Like the vapor trailed the atmosphere, she varnished before the morning light. The feeling she left behind was electrifying, estranging, and befriending. The emotions? A muddy river of joy and sorrow.
Sandra was her name, the lady that shone the light of her brilliance on his darkness of ignorance.
He was a married man with two children, a girl of eight and a boy of five. His wife was a yardstick used in measuring beauty. She possessed things in the right proportion, which was why he married her. But after two children, the frontage was no longer pointing straight up but downwards. Though the back kept enlarging, his fascination with his wife weaned.
Did I tell you that he’s a busy man? Did I? Oh, he runs a company that transcends states and his business associates are scattered around the world. As the CEO, his work required traveling, sometimes alone or with his secretary. On some of the tours with his secretary, the secretary ate from his pot of soup and the CEO’s center forward visited her goalpost a couple of times and even plotted to replace his wife.
On the tours he did alone, he found solace in the bosom of the pleasure providers close to his hotel. It was on one of his visits to port Harcourt that he met Sandra.
He had driven down from Lagos. He preferred driving to sitting duck behind the driver.
On getting to Port Harcourt Friday evening, he lodged into his hotel room, a suite his secretary had booked a hand. He was exhausted, that he slept off while having his best food combo; fisherman pepper soup, and yam with peppered snails.
His waking moment was the sun’s debut with a glowing smile that filtered into his room through the windows. He twirled, tossed then turned before a yawn confirmed him awake. He reached for the pillow and covered his face. Who am I deceiving? He thought as a thought surged through his mind.
Saturday! Today’s Saturday. He jumped out of his bed, realizing his meeting was slated for ten that morning. Grabbing his phone to check the time, he gasped at the digit on display. 9:05am. He moved swiftly, first to shower, second to brush, and third to prepare. Tying up his shoelace, a knock came on his door. He opened to find a waitress with his breakfast, he thanked her, devoured it, and dashed out of the hotel.
Later that evening at a club, he was hyperactive, his feet drummed on the floor to the rhythm of the song blasting through the speakers, the proposal was successful, and the first payment was already made. His hand clutched a champagne flute, a bottle was sitting atop the table before him. The noise in the club was deafening but he cared less.
As he gulped his drink in silence, someone noticed the absence of company and decided to make herself available. Sandra was her name. Her movement was lithe, she strut like a model and took his breath away. As she came closer, he was overwhelmed with hellacious excitement. Something bubbled within. She stood across from him and gave a dazzling smile.
“Hi, I’m Sandra,” she said, offering a handshake which he took, smiling sheepishly. You’d wonder if he was a kid that fell in love for the first time.
“Hello, I’m Jidenna. People call me Jide. Have a seat.”
She sat, bent a little, placing her hand on the table and allowing the adjustment of her gown to reveal her cleavages. Jide was captured; held by her spell. He snapped a finger and the waiter surfaced with another glass. They talked like they’d known each other for eons. They talked until the alcohol had them for dinner.
Feeling tipsy, They both left the club and headed to Jide’s hotel room. As they rode in the car, The song “I know who I am” by Sinach played all through. People tempt God. Sandra kept humming but once it got to the part “I know who I am” she would scream with her might. Little did he know that she genuinely meant what she said.
As he parked his car and alighted, Sandra followed suit. Jide was smart. He deals with people like her weekly. So he understood the need to be cautious. He dropped his briefcase containing; the stack of files, laptop, and chequebook with the receptionist. She received them and asked him to sign in. He did and circled Sandra’s waist with his hand, leading her upstairs before he remembered.
Letting go of Sandra, he rushed down, emptied his pocket of both his wallet, and wads of cash of around two hundred thousand to the receptionist. He left twenty thousand untouched in his pocket. For the pleasure provider. He forgot one thing or maybe chose to ignore rather. As he gave a wry smile, the lady at the counter nodded.
“No time to take chances,” he said.
“ Sure thing sir. I understand perfectly,” she said and signed them in.
Jidennna rushed upstairs and allowed himself a bath with Sandra. That was surprising to him but she did a great job satisfying him both in the bathroom and on the bed. Their raunchy bout was one with no soreness. He snored away after the exercise, his hands firmly placed on one of her Chi-Chi.
He’d wake the next morning to find no one in his room. Sandra was gone with the ecstasy she had brought. He heaved a sigh and thanked God for emptying his pocket the night before. The thought struck him, he reached for his trousers, still in his duvet, and found his twenty thousand intact.
He became restless.
What could she have taken? His phone? That was staring him in the face. His semen? Maybe that but he has a pastor, he thought and tried to put a call through when he suddenly remembered one thing. His car keys. Yes. His car keys. He reached for it but found nothing. He searched, and tossed the room but found nothing.
Dread paralyzed him. No. It can’t be. No, it can’t. He drew the curtains and looked down at where his car was packed. There! Was. No. Car! No Lexus 350 SUV.
“Jesus!” He screamed and pulled his door open, realizing he had only the duvet wrapped around him, he ran back and threw some clothes on.
As he flew down the stairs, he ran past the receptionist. He was hoping, praying, and willing that his car was there but it wasn’t. Sandra knew who she was and had moved what she came for.
His car.
© Stephen Toochi
