AMID SECRETS - CHAPTER 8
*Maduka’s POV*
I order for a bottle of Campari, which swiftly arrives. Sipping from my glass, I listen to Saheed and Jide discussed his plans to fly back to the US. I’m content with being silent, because I’m not in a chatty mood and I’m still trying to figure out lots of things.
Like who the girl before me really is.
“Do you have a new phone yet?” I asked her.
She shrugged a slender shoulder and shook her head. The small heart-shaped pendant dangling from her black velvet choker shakes and glitters in the dim light, catching my eye. My eyes stay on her throat for reasons I can’t understand.
“Babe, you lost your phone?” Saheed asked Nwanyieze. Obviously he had overheard my question.
“After you threw me into the pool, yes. I had to buy a Nokia torchlight and retrieve my SIM card,” she replied.
“Why didn’t you tell me, though? I could’ve replaced it for you immediately.”
Her frown tells me that she’s not used to people doing such things for her.
“Don’t worry about it, Saheed. I’ll get a better one soonest.”
He gave her a slow smile and she lowered her head to look at her hands. This bothers me a little because I remember that she never did that while talking to me.
“I’m going to dance,” she said, quickly getting to her feet and turning away. Saheed grabbed her wrist, and she turned back to look at him.
“Don’t be too long, Queen. I’ll be missing you.”
Nwanyieze left immediately, leaving behind the trail of her berry-scented perfume mixed with the smell of Saheed’s shisha smoke.
It almost looks like she was eager to leave.
_____
*Nwanyieze’s POV*
Why did I agree to go clubbing with him? I wondered as I climbed down the stairs. What the actual hell was I thinking?
After Saheed had asked me to be his girl at Oriental Hotel, I had politely declined. Then he’d begged that I followed him to Quilox tonight, and I’d decided to go along because it would be the last time I would ever see him again.
What was he doing now, acting like he owned me? Giving me that I-know-what-you-will-do smile when I said I would replace my phone?
Well, I plan to let him know my thoughts exactly after tonight.
Phyno and Olamide are on stage now, singing Fada Fada, one of my current favourite tracks. The song is in Igbo, Yoruba and Pidgin, a blend of languages with catchy words and an original beat.
Dancing is one of my hobbies, and so I begin to move as I know best. For now, I’ll forget Saheed, and probably forget Maduka, that tall guy who couldn’t keep his eyes off my throat.
***
*Maduka’s POV*
“Look at her,” Saheed said, looking at Nwanyieze through the glass.
She was on the dance floor, surrounded by people and yet dancing alone laughing, obviously enjoying herself. There’s something carefree about her out there, in the way she moves.
“You’re really into her, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, very.”
“What about her?” Jide asked. By now, he has a girl seated on his lap, dressed in shorts, so short I saw the lower half of her buttocks when she first walked in.
“She’s not into me. Yet,” he replied confidently. “What a shame. I would’ve changed her whole life.”
“She looks comfortable enough with this one,” I observed.
I was in no mood to dance. For the past year, I’ve gradually been losing interest in the club scene, grown tired of being with numerous girls, and cut down on my alcohol intake. That phase of my life is gradually fading.
“Jide, I’ll be leaving soon,” I tell my pal, who was so engrossed with kissing the girl straddling him.
“Now-now wey you show?” (Right now that you just arrived?)
“Come on, Kaka,” Saheed tried to persuaded me. “The fun hasn’t even started yet! The girls haven’t even arrived!”
“Girls?”
“Yeah! The lap dance girls, of course! I planned to leave with Queen, but to also leave you in the care of special chicks. These girls are the bomb,” he assured with a wink.
“That’s my guy,” Jide managed to say after prying his mouth free from the vixen atop him.
“Maybe next time, guys. I’m not feeling this turn up tonight,” I said apologetically.
I don’t know why I’m feeling strange tonight. Maybe it’s because of all the dreams and flashes of memories I’ve been having lately. This week has been an equally distracting one, and my employees had commented on my behaviour.
Saheed pats my shoulder and I do the same. I bump fists with Jide and leave the cubicle. On the ground floor, I’m able to see above almost everyone’s heads because I’m taller than average. Six feet and five inches is a height I’d never expected to achieve, and it’s something my family still jokes about till date.
With this advantage, I manage to get a glimpse of Nwanyieze when a strobe light flashes over her as she now dances to Eugy and Mr. Eazi’s Dance for me.
Outside, I inhale the fresh night air while walking to where I parked my car.
“Mads!”
I freeze, because only one person had ever called me that nickname.
“Mads!” the voice calls again.
Natasha, my ex-girlfriend.
She sashays over to where I stand, looking happy to see me.
“Fancy seeing you here!” she exclaimed, pulling my face down for a peck.
Tasha is of average height for a woman, but that still doesn’t stop her from being short enough that I have to incline my head to look at her face. She’s a voluptuous, light skinned twenty-three year old with a boisterous nature. Her accent is British, because she had been born and raised in Britain, and we met while she was doing her NYSC in Lagos two years ago.
“Same here,” I replied evenly.
“I’ve been trying to reach you, y’know. Where have you been hiding?” She playfully slapped my arm.
“I’ve been around, trust me,” I said with a smile.
“Why’re you leaving now, though?”
“I have something urgent to attend to at home,” I lied.
“Still so busy, aren’t you?”
“You know how it is.”
I have been tagged a workaholic by a lot of people. I’m trying hard to set up a cassava farm on the outskirts of Lagos, Ikorodu to be exact. It’s been a difficult journey, but there’s evident progress.
“I’m so happy to see you, Mads.” She takes a step closer, her eyes on mine.
Lord Jesus, no, please.
***
*Nwanyieze’s POV*
All the dancing makes me exhausted, and I need to use the toilet. My bladder is full, and I query myself. I h@?? using public toilets, and so I usually make it a point to empty my bladder each time before going out. This reduces the frequency of my visits to public toilets.
Tonight, however, I failed.
After asking for directions, I make my way to the ladies’ room. Afterwards, I climb the stairs and enter the cubicle where I had left Saheed and his friends. Maduka and Jide are gone, leaving Saheed smoking his shisha alone.
I sit across from him on a padded sofa.
“Tell me something, Queen,” he said after blowing a stream of smoke from his nostrils.
“Tell you what?”
“Why are you playing hard to get for me?”
“I’m not playing.”
“Do people of your calibre play hard to get? Is my offer too low, too meagre, for you?”
“I care nothing about your offer.”
“You’re like nothing I’ve ever seen, do you know that?”
I shrug. I may be a prostitute, but Saheed Bello isn’t going to ever get a piece of me even if he offers me the whole world.
He comes to sit beside me and takes my hand. “Is it because you’re still mad at me about that night, Queen?”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said with a laugh. “I don’t hold grudges.”
“Then what am I doing wrong?”
“Nothing, really. I’m just not interested in you. I don’t want to be your girl.”
To my utmost shock, Saheed leans forward and quickly crushes his lips against mine. His kiss is aggressive, fuelled with the fury he’s tried so well to hide over these past hours. I tried to push him away, but his arms are like iron bands. His tongue invades my mouth and I shudder. I bite his lower lip hard, causing him to release me.
Quickly, I get to my feet, a hand wiping my mouth.
“Why?” he demanded. “Why not me?”
“I don’t want anything from you!”
“That’s a huge lie! Everyone wants something from me!”
“Not me!” I yelled before turning and running out of the cubicle.
‘A taxi man had better be across the road right now’, I thought furiously as I stomped down the stairs and outside the building. ‘What nerve that fool has, to try and seduce me!’
I was still standing by the roadside five minutes later, hands in my pockets and looking behind me to make sure Saheed hasn’t followed me outside. No taxi in sight, so I decided to check the parking lot. Normally, private taxis are parked there, and the driver’s wait nearby. Of course, it’ll be more expensive that flagging one down by the roadside, but I was too angry to care.
I saw a familiar tall figure standing beside a dark Toyota, and I hope to God there’s no other tall person at over six feet within the vicinity. His name has three syllables, and because I don’t want him to get into his car without seeing me, I yell the shortest form that comes to my mind.
“Madi!”
_____
*Maduka’s POV*
“Oh, dear Lord,” I whisper. “Send Tasha away.”
I ignored the voice and get into my car, reviving the engine.
The voice called again as I was reversing. Someone hits the passenger window of my car and a face pressed against the glass. I was surprised to see that it’s Nwanyieze, looking utterly distressed.
“Didn’t you hear me calling you?” she demanded when I let her in.
“I thought you were someone else,” I confessed
“Your ex, I guess?”
I shrug. “What’s the problem?”
“I need a ride home.”