestfriend. Who wouldn’t notice her? She is sexy as fuck and has a big—”
“Yeah, hold it right there before you say something offensive about her and I have to smack you over the head.” Lekan cut him off with a venomous voice.
“Chill out,” Sultan rolled his eyes. “Last I checked, she wasn’t your sister or your girlfriend. Or, you’re trying to score with her? Is that it? She has turned down your offer?”
Lekan was surprised, his anger was getting the better of him. Talking about women in this manner with Sultan, wasn’t something that irked him. Sultan was the only thing closest to a friend he had, and they pretty much led similar lives. Sultan was also the son of a business mogul—such privilege in turn, making his own personal business of running a night club—thrive on the resources provided by his father. Lekan himself was a real estate agent, and his venture was also facilitated by channels to a large stream of customers developed by his dad. And so they both lived a carefree, feckless life. But there was something precious about Anjola, something dignified that repulsed him when Sultan referred to her in that manner.
“Okay, you should know Anjola isn’t that type of girl.” Lekan replied. “She isn’t the one you meet in a party, and bang some hours later. Or the one you date and bang a couple of months later, in fact. She’s the type you put a ring on, and spend your entire life being committed and devoted to—”
“Oh, bullshit Lekan. I can’t believe this cliché talk is actually coming from you.” Sultan chuckled in an incredulous monotone, and it only made Lekan want to pound his fists into his injured feet, more. “While I’m not naïve to think someone won’t offer me sex on the spot, and are actually quite guarded about it—the fact is just that everyone has a price. The trick is discovering it.”
“Of course, she has a price. Just told you it’s getting married to her and remaining devoted. Something, someone like you can’t pay.”
“If I’m really into her, I could play the committed type for a year and get married to her just so I could have my way with her. Then I’d divorce, when I’ve had my fill and move on to greener pastures.”
“And you think she’d fall for you?” Lekan threw his head back in laughter. “Your entire act would crumble when she realizes, you run a nightclub. I don’t think the girl has ever seen the four walls of a club before, not to talk of having a friend who frequents it or, even dating someone who runs one.”
“Your sister clubs and they’re best friends.” Sultan insisted.
“I wish. Tiolu isn’t that same wild, fun person you knew her to be. Anjola has changed her and her billionaire nerdy author husband, also. So trust me, that is not a point.”
Sultan scoffed, rising to his feet with care. “You’re just sore that she rejected you, and afraid she might actually fall for me. Don’t worry, I’d save you some of the spoils. By the time I’m done with her, she’d be more open to adventures.”
“I swear to God, I’d knock those dreads off your head.” Lekan snarled, as he trailed Sultan out of the restroom and back into the hallway, to commence their walk outside. “And let’s even assume that she is somehow taken by you, I will warn her and tell her everything about you.”
“Since when did you become a snitch bitch?” Sultan stared at him, as if he couldn’t recognize him anymore.
“For Anjola? Always and forever more. See you around, punk.” He punched Sultan’s biceps, just as they stepped through the cabin doors, and joined the vigor of the bubbly atmosphere back. He and Sultan parted ways and he rerouted his steps back to the highest tier, where his family was. By the time he arrived, tables and utensils had been set in place. A wide variety of meal platters and dishes littered the cotton draped tables—flanked with bottles of champagne and wine glasses.
It wasn’t difficult to locate Tiolu’s table, since it was at the farthest, most segregated corner of the floor. The table had a ten person seating capacity, and was already being occupied by Tiolu, Dayo, Anjola, Amanda, Ife and five other people either in the bridal train or the groomsmen.
Dayo took the pioneer seat at the other end, and Tiolu slid into the seat by his left. Amanda sat across from Tiolu, while Ife sat by her side on the right. Anjola on the other hand, took up space on Tiolu’s left and Lekan sprung to action before anyone could sink into the seat next to her, but his speed was impeded by the clustered seats and before he got to her side, a groomsman had taken up the space.
“Hey, you finally made it out of the bathroom.” Anjola sensed his presence and flashed him a warm, disarming smile almost as if she hadn’t locked him up in toilet, in spite. “Good for you, that someone came along to the toilet because honestly, I had forgotten all about you.”
Despite the fact that her voice was coated in malevolence and evil, she had an angelic, innocent expression and it was greatly endearing and warmed his heart. She always made him feel things, other women couldn’t incite in him—even in bed, while panting in the waterfall of pleasure.
He wasn’t in denial that he had feelings for her, but he knew chasing said cause would be a futile one. Anjola would never give someone like him a chance, as he was clearly not her type. More so, he wasn’t exactly sure he had it within him to remain faithful in a relationship, and pull the plug on his manic life, since a devout relationship would demand that. It was all greatly befuddling.
“Yeah, yeah.” Lekan drawled, as his mind schemed on how to get the person seated right next to her off the table. An idea struck him over the head, and he implemented it instantly. Squeezing himself into the small space, separating all chairs at intervals—he reached for a bottle of wine and a glass, and made an elaborate fuss of filling it right on the table.
When the glass was filled to the brim, with droplets of wine seeping out—Lekan tilted the glass to his left, and offloaded the wine on the table, and hence the groomsman who was clad in a rather ludicrous, vintage shirt with oversized lapels.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. My hand just slipped.” Lekan paled, setting the bottle back on the table and attempting to swipe off the splattered wine, dripping all over the table—so it would miss his target, but it only worsened it all because he sent drops of the wine in soaring rivulets over his shirt, staining it in red blots. The groomsman shot to his feet instantly, and flashed Lekan a lethal glare as if he knew he did it on purpose—before scurrying away, to the bathroom perhaps to put himself in order.
Lekan settled into the now empty seat in relief, although he could feel the heat of Anjola’s glare. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Her gaze held surrender, almost as if she had given all hope on him, and had accepted him for his puerile ways.
Before he could reply, Tiolu intercepted him from across the table. “Lekan, when Dayo and I are leaving for Spain tomorrow morning, I need you to go to the loft we newly purchased and check out the stuff, to ensure it cross checks with what the agent told us.”
He frowned, as he dished Jollof rice—stocked with chunks of meat, green peas and sweet corn—into his plate. “Why me?”
“Why you?” Tiolu ducked out her head to the side, to stare at him with a look of unbelief. “I can’t ask my brother to do something for me, again? More so, you’re a real estate agent also. I thought your expertise would be useful in the area.”
“It’s not like I have a sketch of the model or something, that my expertise would be useful or anything—”
“Lekan, I don’t ask you to do a lot of stuff for me. Just this one thing, shouldn’t be so hard—”
“Hell, I just said why me? I didn’t even say I wasn’t going to do it.” He retorted, signaling for Ife to pass a bottle of water for him. After filling up his glass, he took a swig and continued. “And you don’t get to work that angle, because I don’t ask you to do stuff for me at all.”
“Fine, Anjola would just go herself.” Tiolu shook her head, giving up but she didn’t know her statement had sparked her interest.
“If Anjola is going, I’d go then.” He added.
Anjola who had delved into her meal already, paused to swallow a mouthful before turning him with a wary look. “Why must I go before you go?”
“Because that’s the only way to get him to go, dumbass.” Tiolu interjected once again, before he could get a chance. “That was always the plan B. The failsafe. Now, here is the pass code to unlock the security system and the keys, for the main gate.”
“Yeah, I’m not going with Lekan.” Anjola said, just as Tiolu slid over a square tract, looped with a key—containing the pass code to her friend, but before she could collect it—Lekan stretched his hand over her head and yanked it from his sister’s hands.
“Aha, now you don’t have any choice than to go with me.” Lekan exclaimed in victory, and slid the tract into the inner pocket compartment of his waistcoat. Anjola only sighed and resumed eating her meal. There was a relative silence, until Tiolu’s gorgeous sister-in-law came around her brother’s back, to whisper something in his ear. When she was done relaying her information, she turned on Anjola.
“So Anjie, I hear you work at Sigma corp. One of the biggest oil corporations in the country.” The girl, whose name he wasn’t sure of—said with an expression hearkening to envy.
“Oh, well it’s very fulfilling I must say.” Anjola face lighted up, as she took a sip from her bottle of wine and looked up to face her addresser. “The job incentives are great, the working environment is wow. The salary is really great also, and I have the best coworkers in life. You met them earlier. They were the ones who were seeking for my attention.”
“Ouu, I knew it. Those guys are from Sigma? Of course, they’re hot.” Dayo’s sister exclaimed, while the table erupted into laughter. “Especially the dark one on boots. Are the rest of the men at Sigma, hot like that? Of course, they’d be. It’s an oil corp. The place must be crawling with smoking hot engineers. Is the chairman of the company, a young eligible bachelor also?”
“Dolapo,” Dayo shook his head in reprimand, while his wife nudged him to let her be.
“She is only hunting for hot men. Not exactly doing anything about it.” Anjola chipped in with a smile. “And no, the owner is a fifty something year old man with two daughters, my age. I added that last bit, cos I know you’re likely to ask if he has a young son, who is an heir. What are you studying in the university, though?”
“Accounting,” Dolapo said with a breeze, and Lekan could almost infer that she wasn’t so intrigued about it. “Just doing it because of dad and mom. My real flair is fashion. I’d be going into fashion designing, after a couple of years working in an accounting firm.”
“Why, though?” Amanda was the one to ask this time, around. Virtually everyone on the table had concluded with their meal, and were only sipping from glasses of wine. “Your brother is a billionaire in local currency, right? The hell do you need to work for a couple of years for? Or it’s not to raise capital?”
“No, it’s mostly about working experience, learning how to be independent and not incurring my parents’ wrath instantly.” Dolapo replied, turning to face Amanda with her hands, gripping the steel bars of Dayo’s chair. “I mean, they want me to be accountant. I can’t just come out of school and dump the degree in their face.
“Gotta work for a couple of years. And also, like I said before—I don’t want to begin my independent adult life as an entrepreneur. I need it to be stable somewhat with a steady income, before I delve into fashion with my brother’s big ass money, backing me of course.” Dolapo shook her brother’s shoulder, for more dramatic flair and the entire table broke into a laugh again.
“Oh, and Lekan. Don’t forget the fact that dad wants to see you on Monday.” Tiolu said, after the laughter had died down, and Dolapo had departed from the table.
“Why can’t he just say whatever he wants to say over the phone?” He grumbled, wiping his hand with a serviette from the table.
“Because it’s a very important and sensitive matter that can’t be said over the phone.” Tiolu replied. “Lekan, don’t you stand Dad up. It won’t be funny.”
“I still don’t get this cliché, things being too sensitive to say over the phone.” Lekan countered. “Is Dad a criminal, and is the CIA listening in on the line from their HQ in Langley? Or is there a staffer from the network provider listening in on the call? Even if they are listening, do they really care? Or even understand a figment of the implication of whatever thing being discussed, when they don’t know the people in question? Or is it that there could be a chance, that the person in question could know one of us?”
“Complain from now till tomorrow but you’re going to go home and honor Dad’s request to meet you.” Tiolu said in a tone, that nullified further debate. A stranger would probably think she was a couple of years older. “Now, that’s that. Who wants dessert?”
While the sound of dessert was enticing, Lekan couldn’t help the unsettling feeling that churned his stomach. For his dad to have summoned him, there was indeed something crucial to discuss. The man didn’t care for visits borne out of sentiments and obligations to check up on him. He just hoped the conversation wasn’t one that’d alter the course of his life.
----------------------------------------------------
Thoughts? Do express them in the comments. Tap that lonely star, before proceeding.