As we walked, I couldn't shake off Ebuka's words: "You're one of Damola's girls." Is Damola really a player? Everything he did in the store room felt genuine, but I couldn't help but wonder if he was just pretending.
We didn't talk much as we ate, but we kept stealing glances at each other. I admired his angelic features, but it hurt to think that other girls had been with him. I wanted to be the first to have him, just like he was the first to have me.
But I wasn't ready for a relationship, and trust was a major issue for me. I looked at him, and he caught my eye, so I quickly looked away.
"It's getting late, I should go," I said, closing my food container.
"Oh, but can't you stay a little longer?" Damola asked, standing up.
"I don't want to waste your time and distract you from work."
"No, I close early on Fridays."
I tried to escape, but now he had my attention. "I'll just go get my things and walk you home," Damola said, heading into the store room.
As we walked, I admired the buildings and listened to music playing from an old-school bar. Children danced to Michael Jackson's "You Rock My World," and I couldn't help but laugh.
Damola took my hand, but I quickly pulled it away and continued walking. He grabbed my hand again, pulling me to a corner by a supermarket.
"Let me go!" I struggled to break free.
"There's something on your mind, and I want to know what it is," Damola said, his eyes intense.
I tried to escape, but he held me firm. "You don't like me?" he asked, his voice soft.
I paused, then continued struggling. "Fine, I like you!" I admitted, and he released me.
"Why have you been acting strange?" he asked, moving closer.
I looked away, unsure of how to answer. "You don't trust me?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
I couldn't respond, so I just looked down.
Damola took a step closer and raised my chin. "I have no other girl right now, I have just you. Trust me."
But how could I trust him? He was a beautiful guy with perfect features, and cute guys like him always had multiple girls.
"Okay, let's hang out for now, and when you feel you can trust me, we can go into a relationship," Damola suggested.
The idea seemed perfect, but what if he met another girl in the process? I felt insecure and confused.
"Okay, that's perfect," I said, smiling.
"Best friends?" Damola asked, offering his hand for a handshake.
I looked down at his hand, and we shook on it.
As we continued our walk, Damola told me a spooky story about an abandoned house. I was laughing when a car zoomed in front of us and stopped abruptly.
I was terrified, dropping my bag and clinging to Damola. When I opened my eyes, I was relieved to find we were still alive.
The car looked like James's, and I wasn't surprised when Davis stepped out of the driver's seat. I cursed him, furious.
"Are you out of your mind?!" I shouted. "If you were planning to kill me, you should have left me in the slump to rot!"
Damola remained calm, which only made me angrier. "We were just about to get killed, and you're not saying anything?"
Davis interrupted, "Ma'am, we need to go."
I stared at Damola, then at Davis, before getting into the car and slamming the door. Davis drove us home in silence.
As soon as the car stopped in front of the house, I flung open the door and sprinted out. I burst through the gate, almost pushing the gateman aside, and muttered a hasty apology. My anger propelled me forward as I opened the front door and locked it behind me.
Mama wasn't in the parlor, probably asleep in her room. I tiptoed past, not wanting to disturb her. But as I entered my own room, I was met with a shock. James sat on my bed, his eyes fixed on his watch.
"7 pm," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "What took you so long?"
I froze, my heart racing. James's expression was unreadable, but his stillness sent shivers down my spine. I tried to think of an excuse, but my mind was a blank.
"I didn't allow you to leave, and you forcefully did!" James's voice rose, his anger simmering just below the surface.
I took a deep breath and tried to deflect his anger. "Was that why you sent Davis to kill me? If you wanted to kill me, why did you rescue me from the slump in the first place?"
James's eyes widened in surprise. "Kill you?!" he exclaimed. "Why would I kill you?"
I pressed on, trying to keep the upper hand. "Davis takes orders from you, doesn't he? Didn't you tell him to hit me with his car?"
James's expression changed from anger to shock. He stood up, his eyes locked on mine. "Make sure you eat," he said curtly. "I'll talk to you later." With that, he turned and walked out of my room, slamming the door behind him.
I let out a sigh of relief. "What a weird man."
Meanwhile, James confronted Davis at his house. "You almost killed her?!" James yelled, his anger boiling over.
Davis cowered on his knees. "No, boss."
James's expression turned icy. "So she's lying now?" he asked, his voice dripping with menace.
Davis hesitated before speaking. "She was with a guy, boss."
James's mood shifted from anger to calculation. He sat down in a chair, his eyes narrowing. "The same guy?" he asked, his voice low and deadly.
Davis nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, sir. Damola".
A knock on my door woke me up from a deep sleep. I groggily checked my phone and saw that it was 8 am. I wasn't ready to get up yet, so I closed my eyes and tried to drift back to sleep. However, the person knocked again, and I knew it wasn't Mama because she wouldn't knock twice.
"Who is it?!" I yelled, but there was no response. I sighed and closed my eyes again. "So you don't want to talk? Spend your entire day there then," I muttered.
Just then, James walked into my room. "I was being a gentleman by knocking, but now I guess I'll enter without knocking," he said with a smirk.
I sat up in bed, feeling annoyed. "Would it kill you to just mention your name?" I asked.
James chuckled. "I do what I want, Sandra. Now get up."
I buried my head in my arms. "Why?" I mumbled.
"Aren't you hungry?" James asked.
"Sleep comes first," I replied.
James lifted me up. "No, food comes first."
I struggled free from his grasp. "Don't touch me!" I yelled.
James raised an eyebrow. "Why?" he asked.
"Because I said so," I replied, standing up and storming into the bathroom.
James called out after me, "Food is ready. Come out when you're done."
I took my shower and got dressed, but just as I was about to head out, my phone rang. It was Damola.
"Hey, paddie mi," he said, using the affectionate term that meant "my friend."
I felt a pang of disappointment that he didn't call me "Princess" like he usually did.
"Hi, what's up?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
Damola asked if he could come over, but I told him I had a guest at home. We exchanged a few more words before he hung up.
I walked out of my room, feeling a bit down. James was waiting for me in the dining area.
"There she is," he said, smiling.
Mama was already seated, and Cassie, Davis, and the other guards were standing by the door. I greeted everyone, but James noticed that I didn't greet him.
"I don't think you're done greeting everyone," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
I rolled my eyes and greeted him, but I could tell he was trying to get a rise out of me.
As we sat down to eat, I invited Cassie, Davis, and the guards to join us. However, they hesitated, clearly intimidated by James.
I tried to persuade them, but they wouldn't budge. That's when Mama stepped in and asked James to let them join us. James reluctantly agreed, and soon we were all eating together.
As we finished our meal, James announced that we would be going to the beach that day. Mama agreed to come along, but I was hesitant.
"I'm expecting somebody over," I said, trying to think of an excuse.
However, James was insistent. "We'll go out first, with Mama," he said.
Mama chimed in, "Yes, it'll be nice to have you along, Sandra."
I knew I was beaten. James had a way of getting what he wanted, and Mama was always on his side.
"Whatever," I said, getting up from the table.
James smiled, triumphant. "So, Sandra, go and get ready. We leave in thirty minutes."
I trudged back to my room, feeling defeated.