Money is in The Mouth of the Lion

I picked up my iPhone, staring at the screen to be sure I had had no missed calls while bathing. It had become my custom to check the phone constantly like this, hoping for a call or message from the senator that had requested my number the other day, and not wanting to miss it when it finally came.

There was none.

I was sad and worried. What could have happened? Had the aide forgotten to save my number? Had the senator decided I wasn’t worth contacting? All the trouble I went through to get noticed by him couldn’t go in vain.

I dressed up and exited my one-bedroom apartment for the salon. I had a date with an Instagram big boy I met online the day before, and needed to prepare for it.

My hair was being washed when my phone began to ring. For a moment, for some reason, I forgot about the call I was waiting for. I just picked the phone and said ‘hello’. No response. Who is this one that doesn’t want to talk? “Hello?” I said again, almost shouting now.

“I am Jeff, PA to Senator…”

I snapped off my seat the moment I heard ‘senator’. The water the hairdresser was rinsing my hair with poured all over my back, but I didn’t care. I rushed out of the salon, seeking a quieter place to receive the call.

“Yes. Yes, I can hear you. Good afternoon,” I said eagerly.

“Senator would like to see you today at 6pm. Send an address you can be picked up at to this number,” I was told. No questions on my availability. But was I mad? Even if I had twenty things to do at that time I would clear them off.

“Okay, I will do that.”

“Please ensure you are ready at 6pm,” I was told, and the line went off.

Wow! Senator has finally reached out!

I couldn’t believe it. I felt like dancing, screaming and jumping in the air all at once. But I did none of those. As a big girl, I have to comport myself with dignity always, especially now that I was about to become a biggest girl, a mistress of one of the senators of the Federal Republic of Nigeria!

I cancelled my date with the online big boy and started preparing instead for the date with Senator. I went home and spent a full two hours trying to decide what to wear. I needed something sexy yet dignified; I needed to look like a million bucks but with a whole lot of sex appeal! Finally, I found what would work, a silk and lace jumpsuit that would show off my curves and cleavage, but at the same time make me look elegant.

Then I went off to a make-up studio for a proper face beat. I was all out to impress and ensure that the Senator wouldn’t, for any reason, regret his decision to invite me over.

As early as 5.30pm, I was fully ready, just waiting to be picked up. My eyes kept oscillating between my Michael Kors wrist watch and the face of my phone.

At 6.03pm, my phone rang. I picked it speedily. It was the voice of the man that had called earlier; the P.A.

“Your ride is waiting outside the address you sent,” he informed me.

“Okay, okay.” I quickly exited my flat.

Outside, there was a black Peugeot 508 saloon car with tinted glasses waiting. Man, see levels. I did not need a psychic to tell me that was my ride. I walked right to it, got in and the car drove away.

I did not ask questions about where we were going to, instead I looked out of the window and saw that we were headed for the Island. Soon we arrived at our destination. It was one of those big, classy apartment buildings in Ikoyi that look like hotels, have numerous security at the gate and usually have ‘Court’ ending their names.

The driver parked at the building’s underground parking lot and made a call. In a short while, someone came down to pick me. “Welcome, ma’am,” he said to me. “Please come with me.” It was the same voice I had spoken to on the phone earlier.

I followed him into the lift and was dumbfounded when the lift stopped right inside an apartment, if apartment is even the word I can use for the large opulent abode. The apartment had its own lift!

“Do make yourself comfortable. The Senator would be with you in time,” the PA informed me and disappeared back into the lift.

A steward came to ask what I would like to drink and what meal they could prepare for me. “Anything. Anything at all,” I stuttered in response, overwhelmed by everything. I looked around the room I was in, a sitting room as big as an event hall, and drank in the high class white and gold furnishing with amazed eyes. Everything looked and smelled of money, bastard money.

Chai, Kira, you have made it, I whispered to myself. Meeen… babes, we die here o.

The Story Continues>>>Part 2


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