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Omote counted the money chief kept on the bed, it brought a smile to her face, in spite of the circumstances. She left the hotel room with a mixed feelings.
She was dialing Chief’s number several times. He had warned her via a text message, never to call him anymore.
She was happy that at least he gave her some dollars, she was sad that he was never going to see her anymore. She had learned to let things go, after all, she had lost one alhaji who had promised to give her eight million naira to start up a business.
The day she went to see the alhaji, he died on top of a call girl at the le meridian hotel in Uyo. She had to tearily join a night bus back to Lagos with her last penny.
At that time, she had promised to open a big super market for her mother in Warri.
As she stood by the hotel premises to call a cab, she remembered that Isioma’s office was close to the hotel, she dialled her number immediately.
“Baby girl.” Isioma said shrilly.
“Good morning. I am close to your shop.” Omote’s tone was low. “Do you have someone you can send for a pad for me?”
“Yes, my girl. Come over to Adegun Adebidi close VI.” Isioma said.
Omote took a cab to the shop.
It was a Mac make up studio. Decorated with foreign wall papers and chandeliers.
It had a small office in it, which was meant for the boss. As Omote alighted from the cab, she became delighted at the sight of her friend’s shop.
The two women exchanged pleasantries and hugs. Isioma noticed that Omote wasn’t looking bright.
Omote dropped into the rocking chair and leaned her head back as she rocked.
“If you see the maga wey pass me today.” she frowned and shook her head.
Isioma broke into a loud laughter.
“You never see something…” She paused and then yelled at her sales girl” Martha!”
Martha appeared in a black and white uniform. ‘The Mac studio’ was written on her badge.
“Get me a bottle of wine.” Isioma said. “Continue my dear.”
“This man gives me so much cash, you won’t believe that the first time I just said I should do, my period came.”
“Ahhhhhhaaa. Which kind thing be that now?”
Martha dropped the red wine on the table.
“leave it there. I will open it myself.” Isioma said. She snapped the wine open and poured it into two disposable cups.
“How is Roland?” Isioma asked, while handing the cup of wine to Omote. She purposely changed the topic of discussion.
“The mom wasn’t feeling too well. He is at the hospital with her.”
“Oh no. Roland really loves you. I knew you were his kind of girl, but I didn’t know he was going to love you at first sight.” Isioma said, sipping her wine.
“I think Roland and I are just friends for now. He has refused to sleep with me.”
“Haba Omor! calm down abeg. na Yankee guy him be, dem no dey rush woman. Is there someone else in your life? She asked openly. Omote nodded and took another gulp of wine down her throat.
Moments later, Isioma’s phone rang.
“This is a Scotland line, it should be my husband. he has never called with this line before.” She said, looking absolutely convinced as she placed the phone to her ears.
“Hello? Yes this is Mrs Isioma.” She said, feeling nostalgic. It was a female’s voice, and she didn’t care to ask who it was.
“What?” Isioma screamed. The phone fell off from her hands.
She looked sober.
Omote couldn’t tell what the tears in her friend’s eyes meant.
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