Stepping out of a black 2009 Camry in a black wrap dress and yellow Manolos (you
heard me, yellow!) was Elohor! What the hell was she doing here? At this time?
She hurriedly crossed the street and slipped into our compound. “Is that Elohor?”
Layefa said driving in. Duh! Climbing out of the car, we walked towards the gate
where she was standing. “Elohor! What are you doing here?” Layefa asked hugging his
sister. “Hello Elohor”, I said quietly. “I was in the neighbourhood oh. I was just
like lemme check on my baby brother.” She replied tossing her hair. In the
neighbourhood, my ass! I’m sure the busybody came to check on us. She probably
noticed something was amiss between Layefa and me yesterday. “Oh, really” Layefa
said as we all headed for the front door, “We’re just on our way back from church.”.
Once we entered, I headed straight to the kitchen. I couldn’t risk Elohor
questioning my hosting skills. I set three glasses and a jug of apple juice on a
tray and carried it to the living room where Layefa and Elohor were sitting. “Here
you go” I said offering her a glass. “What is it?” she asked looking up at me. What
did it look like, Ode? I said in my mind. “It’s apple juice. It’s from M&S.” I
replied. Shaking her head she aid, “Eww. Please take it away. I don’t like apple
juice”. I set the glass down and didn’t even offer her anything else. I sat beside
Layefa on the two-seater couch. They talked about irrelevant nonsense for a while
before she finally said, “I’d better get going”. Stealing a glance at my watch, I
realised how time had passed. It was 9:30.
“Say hello to Emeka and the girls” I said as we walked her to her car. “Sure, I
will.” She said hitting the button on her keys to unlock her car. Just as she was
about to slip into her seat, she came back out and asked, “So is this the hair
y’all were in a hurry to go do?”. With a smirk she slipped back into her car and
revved her engine. I couldn’t believe my ears! Did she actually just diss my 5
grand haircut? She waved at us as she drove off. I turned to Layefa and he just
shrugged (as usual).
“Bola, please call him again” I said to my assistant over the intercom. “Right away”
she replied. Chris Laire was really getting on my nerves. Who the hell did he think
he was anyway? I wasn’t going to give him the chance to cancel our appointment
again. Ah ahn, ki lo de? (Ah ahn, what is it?) I thought hissing. It was almost noon
and we still hadn’t heard from him.
As I was pacing about my office, Bola beeped me. “Did you get him?” I asked. “He’s
here!” she replied excitedly. “Huh? Here?” I asked. “Yes!” she confirmed. “Okay.
after exactly two minutes usher him in.” I replied. I smoothened my hair, hurriedly
re-arranged my desk and walked over to the door.
He knocked. I waited for about ten seconds then I opened the door. Lets just say, he
was beyond my expectations. Wayyy beyond.
Dang! There he was, six foot and a few inches tall, dark, rocking a fitted grey suit
with his Tyson Beckford frame. But trust homegirl now, I had to get over myself
fast. I quickly smiled and ushered him in.