Guys, I love you. No, like really. It’s fun to actually share this with you. Thanks for reading always. Meanwhile, what’s everyone doing tonight? Asides reading Sugar Daddy Chronicles of course.
****
The overly stuffed, bored bitch… or something like that.
That was what happened to me after my date with my Car dealing Sugar Daddy prospect.
He had picked me up himself from Steve’s earlier and had driven me to a restaurant where he ensured I ate almost everything on the menu – from the Isi ewu to the cow leg to the fish pepper soup. He even offered me Chinese just before we left and I had to deny vehemently and then pleaded with the Waiter not to take him seriously before he was convinced there was no space left in my stomach for food.
By the time I was back in his car on our way to see his house, I felt like I had swallowed a whale… make that two.
And he seemed proud of that, he seemed proud to have fed me so much I could barely move.
His house was situated in Ikoyi, it looked grand from the gates but it also announced the owner of the house before you got to the front door.
An Igbo statue was standing in front of the well-tended lawn, a few spaces away from the entrance to the main house.
How I knew the tribe of the statue? Well, it had a red cap on his head and he was decked in traditional Igbo attire.
“I erected that when I became chief in my hometown.” He declared proudly in his heavily accented English and even patted the statue on the back as if it were human when he got down from the car.
I wanted to go home, I was tired, I was stuffed and I had severe cramps.
My period was on its way and my own PMS was different from most women’s. It simply started two weeks before and fucked my hormones up.
“I need to go home soon, Chief Igwe” I said, my hands holding my lower stomach absentmindedly.
“Home kwa?” He asked incredulously, as if he could not believe I had a home.
“I don’t feel too good.”
“You will feel good soon.” He grabbed my hand and held it firmly as if worried I would run out of the compound any opportunity I got.
I became slightly uneasy. This was clearly no gentleman. I had told him I had to go home and the only response I got was being dragged into his heavily furnished mansion.
Talking about his mansion, Dude might as well have been the Igwe of his estate – the sitting room bore different portraits of traditional rulers and the room was decorated with what I knew were expensive native materials, he pulled me along with him into another sitting room, this one smaller than the previous one but with a more striking resemblance to a Palace.
There was a chair placed on a small podium which might have as well been a throne and there was a ramp designed in gold that ran up to the throne-like structure.
Surrounding the throne were chairs which I assumed were for visitors who had come to visit this man and he even had a staff which bore a striking resemblance to a royal staff by his chair.
I chuckled. This must be a scene from an Asaba produced Nollywood movie. There was no way this was even real. Reflexively, I looked around for hidden cameras. Someone had to be capturing this moment behind a camera, I had to be an actress of some sort.
“Do you like it?” He was grinning when I faced him. Wait, he was proud of this rubbish?
“Like it?” I repeated, I was about to shake my head and tell him no when he added, “I am next to the throne in my town”
Of course he was. What other reason would he have had to design a kingdom in his own home?
I was surprised he was not the king of the entire Igbo race already sef.
“And like you know, every King needs a Queen.” His Igbo accent was very distracting, it was preventing me from hearing the real message he was passing across.
His hand which never left mine tightened on me and then his other hand brushed my face lightly, “I want you to be my Queen, Omalicha. I want you to be the Queen of my heart, the Queen of this mansion and all my mansions in Owerri and the Queen of my town.”
Huh?
He fished inside his pockets for something, then frowned when he couldn’t find it.
“Erastus!”
A young boy who couldn’t be more than seventeen ran into the room, he bowed in greeting the moment he found us and his head remained lowered as Chimezie Sk Okoli began to speak.
I wondered if he was the one who insisted to have nobody look him in the eye while he spoke to them. From the little I had gathered about him that night, he definitely was that type of man.
“Please go to my room and look for a small diamond box.” He said and Erastus was gone in a second.
“My woman, see I am not one to dilly dally or beat about the forest”
Bush, Oga. Bush. Not forest. But okay.
“And when I want something, my baby I go for it.”
He was accentuating every word, every sentence with a demonstration. His hand was demonstrating how he was “going for it” now.
“And since my wife died” his face suddenly looked sad and I realized that he might be dramatic as hell but that part of his life must have been painful, “I have never admired another woman the way I admire you. And Omalicha that is why I accosted you.”
Erastus was back with the diamond box now, he handed it over to his boss quickly and once again, he was gone before I could blink.
Chimezie opened the box and I gasped in shock despite myself.
There, sitting in the diamond box was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen.
“I want to marry you, Lolo. Please marry me back.”
***
My period had saved me from my first marriage proposal and the awkwardness that followed.
Somehow, as I wondered what the appropriate response would be to Chimezie and his expensive ring, my cramps had intensified and I had felt the first blood of my period drop in my pant.
I hadn’t been lying when I had said to him, “Please I have to go. I have pains. My period.”
He’d let his Driver drop me off so I could “consider the proposal”.
As if I had not been in enough shock, where was the time to consider any proposal?
Beht wait o, how did that happen? What was going on? I could make a movie from my life sha. Maybe calling Step Down to document my life was not bad. I could call it Sugar Daddy Chronicles or something like that.
The car stopped in front of Steve’s compound and as I made my way to his front door, I ran the experiences of the past month in my head – from Cherokee’s shocking revelation, to AKT’s return, to LJP’s Fifty shades of grey drama, to Chimezie’s proposal and even me found it downright hilarious.
I laughed out loud as I waited for Steve to come to the door.
I needed to find painkillers immediately I got inside the house, maybe that annoying Steve would be nice enough to help me find.
The door opened and I saw Ms Amber Rose aka Lade standing by the door.
Her face widened in a smile and she stepped aside for me to walk in. She shut the door behind her and walked right behind me into the house.
Just like the first time I saw her, she was looking beautiful with impeccable makeup, her body clad in a clingy black two piece – the tight fitting top baring her stomach and the skirt, the skirt had a slit that ran up to her thighs revealing a set of toned legs which I knew were a result of great work out and God knew what else.
Steve emerged from the kitchen then, he handed her a plate of chicken salad and muttered a greeting to me.
I knew I had to get away before this got too awkward, so I hurried out of the sitting room into the room I had to myself in Steve’s apartment.
***
I must have been asleep for at least two hours when I heard the soft knock on my door, it was Steve.
Groggily, I made my way to the door and opened it for him.
“Hi.”
He had a worried look in his eyes and if I was his friend, I would have invited him into the room for a conversation but we weren’t friends so no invitation.
“Hi” He replied, then handed me a white nylon that had a restaurant’s name printed on it. “I bought you dinner.”
“I already had more than enough to eat.” I said and then hurriedly added, “But thanks.” And because I was worried he would think I was being cold I said again, “I would just eat it tomorrow.”
He nodded, “Are you okay though?”
Since when did he care? “Not exactly. Can I have painkillers? I have cramps.”
“I have something that would work for that.”
I followed him out of the room, past the sitting room where Banky W’s High Notes was playing softly on the speakers and I knew I should be in pain and all that but I couldn’t help the direction my mind was steered in when I heard those lyrics.
They made me think of me naked and they also made me think of him naked, both of our bodies moving rhythmically to the flow of the song while the heat of passion caused us to lose our minds.
Wait, hol’ up, hol’ up. Was I mad?
“These babies would relieve you in a few minutes.” He said and I grabbed a bottle of water and downed the pills in seconds. I needed the relief because the pain was threatening to make me lose my mind. “Do you have er… sanitary towels? Cos I know, you know, you just left detention and you don’t have… you get what I’m saying, yeah?”
I smiled, actually he had not said anything but yeah, I got it.
The way he struggled with the words while he tried to pass a message around was somehow cute, it almost made me want to reach out, touch his head and run my hands through his low hair.
“I used tissue paper.”
He nodded, “I would get you some Sanitary towels in the morning, I promise.”
“Thank you.” I said and then proceeded to leave. I needed to get back in bed; curling up with a pillow helped me deal with the pain.
“Kaycee.” I turned when he called my name. “I am sorry for being somehow.”
He was apologizing? Okay. Well, I was about to have fun with this.
“What does somehow mean?”
“You know, somehow.”
“Define somehow.”
He was struggling with expressing himself and I had to admit, I was enjoying it. I toyed with the cap of the bottled water in my hands and bit my lips. I was going to savor this moment for as long as I could.
“You’re having fun with this.”
Oh he knew?
I shrugged, “You deserve it.”
“I know.” There was a long pause before he added, “I didn’t like you when AKT was talking about you because he seemed so emotionally invested in you but you didn’t seem to be worth it.” Realizing he might have said something I might be uncomfortable with, he hurriedly apologized, “I don’t mean that in a bad way.”
“I know. It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry, Kaycee. Can we start all over again?”
I nodded, stretched my hand for a handshake and he took it with a smile.
“My name is Kelechi Mbah, you can call me Kaycee.”
“My name is Steve, just Steve. And you can call me Steve.” He chuckled when he said that and I laughed softly.
There was a long stretch of silence before I finally gestured towards the door, “I have to go to bed.”
“Oh Okay, I was wondering if we could see a movie together actually. You know, as friends.”
I considered that, it was not a bad offer. I could watch something with him while I got rid of the pain, besides, I was very awake now compared to minutes ago when he showed up at my door.
“What are we watching?” I asked as we returned to the sitting room where he turned off the light and grabbed his remote control.
“Mad Max.” He replied, tossed a heavy duvet my way and settled into a seat.
I sat near him, covering myself with the duvet, my eyes on the large screen as the movie began.
I glanced at him and wondered if this had anything to do with Lade?
He’d suddenly become nice just after he knew I saw them have sex. Was he trying to pally with me so I did not mention it to AKT? Was whatever that happened with Lade such a big deal he wanted it swept under the carpet so bad?
Who the heck was the Lade chic? I wanted to find out.
