“You like to ask, I like to observe and know,” I replied swiftly as I brought out disposable wet wipes to clean my hands.
She raised an eyebrow at me, and I silently offered her to take one too, but she declined with a shake of her head.
“By the way, are you coming with us tonight? It’s mandatory,” she asked out of the blue.
The guys in our batch of orientation suggested going out to celebrate, especially since it was Friday. Actually, it was a done deal, and just another chance to hang out, and I suspected sniff out the competition.
“Sure, if you are going to be there,” I affirmed in determination to make an effort, even though I’d have preferred to have been home alone, enjoying the company of myself.
“It helps create a sense of camaraderie. Especially since we will be working around and with each other,” she added with assurance, obviously having observed that my decision was more resigned than enthusiastic.
“I am not anti-social,” I said with a smile, humouring her observation.
“Really?” She asked sarcastically, and with a raised eyebrow.
I laughed. “Okay, maybe a little. But I’m working on it. After all, I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Grande, because I was hoping we could be friends, and I love a good night out. Moreover, there’s a special place in hell for women who don’t support each other by having a good night together.”
“I can’t argue with that,” I agreed with a chuckle.
“Good. And by the way, you could just give me your address, and I would come to pick you up as part of the welcome to London package,” she offered with too much fervour.
I didn’t correct her assumption that I was wholly a novice in London. But I did frown a little, wondering how she came to the conclusion.
“It’s the way you look around. It’s like you are still trying to drink the scenery in,” she explained.
“I was thinking I had it written on my forehead,” I stated, realising she was right. I had never gotten to appreciate London since my brother and I were too busy keeping my visits clandestine. I quickly got out a pen and a post-it card and scribbled it down for her, so she would not sense any holding back.
“Damn, you are so lucky; you live so close to work, and gosh, your handwriting is a calligraphic beauty,” she said without spite.
I shrugged. The way she looked at me made me guess that she expected me to ask where she lived. But I wasn’t going to; I’d instead let her offer up that information, which I was sure she would.
With an easy-going eye roll, she did just that. “I am staying in Knightsbridge till I can get something closer, and thanks for asking,” she finished with a slight pout.
That got me quirking my eyes; even I knew the kind of place Knightsbridge was. I was curious about her, but I said nothing, despite that I knew she was frustrated with how un-forthcoming and un-inquisitive I was. Well, barring the blunder of asking about her cultural background within one minute of speaking with her.
With a moan, she spoke, “You really don’t give up much, do you?” After-which, she curtly replied to the waiter who cleared our table and asked if we wanted the bill.
“I like you, and I’m trying, and I’ll try harder, okay? Moreover, we just met.”
She studied me before saying, “okay, fair enough.”
And so I tried. “What’s the name of the club for tonight?”
With a low clap of hands, she replied, clearly happy with my inquisition. “That’s the spirit; I talked to the other guys, and we….”
“Hold up, when did you speak to them?” I asked in surprise.
“A little before you arrived.”
“But I was there early,” I defended, although not as early as I would have preferred.
“We were there earlier,” she affirmed with a shrug and continued. “I have this friend who is a promoter at the club, and he let me know that the owner is going to be in today, and I thought, what a way to snag that hotshot.”
“You are joking, right? You reside in Knightsbridge, and I’m sure it’s not short of those.”
“Okay, okay, I’m pulling your leg. But my source said he was going to be there, and he’s not bad to look at, as are all the other hot guys and men there.”
I scoffed. It was obvious that she was going to be a bad influence on me, and I loved it. “Don’t you have a boyfriend to keep your mind in check?” I inquired in amusement.
“I just broke up with mine, Jayce actually,” she answered while avoiding eye contact.
I blinked in surprised, Jayce was one of the guys from the orientation.
“Okay.” It was all I said to the big reveal.
She chuckled. “Just okay? You aren’t going to press for more information? I can see the curiosity falling off your eyes.”
I did say I’d try even though it was getting awfully too personal. “I’ll bite. Tell me all that you are obviously burning to tell me.”
She grinned. “'Let us order more drinks so that we don’t look like we are hoarding their tables. That is if you want; I don’t know if you have any other plan, seeing as we won’t be resuming work till Monday.”
She was right, and our assigned waiter was narrowing his eyes at us. And so, cocktails we got.
“I dumped him recently because my dad kind of blackmailed me into doing so. He’s always disapproved of my dating choice because I’ve never dated one of ours. His version of it at least.”
I scrunched my face, not at all grasping what she meant by her last words.
“He is not a light-skinned Latino,” she explained, her voice dropping an octave.
My mouth did a big ‘O’ without any sound coming out. I did not know that it could be an issue, but again, I was ignorant of such matters. Moreover, even Nigerians found it hard marrying other Nigerians from different ethnicity or tribes, so I did get it after all. I just didn’t expect such narrow mindedness from parents who raised such an social butterfly.
“You know for once I appreciate how you don’t pry because…” she paused. “You know what, let’s drop it and get the bill.” She wore a very fake smile as she spoke.
We had hit a very raw and sensitive subject, and who was I to push even an inch?
It was no surprise that it saw the end of lunch as we went our separate ways, acknowledging that we would see each other later on.
Chapter 3
It was around eight pm when my house phone, which connected to the entrance bell rang.
“Who is it?” I asked on answering.
“It’s Evelina. Let me in, please?” She asked, her arrival earlier than expected. I waited in front of my door to let her in, and spotting me as she came out of the elevator, she waved. “Hello.”
I smiled. I was happy with myself, proud and pleased. I invited someone I just met into my home. Impulsive and even reckless to some, but for someone like me who had very few friends, it was a monumental step.
“I would totally hug you, but that would be too forward, wouldn’t it?” She asked with a squint. I nodded, chuckling at her rhetoric question. I found that her kind of instant and fast-tracked familiarity did not send me running for the hills.