CHEF 26 by Ojeiwa Ojeabu Omo- Episode 11


Kaima’s apartment was looking as blue as she was earlier in the day, soft jazz was playing out of the DVD that was connected to her home theatre, she turned off the lights, leaving a solitary candle as the source of illumination. The living room was ordered in chaos, her apartment had lost its immaculate look. She sat on the white rug with a bottle of Jack Daniels and some ice. The slight sadness she was experiencing earlier at the office had suddenly gained some weight and had now entered into full scale depression. She poured more alcohol from the bottle into the glass adding some ice too, as she swirled the liquid in her hand before emptying some of it into her mouth.

Coming from a family of four children, her been the only girl, she was shepherded by three men; her brothers, adding her father to the list would make it four and all the men in her home were alcoholics. However, what she admired about that habit of theirs was how she never saw or caught any of them drunk or vulnerable from booze.

The cold air from the air conditioner wrapped her apartment in the harshest of winters, yet she seemed not to feel it’s effect, maybe because the Jack Daniels was keeping her warm or may be because the rage that was brewing inside of her was hot enough to keep her warm. Images of the female stranger who was keeping Damilare occupied at Cynthia’s family and friends’ reunion sprawled out in her head like a portrait. She tried to shred the picture out of her mind, but it wouldn’t shred, like a boomerang, it kept coming back.The emotional pain it was causing her was worse than that of the physical stab of a knife in the back.

There was a noise coming from somewhere in her apartment, she tried to listen attentively in order to decipher where the faint sound was coming from, she smiled when she realised it was her cell phone that was ringing. The alcohol was messing with her head and doing a good job at keeping her miserable, lazy and happily depressed. She got up, slightly wobbling as she steadied herself and walked towards the direction of her cell phone. Kaima rescued her phone from underneath one of the furniture in her living room, without looking at the caller identity, she picked;

‘Please can I call you back, I am very busy at the moment,’ Kaima said.

‘Busy? Babe open the door, I’m outside’ Cynthia replied.

Some seconds passed before Kaima opened the door, when she did, she left it open and waltzed back to meet her new best friend; ‘Jack Daniels.’ Cynthia followed suit but stopped when she noticed that Kaima’s apartment was a mess.

‘Did the hurricane pass through your apartment on its way to the Sahara desert?,’ Cynthia asked.

Kaima didn’t reply. Cynthia closed the door. She scanned the living room and shook her head a couple of times; a strawberry flavoured biscuit was scattered on the centre table, her work shoes were lying on the couch, her office clothes were on the dining table, a vanilla ice cream was melting away at the centre of the rug and a bottle of alcohol was beside Kaima.

‘Wow Kay, your apartment is a hot mess,’ She said.

‘Kay you don’t have to be like this, every girl has this one guy who turns them inside out, though I’m surprised you have feelings for Damilare.’ Cynthia said.

Kaima shot her a fierce, shriveling stare that would have scared anyone else, but not Cynthia.

‘I mean I am surprise in a good way. At first he was business, now he is business and pleasure, so what’s the problem here, hmmmm, let’s see, you’ve gotten him as a business but you haven’t secured him as a pleasure.’ Cynthia pointed out in the most dramatic fashion.

‘But sweetheart you know you can get him by just telling him how you feel.’ She added.

‘What! Tell him how I feel! Are you nuts?!’ Kaima screamed.

‘O thank God, for a moment I thought you had gone dumb, it’s a miracle you’re finally saying something.’ Cynthia added in a mocking tone as she stretched out her hands and raised her face to the ceiling.

Kaima smiled.

‘Aha! There it is. That devilish, sexy, sweet sensational smile, Kay you’re going to get Damilare, it’s just a matter of time.’ Cynthia sympathised.

‘How can I get him when there is competition?’ Kaima protested.

“Competition! From whom?” Cynthia asked surprised, folding her arms.

‘From the chic we saw him with at the get together.’ Kaima answered.

‘Really Kay! That is your competition? How is she your competition? Am sure they were just talking.’

‘Just talking!” Kaima snapped, “that wasn’t just talking Cyndy, she was offering him more than talk; I’d say if there was a bed and a room available, they would have being doing more than talking.’

‘Kay! How can you say that?’ Cynthia asked.

‘Lol, it’s the truth Cynthia. And you Know it.’ Kaima replied.

‘Babe, stop being paranoid and fix a date with Dre if you really think you are into him. Throw in the bit about liking him if you must while you are at it would you?!’ Cynthia added in a tone Aunt Cecelia characteristic tone.

Haughtiness really did run in that family, Kaima thought to herself and gave Cynthia another of her cold stares.

‘What?! It’s okay to have a boy toy, you know. A little play thing to ease the tension.’ Cynthia added jokingly.

‘Who said anything about me wanting to make him my boy toy? I don’t want that, I want more than that.’ Kaima replied.

Cynthia gasped! Clasping her hands on her open mouth in mock surprise.

‘O my, do we have a Juliet here?!’ Cynthia questioned.

‘No. It’s just ironic that I deal with a wealthy board filled with mostly men, I do presentations that make them sign cheques in millions and sometimes in billions, and I know how to win their approval when it comes to investing in multi-million Naira projects. But here I am, nursing feelings for someone I just met, and I can’t even tell him how I feel. I just don’t get it Cyndy, I just don’t get it.” She started to cry as she planted her face on Cynthia’s shoulders.

“It’s okay love,” Cynthia said rubbing Kaima’s back gently like a mother patting her child.

………to be continued

Genre: Nigerian Romance/Fiction


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