DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND - EPISODE 2

DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND-EPISODE 2

 

 

EPISODE 2

                                “Ben…you are so gonna love this.” I said as I took my seat, excitedly.

                He stared at me. “So what’s this news that has you leaving my door open?” he said, and walked over to shut the door.

I smiled at him. “I am sorry, Ben.” I said, feigning seriousness. He shrugged and took his seat. “Okay, I am pregnant!”

                “What?” Ben said, staring at my stomach.

I scoffed. “Come of it Ben, I meant Pregnant with this huge idea to bring Millaroca up, you are so gonna love my plan.” He nodded. “I know it’s competitive here and there are old brains, but I have to bring it out.”

He sighed. “Kim…This organization abides by lots of traditions; you can’t just come in here and change things no matter how impressive the ideas are.”

Yeah yeah…here we go again with Traditions! “We don’t always have to go with traditions; it’s like flying around in circles. Millaroca has been down for years, no one is buying anymore.” I blurted. “The articles are not fascinating, no one is impressed.” I said, almost raising my voice.

He shook his head. “Kimberly, you know how things are here. Mr. Adeoye believes in classic. You met him some months ago, and you remember what he told you, he doesn’t like a change.”

I drummed my fingers on the table. “He’s got to be flexible. Ben, he believes in you, why not convince him?” Ben blinked. “Or maybe, you are also comfortable with the classic stuffs, right?”

Ben frowned. “Not everyone is Professor Bankole’s daughter who has a backup plan even when fired. Some of us have to live by this all our lives.” He said, raising his voice. My face fell and I clasped my bag to my arm. He sighed. “I am sorry Kim; I didn’t mean it that way.”

                “It’s okay. I have to be somewhere.” I said, and walked out.

                The streets really aren’t fun to walk. The sun was scorching and I had to catch the next bus at the BRT station, lucky me, it was only five minutes away. I sat down thinking about my idea; I wanted to write a new series for the Magazine. It would catch the youths especially the female gender and when you have ladies onto something, the men have no choice, at least, it would tell on their pockets.

                The best thing about being on the road around 11am is that you would easily get a seat in the bus, most of the working class people would be at work, and if anyone would be on the bus, they might just be visiting friends or running errands and on a working day, you hardly find them. I leaned against the glass as thoughts floated through my mind; I had just 6 months to go. I left home September last year after my First degree.

                I didn’t have enough personal money to publish a novel, even if I wanted to, I had to write, edit, and other formalities, a year would have been over and Dad would have the last laugh. With the way things were going, Dad might still be the winner, if I didn’t find a solution to this and make myself relevant, I would be in for Economics. I had to use part of my savings when I wanted to move into the Flat with Ini and Tola. We all had our share to pay for the Porsche Flat we had bought.

 

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                Mr. Asolo, the founder of Asolo Real Estates drummed his pen on the table. “Ms. Matthew, I would love you to meet with a client today during lunch at this address.” He said, scribbling down details into a paper.

                Tola straightened up. “Sir, I have a lot to tidy up, can’t I send the other guys?” She already knew that it was Wole Briggs.

                He frowned. “This is very important to our Firm. We can’t afford to lose our much cherished clients. He asked specifically for you.” she sighed. “Don’t be tired of working hard, it has earned you this position. He needs a new house.”

                                “But Sir, Mr. Briggs has already gotten houses from us, what does he still want?”

                Mr. Asolo laughed. “His money never runs out, try to bring them all here.” He said, and turned on his laptop. He was directly telling Tola to leave. She got the message. She bowed and walked out.

                Tola hurried off to her office. “Kemi, please I would be out for lunch, if I have any messages, kindly take them down.”

                Kemi nodded. “Ma’am, you had a call when you went to see Mr. Asolo. It came from Mr. Scott.”

                Tola sighed. “I have told him never to call the office again.” She murmured and pushed her door open. She grabbed her phone and immediately dialed Tolu Scott. “Tolu, why did you call the office?”

                                “You weren’t answering your calls, Tola. I had no choice.”

                She took a deep breath. “What is it? I told you I would see you later after work.”

                                “Tola, I need money.”

                She snarled. “Of course, Money! Is that all I am good for? You always need Money!”

                Tolu raised his voice. “Is it my fault that I am unemployed? If it weren’t for my current state, would I call you to ask for money?”

Tola was really a softie. “Okay, how much?”

                                “Erm…#50,000 would do, it’s a bit urgent. So, maybe you should just wire it quickly.”

                Tola clenched her fists. “I am very busy. I would have someone do it later in the afternoon.”

                                “I want it today.” He said, and hung up.

                Tola held her head. “He always wants money! Like I am his money bag or something? Oh…God.”

                Tola and Tolu Scott had been dating for years. He is handsome, tall, fair skinned and well built. A very attractive man, but Tolu had a snag, he saw Tola as his personal purse. Her last boyfriend was a lot like him, he loved money to a fault and Tola was as ‘generous’ as ever. She had six zeros every month behind a solid number which increased gradually. He always had the need for money and Tola dished it out until she complained and he ran away, but she really did love Tolu and even when she felt like giving up, she just couldn’t quit. She really was unlucky.

                Tola pulled up at Soul Lounge and stepped in. She spoke to the attendant and he pointed to where Wole Briggs was seated.

                                “Good afternoon, Mr. Briggs.”

                He smiled. “Always on time, I like that.” He said, and helped her to a seat. “Thank you for having lunch with me.” The waiter came over and took their order. Tola ordered only a drink.

                                “Don’t make me feel bad, Tola. I just want to do business with you.”

                She nodded. “Business? Then why don’t we stick to business, and you deal with appropriate persons, if you had anything to do, you could have seen the other guys in the Firm, why me? And why do you always have to involve Mr. Asolo?”

                                “He is my father’s friend. I figured he could easily help me.”       

                She shrugged. “You have never had to work for anything, have you?”

                                “Yes. I have always worked to make sure that my life goes on just the way I want it.” He replied, with a sly grin.

                She scoffed. “You are so full of yourself, I may not have all the money in the world but I can’t be bought. If it is business you want, then let’s deal, I don’t like wasting time.”

                                “I admire your guts, Tola.” He said, and sipped his drink. “You are always throwing my love back in my face; most ladies would kill to have your opportunity.”

                Tola laughed mockingly. “Really? I had no idea that you knew so much about love. You are proud, stupid and rich, no one can love you. They only want your money, honey.” She replied.

                He blinked and turned his face away. “Am I stupid?”

                She nodded with a smile. “You are, my dear.”

                                “Thanks. We would talk later.” He said, dropped some money and walked out.

                Tola watched him walk out and smiled.

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                I stopped at the grocery store. “Old Rodger!” I called as I walked in. Old Rodger ran the store. He had a smile for everyone and he had read some of my articles, he said he loved my work. I didn’t see him at the stand so I walked inside the store. “Old Rodger.” I called.

                                “Eh…where are you going to?”

                I turned round to see a young man staring at me. “Ya…where are you going to?”

                                “I want to see Old Rodger.” I said, dumbly.

                He smiled. “Here’s young Rodger.” I squeezed my eyeballs. “Dad is not around, he is a bit sick.”

                                “Really?” I stared at him. He was wearing an Apron.

“Come over here.” He said, and walked away.

                I followed him. “Are you Old Rodger’s son?” He turned at me with a grimace. “Of course…I am sorry, you said, ‘Dad’.”

                                “Ms., what can I help you with?” he asked. He stood in front of the Fruit stand. “They are fresh and I bet you would love them.”

                I nodded. “I would have some of these and some of that….” I said, pointing at the stand.

                                “Is that all?” he asked, packing them up.

                I shook my head. “No, maybe some potatoes and vegetables too”

                                “I don’t have all day, please try to be brisk.” He said, with a frown.

                I shot at him. “Hey, I am your customer, you asked a question and I responded. If you are not happy working, you should quit.”

                                “What do you know?” he replied, and walked away to get some potatoes. “Anything else?”

                I shook my head. “You are rude! Pack them up.” I said.

                He murmured as he put them into bags.

                                “Stop murmuring, will you?” I shouted, angrily.

                He stamped his foot. “I am not in the mood, okay?”

                                “Try not to rub your moods on others.” I said, as I grabbed the bag. “How much is my bill?”

                He ran his eyes through my body and I had to look at it myself. “#3,500” he said, hastily.

                I scoffed. “So you assess people before you bill them? You really have a horrid habit.” I said, fumbling with my purse. I handed him four clean #1,000 notes. I would have given Old Rodger the rest as a tip, but for his son, I would gladly collect the balance.

                He dashed into the tiny office and returned with the Balance. “Here” He said, stretching out a Five Hundred Naira note at me.

                I collected the change and bumped into Old Rodger as I attempted to leave. “Old Rodger!” I said, with some joy. “I thought you were sick.”

                He nodded and moved aside. He puffed his pipe carefully. “I couldn’t stay at home anymore, my customers are not pleased with this kid, he’s a pain.” He said, pointing towards the direction where his son was standing, but he had now disappeared into the tiny office. Old Rodger smiled. “Henry is really something else.” He said, and helped himself to his seat. He stretched his cane out and sighed. “Did he treat you right?”

                I wasn’t about to answer that and add to Henry’s troubles. I smiled in response.

                Rodger scoffed. “Kim, I know he has an effect on ladies with his cute face and masculine body and all, but you should report him when he errs.”

                I stared at Rodger. Now that he mentioned it, I had ignored Henry’s gorgeous looks due to his attitude. A bad attitude really takes you nowhere!  “I would be off now, Old Rodger. Do take care of yourself, you should probably get some more rest and stop smoking that thing.” I said, pointing at his pipe.

                                “I can’t stop.” He called back laughing.

                I smiled and pushed the door open. “See you later.”

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                Old Rodger coughed. His cough had worsened and the Pipe wasn’t going to help, yet he won’t bulge. “Henry.” He called.

                Henry came out of the office. “Dad, she provoked me. She won’t make up her mind at once.”

                Old Rodger picked his cane and stroked Henry’s arm. “And the same with every other customer?” Henry shrugged. “No lectures today, right? You are in your finals. Try to take things more serious and maturely.”

                Henry nodded. “Aye Aye Captain!” he saluted. His father hissed. “Dad, I think you should go home, I am really capable of running this show you know.”

                                “What show? My shop isn’t a club. I make money from here to take care of you.”

                Henry rolled his eyes. “Technically, I didn’t mean it is a show, it is a short way of saying things, Dad. You really are out-dated, you won’t understand.”

                Rodger nodded and stroked him harder with the cane. Henry jumped back, rubbing his skin.  “Good for me. At least, my generation taught me to have manners. I respect everyone even Ms. Kim, not like you, who can’t respect anyone.”

                Henry scoffed. “Come on Dad!” he replied, fetching himself a seat. “That lady isn’t the reason for this attack, is she?” he asked.

                His father sighed. “Are you through with your special project work?”

                                “No Dad, I am taking aids from those Kim Banks Articles, I wish I could meet the lady someday. I need her to assist me on a lot of things, else I won’t be able to import some ideas and it would be a shame because those articles are rich.”

                Old Rodger burst into a mocking laugh. Henry stared at him. “What, Dad?”

Rodger continued laughing. He eventually stopped and poured himself some liquor. “You just met Kim Banks.” He replied.

 

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                I emptied the groceries into baskets and stocked them in the kitchen. Ever since we started living together, it became a point of duty for me; I also had to handle the cooking, except for Saturdays when we cooked together and Sundays when we ate out. I enjoyed helping out, but I wished that I had a real job. I am the youngest of us, Tola Matthews is 27, Ini is 24, she would be 25 in a few weeks, and well you know my age, but I would be 22 in July, I was hoping that I would be settled in my field by then.

                My phone rang. I stared at the home screen, it was Ben. I ignored the call. As I washed in the sink, water dripped from the broken pipe. “Ah…” I sighed and left for the store. I fetched some plumbing tools and a new pipe, all I had to do was to change the pipe.

                The door bell rang. I checked the wall clock. “It’s just past noon. Who could that be?” I thought aloud as I adjusted my gloves. The door bell chimed again. “Who is it?”  I asked as I reached for the door.

                                “Rodger” came the response. ‘Old Rodger?’ I thought.

                I opened it and shook my head upon seeing Henry, Old Rodger’s son. “What do you want?” I asked.

                                “Thanks for not telling on me before my Dad.” He said.

                I nodded. “If that’s what you came here for, it’s fine.” I replied and tried shutting the door, but he stuck his leg. “What?” I asked.

                He smiled. “It’s not fine. If it was, you won’t be trying to get rid of me so easily.” He said, with a smile. He stared at my hand. “What are you doing in those gloves?”

                I smiled. “Trying to fix a broken pipe.” I replied, holding the Wrench.

                                “Can I help out?” he asked, stretching out his hand.

                I shook my head. “Nah…I can do it.”

                His face fell. “I would feel bad leaving you alone to do it” He said.

                                “Okay, come in.” I said, stepping out of the way. I shut the door gently behind him.

                He stared at the Apartment. “Nice place you have here.” He said. He looked at a Picture frame on the wall. It had a picture of Tola, Ini and I in it. “Your sisters?”

                I smiled and handed him the wrench. “More like it.” I pointed towards the kitchen. “Get to work.”

                Henry got to work immediately. He started with the wrench while I sat and watched. “You know, I could use some help here.” He said, taking out the old pipe. I smiled. I thought he was acting all ‘Mr. I can do it’.

                                “What do you need my help for?” I asked.

                He popped his head out. “My Special Research project.” He replied.

                I stared at him surprisingly. “Plumbing? I had no idea…” I said, with a smile.

                He wore a grimace. “Very funny, Ms.” He stretched.

                                “Kim…Kimberly” I replied, chuckling. “I just knew you needed me for something.”

                He put in the new pipe and screwed it tightly. “I need Kim Banks. She has this article that I intend to take a cue from.”

                I nodded. “I suppose you got it from Old Rodger.” I said, clasping my hand on my lap. “All you have to do is read it.”

                                “Kim, it’s not that easy to decipher why a lady would want to get her heart broken, every lady avoids that. So, tell me how you want me to present that to my faculty.”

                I smiled. “Oh…well, we might have to look into that on a free day for both of us. What university do you go to?”

                He cleared his throat as though he was about to present a speech. Well, he did it in style. “The University of Lagos.”

                                “Really?” I said, getting two glasses. “Do you care for some Juice?” I asked, getting the Juice from the Refrigerator. He nodded in the affirmative. “Here you go.”

                He smiled. “Thank you. In that case, I would love to request for an interview with you, just to make my work more standard.” He took his seat. “So, what do you do?” he asked. “What University?”

                                “I am a graduate of Economics from UNILAG (short form for University of Lagos)”

                He almost spilled his drink. “You are out of the University?” I nodded. “Unbelievable. You look so…young!”

                                “Well, I am young.” I replied.

                He smiled. “And beautiful too.” I stared at him, and he grinned. “Okay, I think you are good for age, but why Economics?” he asked.

                I shrugged. “It’s Profession, writing is Passion.” I lied. ‘Economics is profession, Writing is passion!’ had become my favorite response when asked about my course preference. I couldn’t tell strangers about my parent’s influence. Only close friends knew. Henry took a deep breath and he dropped his empty glass on the kitchen table. “Want another?”

                                “Nah…I am just wowed by you.”

                My phone rang again. Ben…again. I ignored it. The call came in for the second time… still I ignored it.

                                “Boyfriend? You aren’t gonna answer?” he asked.

                I shook my head. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a friend, but I don’t want to talk to him.”

                He nodded. “I wonder how I would feel if I got that treatment from my girlfriend” he caught my expression. “I mean, my friend.”

                                “Ben isn’t my boyfriend.” I retorted. “So, tell me Henry, how’s UNILAG these days?”

                He smiled. “As good as ever, so how’s the job market?”

                I cleared my throat. “There are really no jobs out there, anyway, when do you think we could meet?” I asked. Henry was getting too comfortable, I had to usher him out.

                He took to his feet. “Probably next week, can I get your phone number?” he asked, bringing out his phone. I collected it and typed the number. “Thank you.” he said and walked out.

 

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                Marcus rubbed his hand on his forehead and slid into the backseat of Ini’s Murano car. “Done! Are you sure about this?” she had packed the car behind the agency.

                She laughed out loud. “You just said done, it means that’s over. Where’s that cream anyway?” she asked, stretching out her hand. Marcus placed Shola’s cream on her hand. “She really does go for the best, this is French.”

                Marcus jumped into the front seat. “Let’s get out of here.” He suggested.

                She scoffed. “Don’t be a chicken, Marcus. Let’s wait till we hear a loud scream at least, then we are sure that Shola has killed her skin.”

                He hissed and shot at her. “The only reason why I got as close at the bathroom without being noticed is because I had to dress like a cleaner,” he started, throwing his face cap at her. “What if we are caught? Look Ini, we can always hear about this on the news or through friends in the agency, but we can’t risk being found out. Just start the car.”

                Ini hissed. “Marcus, there’s this satisfaction that I would get here and now if Shola Jones rubs that cream on her body now, hearing it later would be stale, let’s just be patient. She should be out of the bathroom by now.” She said, looking at her wristwatch.

                Marcus kept looking out of the car. “Ini, this agency is full of security men, we would be finished if we are found out.”

                Ini grew out of patience and yelled. “That’s it Marcus! It’s either you get out and run or you stay here and wait, but remember if you run, you are a suspect and I would deny you!”

                He fidgeted and took his hand off the car lock. “How did I ever get stuck with you?” he said, silently.

                She laughed and kissed his cheek. “Be a man, Marcus!”

                                “There’s no way we are going to hear Shola scream. The bathroom is not close to this place. We would find out eventually.

                Ini slammed her hand on the steering and drove off.

 

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