King

The world around us slowed as Uti ruminated over her reply and the chatters of the school pupils quieted like they were also waiting for her approval. When her response came, it was muffled but I heard it - that one-word syllable that made my heart cease its pounding and resume its usual rhythm.

A grin found its way to my lips and my fingers balled into a fist, eager to be pumped into the air but I shook that urge off, settling for a dig of my nails into my palm. Excitement coursed through me like a teenage boy that was about to be deflowered and I missed my step twice before we got to my car.

One foot stepped on the gas pedal and the car engine purred softly, lunging the Brabus forward with enviable speed. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Uti hurry to put on her seat belt and I barked out a burst of short laughter; I wasn't even above the speed limit yet.

Images upon images of various eateries drifted in and out of my mind, half of which I had gone to with different women.

"Where would you like to eat?"

Her eyelids fluttered open and she muttered, "anywhere nice. I'm sure you have something figured out."

It was the way the words were spoken, soft yet laced with hidden meanings that had my doubts rising and my fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

A peek at my wristwatch showed that we had spent five minutes already. "Happy Food. Wakkis. Axari. Chillis Cafe. Sugar and Spice. Choose your pick."

"I haven't been to any of them," she murmured, leaning further into the passenger seat, "surprise me."

Anxiety reared its head at her words, wishing me luck as he danced on one of my shoulders. Impressing a lady wasn't supposed to be this difficult but with Uti, things were never as they were with other females.

Steering the wheel in the direction of the canteen, I eased the car into the only space in the garage; for my sake, I hoped she had a sweet tooth.

Uti's door opened before I got a chance to do it for her and she gingerly got out, denying me the opportunity of playing the role of a gentleman. Her phone dangled in her hands, a reminder that her number was still missing from my contact list; everything was different with her.

She went ahead of me while I locked the car doors then attempted to open it again, only rest assured when it stayed locked. Patting my pocket to confirm my valuables were intact, I made to turn when I was rudely interrupted by a short man.

"Yes?" My annoyance was barely concealed and I could see Uti tapping her feet on the ground, one hand on her waist with a frown decorating her face.

"You no know me again?" He asked, widening lips that told of his relationship with cigarettes.

Who are you?

"Na me oo. Bros for your street that year," he continued when the look of puzzlement didn't disappear from my face.

As if to jog my memory, he stretched his arms out, crossed them at the wrist then widened his legs slightly before launching into a graceful half-gallop. "It's me oo, shaku shaku master."

"You've got the wrong person," I managed to stutter out, making random gestures with my hands that I hoped Uti was able to interpret. His whole appearance made me uncomfortable: his unkempt hair, bloodshot eyes and the faint smell of alcohol -like he hurriedly brushed his teeth- that polluted the air each time his mouth opened.

The familiarity with which he spoke made the hairs on my arms stand; even worse was the fact that he was blocking my way out.

"Is everything okay?" Uti's voice was like a dream come true.

Shaku shaku master looked from me to her, nodded, then took a step back for me to pass, patting my back like we were old friends. I didn't mind that his smell might linger on me, I was just happy to be away from him.

"Now that you are here, everything is perfect," I answered with a cheesy smile, trying my best to cover my earlier discomfort. Her nose scrunched slightly, displeased with my response and I grabbed her wrist, halting her movements. "Thank you. Now smile for zaddy."

To my pleasant surprise, her lips parted in a half-smile but it didn't stop her from pulling her arm from my grip and folding it across her chest. Her actions were laughable and they reminded me of Samia who would always deny me of all forms of body contact whenever I refused to do her bidding.

Giving her a onceover, a small smile tugged at my lips when she sneered at me. She was cute.

Together, we strolled inside the eatery, heading straight to the counter like a couple having their first fight. The overhead Sugar 'n' Spice banner displayed the price of the items that were sitting in the show glass and my mouth watered at the sight of the chocolate cake with rainbow sprinkles.

I knew what I wanted without looking at the menu - a latte with more than enough milk, pancakes, sausages and my all-time favourite, puffpuff.

Pretending to be interested in the flier sitting atop the counter, I waited for an undecided Uti as her eyes scanned the rows of meat pie, cupcakes, donuts back and forth without making a choice.

"The vanilla cupcakes are the best," I suggested when her eyes lingered on the trays of cupcakes, "but don't take more than ten or you will need the toilet," the last bit I whispered in her ears.

"Why would anyone eat ten of that?" Maybe it was the way I smoothed my tie or shifted uneasily that made her add, "it's diabetes that will kill you."

Laughing in mirth at her face which was squeezed as if she was reprimanding a petulant child, I badly wanted to bop the bridge of her pointed nose.

A loud clearing of the throat brought our attention back to the female cashier who had been quiet during the whole exchange. The smile on her face made mine fade and I found myself mentally skimming through the list of women I had fucked in the past. No single memory of her.

"We will have ten of this," I pointed to the vanilla cupcakes, hiding the laughter that threatened to erupt from me at Uti's widened eyes. When she jabbed me in the sides with her elbow, I quickly admitted it was a joke, making the right order this time.

"How much?" There were two trays in front of us, one of which contained a heap of pancake that was drenched in syrup with a latte by the side and the other tray with a similar cup but three cupcakes by its side.

"Nine thousand five hundred." I heard Uti's gasp and I smiled to myself, already reaching for the wallet in my pocket. We didn't spend this much because it was just the two of us, the boys and I would have brought down the roof with our elephant appetites.

My amusement soon transformed into fear when I couldn't locate the familiar bulge of my wallet anymore. Beads of perspiration formed under my armpits as I emptied the contents of my back pockets. Empty. A brief image of the short guy from earlier flashed through my mind.

The bastard stole my wallet.

"What about transfers, do you accept transfers?" I asked with a forced smile; thankfully my phone wasn't missing.

"No, sir but we do have a POS."

My Black card was in my wallet.

This could not be happening.

"I have my card here," Uti volunteered before I could say another word, not that I had anything to say. She dug her hands into her clutch bag, retrieving a purse that contained wads of cash and her ATM card.

Bringing out ten one thousand naira notes from her purse, "keep the change."

The waiter's appreciative grin that was directed only at Uti made me feel invisible and my appetite vanished at the thrumming sound the machine made as it vomited the receipt of her payment. I was about to ask the waiter to package the food when Uti tapped me.

"Let's sit over there," she pointed at a seat by the glass walls that afforded us a view of the Calabar population as they went on with their morning activities.

When we were seated and I had sent a text to my bank manager to inform him of my missing card, I spoke again. "That guy must have stolen my wallet, I'll refund you."

"Don't worry, it's fine." That didn't ease the tension from my shoulders until she spoke again, "I have never given a tip until today." Then she smiled at me.

Bits of whipped cream stuck to the side of her lips after she took a big bite of her cake and when my eyes trailed to her lips, she wiped furiously at the residue. Pursuing her lips, she stared expectantly at me and I stared back; I wanted a taste of those two-toned lips.

"King?" I raised an eyebrow in inquiry, angry at her for licking her lower lips. "Your mother, how's she?"

"She's fine, asked about my tailor fiancé." We both laughed as our faces caught on dreamy looks, memories from that weekend playing in our minds.

This was the longest Mother had gone without sending me pictures of a potential daughter-in-law or hinting at marriage. Her frequent calls had reduced with the excuse that I now had a fiancée to look after me but the emptiness and deafening silence in my bedroom was a reminder of my singleness.

We ate the rest of our breakfast in peaceful silence except for the occasional twitching of the little man in my trousers each time she moaned at the deliciousness of her cake.

"You refused to give me your number last time," the smile on her face died but I pressed on, bringing out a pen from my breast pocket. "How about I give you mine?"

She said nothing, just stacked the dishes we had used to eat on top of each other. When she was done, she pushed the flier I had written down my number back to me.

"I have a boyfriend, who you have met, whatever this is, it can't work. Umoh loves me and he cares for my kids, I won't jeopardize that for a man who's only here to play."

To play? The only person playing is your boyfriend.

But I didn't say it out loud. The dark cloud in my mind paved way for the rays of hope that shone through when I reiterated her words in my head, at least she admitted.

"Samia's father movie premiere is on Saturday, you should come." If at all I was suddenly grateful for anything, it was for the postponement of the premiere from its initial date.

"I can't, I want to spend more time with the kids."

"The movie is children friendly; you could come with them, I'll save them extra tickets." It was as if that part of me that I had long buried -the part of me that craved companionship- had woken up and was not going to be daunted by her words.

"King." She pleaded with her eyes for me to drop the topic but I couldn't, I didn't want to.

"Cynthia Ubani will be there," her shoulders sagged and I took this as a cue to continue; the ideas were swimming in my head and the slight interest she showed spurred me on. "Picture this: Cynthia gives you a shout out on Instagram or even twitter, her million and one followers get interested and they head over to your page to check you out. You do have an Instagram account, right?"

She nodded.

"When they see how good you are, you will be the only fashion designer people will be talking about for weeks." It wasn't going to be that easy but we would get to the nitty-gritty details later.

"Why would she do that, give me a shout out?"

"Because she's my friend."

"I don't like this one bit," she muttered in resignation.

"Success never comes from your comfort zone."

When she sighed softly, I knew I had won this round. I only hoped I was doing the right thing by listening to my heart.

*****

I am probably not your favourite author right now but I have been quite busy and I will be busier in the weeks to come. I did make this chapter extra long (my longest so far) to pacify you guys while I go on a mini hiatus.

Orangee1, thank you for checking up on me.

I hope y'all are good? Tell a friend to tell a friend who tells another friend about my story, that is if you are enjoying it.

Ngwa, kachifo