Heaven arrived at the hotel some minutes past the agreed time. Inside, her eyes almost came out off their sockets in surprise and wonder. The hotel was huge, its architecture and designs amazing like one of those hotels she saw in the movies. The air cold and filled with a strong smell of a rose flower. The tiles on the floor were polished, cleaned that it reflected her image. The ceiling far from reach, beautifully decorated with fine burnished wood. Beautiful flower verses with African ancient drawings were placed at strategic corners of the reception.
Lost at the middle, looking around, her eyes met that of the receptionist in glasses who flashed a welcoming smile. As she walked straight to the pretty lady she wondered why receptionists are always on glasses. Before she could provide an answer to the thought she was in front of her.
"This place is marvellous," she said returning her smile.
"Thanks". Then she raised her glasses up before saying "You look amazing in that blue tea-gown" with a weak grin on her lips.
Heaven blushed, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you... I thought no one noticed".
''I certainly did. Am Mercy and what can I do for you this beautiful evening?"
"Am here to see my boyfriend Peter" she smiled. It felt really good to finally call him that for the first time.
"Mr Peter has booked a room?" Mercy asked with eyes pinned on the computer screen in search for his name.
"Yes"
"Please, what is his second name? I have more than one Mr Peter here" she removed her stare from the computer and rested them on her. Heaven forced a smile and quickly buried her face in her handbag. It dawned on her that she doesn't know her said boyfriend's surname.
"Just a moment please," she said through her teeth. She hurriedly brought out her phone, went to the credit alert but to her disappointment, it was just the account number of the creditor that was displayed. She was about calling him when she heard Mercy asking "When did he book the room?"
"I really don't know but it should be today"
"Alright, then he must be Mr Peter Solomon. He booked online by 3 pm today".
"Yes", she said nodding like a lizard that just fell off an Iroko tree. "Solomon is his surname".
"If he is the one, then it is room sixty-six and this is the door card". The receptionist handed over the card to her. "It is on the last floor, the last room on your left".
"Thank you very much"
"You are welcome. And hey; he shouldn't forget this night in a hurry" she said with a raised eyebrow.
Heaven giggled "We won't in a lifetime, I will make sure of that," she said slowly cat-walking away. If only she knew how true those words were.
She got to the room, slid the card through the slot, the door went sideways. Inside, it came back together. She stopped dead in stunned silence, marvelling at the beauty, size and the luxuriousness of the room. It was far bigger than the living room of her parents. The room was like a perfect magazine cover with bright colours on the wall. The bed was king-sized with pure white Egyptian cotton sheets.
Above the bed, hanging on the wall was a black and white photograph of a nude pretty lady with warm and welcoming eyes. She sat on a handless chair with legs wide open, a red guiltier to cover her privates and dark stars covering her nipples. Opposite on the wall hung a forty-inch flat-screen Television.
On the other side of the room was a sprawling leather sofa with a burnished glass stool in front of it. On the stool was a little collection of wines, champagnes with wine glasses for two. The room was clean to the point of sterility. The white curtains were linen, the kind of white that is not touched by hands and free of dust. The floor covered in finished tile, dark and free of either dust or clutter.
Marc Antony's "You are my Angel" played softly in the background with the scent of cilantro in the cold air. She shuddered to think about how much it might cost a night.