Author’s note: Happy new year guys. I apologize for this very overdue post. This story wasn’t meant to be continued until I fell in love with the characters. So much has been happening. I passed my ACCA which is exciting for me because if all goes well I’ll be an affiliate by December. This is me with no accounting background at all. Ha!. I’m also working on a book. (I’m really pushing myself with that one. Lol). My workload has tripled but I’m working on being consistent this year. Please stick with me. I’ll try to be faithful (also working on resolving all commitmentphobia 😊). I know these author notes are a bit Wattpad (<– my favorite app in the world ) but I like to have conversations with my readers so please leave a comment. See picture of Oliver Rousteing who I think is beautiful, sexual orientation or not.
Even though she had been involved with Dimeji for three months she had never gotten to know Kitan as other than Dimeji’s best friend. He had intrigued her from the first time they met at TGAS and she would even admit to some sparks simmering just beneath her tightly-held self control.
But she would never have acted on those sparks.
Kitan had just seemed to take a backseat the moment Dimeji and herself became an item. Why? She wanted to ask.
For all she knew this could all be a game between Kitan and Dimeji. Who could break her heart even more? So far Dimeji was winning.
She remembered seeing pictures of Dimeji’s honeymoon in Mauritius on Instagram. Dimeji’s wife (oh how the word annoyed her), Aramide Bankole had a private profile on Instagram but Trust had created a dummy account with which she stalked her. If she had thought the girl was not that pretty on her wedding day, she could attest to her unprettiness even more after stalking her for weeks now. Her Instagram posts were always taken from an angle and if it wasn’t for expensive weaves and great filter she doubted Aramide would have the 1500 followers she currently had. One thing she could acknowledge though was that she had a nice body. She had the body of an athlete and was constantly putting up pictures of her vegetarian meals. It made Trust want to gag every time.
Give me meat any day and any time. Trust thought to herself. And then chided herself. Maybe that’s why any weight I gain settles around my hips.
She was very conscious of her weight. She was big-boned and had what her friends had always called a characteristic Iyabo arse.
She was currently sitting at the Office, the trendy new lounge at Four Points by Sheraton. She smoothed the edge of her new dress, a hasty buy which Nini had convinced her made her look sophisticated. She wore a sleek bob thanks to her hairdresser Patrick who could make even Chocolate weave look Brazilian.
She battled the urge to glance at her watch again while wondering what had possessed her to show up to this rendezvous.
When Kitan had called her asking to meet up she had been hostile to him over the phone. However Nini had convinced her to just lend him an ear.
She smoothed the edge of her dress again, a nervous habit, and took a tentative sip of her mojito. It was only 5pm but she had a feeling she might need something stronger.
She had never felt more self conscious than she did. Her heart beat quickened when she saw someone she assumed was the manager making a beeline for her.
“Good evening Ma”
“Good evening” she responded warily.
“Are you waiting for someone in particular?” He asked in that ingratiating tone attendants often used.
A frown creased Trust’s forehead.
“Excuse me. Why are you asking?”
Her alarm bells had gone off. They were easily set off. Sadly they hadn’t earned her about Dimeji.
Focus Trust. She told herself. She looked at the manager again, taking in his countenance. He was not about to deliver good news.
Could he tell that she didn’t belong here? She wondered.
“The lounge has a policy of not letting unaccompanied ladies sit here”
“Excuse me!” her voice took on a high note. “What kind of rubbish policy is that?”
“I don’t make the policies ma’am. Can you please just go?”
Trust bristled. Iyabo would have unleashed fire and brimstone on then but she was Trust now. Trust was cultured and would never raise her voice above 60 decibels.
Oh shuck it!
“Oga what kind of rubbish policy is this? Where is your superior? I want to talk to your boss” she said angrily.
“Madam calm down. There’s no point making a scene”
Trust nearly exploded with anger.
“What…”she began but sputtered to halt.
“Is there a problem here?”
She turned towards Kitan, surprised that she hadn’t heard him approach.
She watched the manager’s demeanor change to that of deference and gritted her teeth at his duplicitous attitude.
“No problem at all, sir” the manager said smilingly. “Welcome to The Office. Would you like anything?”
“I’d like to sit if that’s okay unless you think you’re better company for the lady” he said in that deep baritone of his.
Trust thought fleetingly of how much she liked his sarcasm. Then remembered that she should be angry with him.
The manager took a step back mumbling an apology to both Kitan and Trust. He disappeared back to the bar, signaling a waiter to attend to them.
Trust looked back at Kitan only to find him grinning devilishly.
“You’re late” Trust said simply.
“I know. I’m sorry, Iyabo. I had an impromptu meeting with these investors I’ve been chasing for a while. I was so excited that they finally called back…”
“You’re still late” she cut him off. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t even know why I’m here” she started to rise.
“Babe, I’m sorry”
Iyabo/Trust had finally had it. “I’m not your babe. And my name is Trust. Just stop with the I can see right to your soul act” she snapped.
“But what if I really can see right to your soul?” He said grinning impishly.
She scowled at him. “That’s not funny”
He shrugged. “I know. But you bring out the wisecracking in me. Let me show off”
She nearly smiled but she bit her lips instead.
“I’m leaving anyway” she said rising from her seat.
“Why?” He asked, a frown marring his handsome face.
“I just…the manager kind of insulted me before you came. He said I was unaccompanied and had to leave”
“You’re joking” Kitan said laughing.
“No I’m not. If I was a man drinking alone now , I’d never have been accosted like that. How unfair!” She said passionately then realizing that her voice was rising she exhaled.
“I’m going to give that manager a good talking to” Kitan mumbled his accent thickening as his nose flared angrily.
She placed a hand over his without thought. “Let’s just go somewhere else” she insisted.
“Okay. ” he agreed.
Just as they rose,they were stopped in their tracks by squeals.
“Kit!!!” The lady said excitedly as she rushed at Kitan nearly knocking Trust off balance.
Kitan turned to grin at the newcomer and was enveloped in arms and Chanel No. 5.
Trust took in the woman with her expensive weave and well manicured nails. Her accent was refined and exotic. Even in the humid evening, her makeup was faultless. Trust wondered if she had sweat pores and if her perfectly contoured nose was the work of a makeup artist or ardently watched YouTube videos.
Listening to her and Kitan exchange pleasantries was like watching a foreign movie with no subtitles. Kitan’s brogue had become more pronounced while she gestured like a maestro.
She had been caught up staring at the off-white Hermes Birkin bag hanging from her arm before she realized both Kitan and the woman were staring at her.
“I was just introducing you two. Sade meet Iya..” Trust glared at him. “Iyabo. Iyabo meet Sade”
“Good to meet you Iyabo” Sade asked in her perky Southeast British accent. “I best be going then. It was splendid running into you Kit. Please send my love to Dimeji”
And with that Sade was off.
“Who was she?” Trust asked.
Kitan looked at her from a corner of his eye. “Why? Are you jealous?”
“More like angry. My name is Trust. I have the affidavit to prove it ”
Kitan chuckled. “Family friend slash ex-girlfriend. And your parents didn’t name you Trust”
“Wait! That’s your ex-girlfriend!” She said in surprise. “And you want to marry me?” She added, her voice tinged with skepticism.
Kitan chuckled. “Well, I had to get your attention somehow”