Hey hey, I decided to introduce one of my random hobbies to the blog: writing fictional but relatable stories.
Sit back, grab a pack of plantain chips or popcorn and let me know how you enjoy this episode by dropping a comment/constructive critic for me because this is just a hobby. 🙂
P.S your comments will let me know whether to quit or continue so don’t hesistate.
THIS IS A PURELY FICTIONAL STORY, NOT BASED ON ANYONE’S TRUE LIFE STORY, RESEMBLANCE IN TERMS OF SCENERY AND NAMES IS JUST A COINCIDENCE.
I don’t even know how I found myself in this situation, you know how things just spiral ball into circumstances and then situations you feel entangled in and don’t know where it all started from?
Of course I know how it all started, who am I deceiving?
My name is Ona and I’m in love with a married man.
Before I explain my plight, let me give you a nice backdrop of things.
You know the drill, done with university, done with NYSC, stayed back home for two years, no job and I took matters into my own hands because my mother was giving me subtle hints that I’m becoming a bother since I wasn’t bringing any money into the house and my constant asking (begging) for money was beginning to irritate her.
Basically as almost every 24 year old in Lagos, I started my own hustle from making wigs to baking cakes to being a sales attendant for a boutique but right now I run an online boutique for myself where I sell clothes, bags, shoes, accessories, you name it.
My business is going good I must say because I got small connects to celebrities buying stuff from my boutique.
(This small babe don dey blow small small, it’s God.)
On a beautiful day I went to visit my client Mrs. Sade (you know those clients that instantly turn to friends right? Mrs. Sade is one of those clients) because she always complains that I spend too much time at home and in her words “how will you even get a job by sitting in the house all day?”
To be fair she was right, I needed to go out more, who knows, my next employer could be shopping for groceries down the road. I then decided to go to her office often to at least shake body small plus it’s literally just a stone throw from my house so why not right?
Prior to my visit she had ordered small chops and chocolates and you know this girl isn’t leaving until those small chops and chocolates have been murdered so I decided to get super comfortable, we talked about work, men, business and all that’s in between. I showed her the new arrivals from my boutique (person gats sell him market now) and she was deliberating on which to pick.
Time passed and we started watching soccer all thanks to Sade because she knows I’m totally uninterested in soccer but anything to kill time right? Fifteen minutes into the game (I can’t even remember the names of the teams playing) amidst Sade explaining what offside meant and why the referee flashed a yellow card, in walks her friend.
In all honesty I can’t remember what he wore but he looked so good for a 40 – something year old (yes, we babes just guess a man’s age at first glance). He was dressed pretty casual, in a navy blue Polo shirt and dark blue jeans, it was a Friday so it was expected.
He exchanged pleasantries with Sade, Sade’s office has two chairs facing her desk as soon as you walk in, while the television is at the other side of the office, close to the door. He sat right beside me, briefly said hello to me and whipped out his phone in a matter of seconds, not giving me enough time to even clean my drool and reply with posh English. I replied him in the same brash tone (such cockiness, Oga make your freshness dey your pocket abeg) and we (by we, I mean Sade and her friend because I was on lost) talked about the ongoing match.
Small chops and chocolates came in time to break the unnecessary ice in between me and Sade’s friend, I gladly helped myself to some and Sade goes “Ona, you and your sweet tooth ehn” , I chuckled and jokingly rolled my eyes at her while somehow convincing her friend to try some of the chocolates. After tasting some he says “Oh these taste so good, I should buy some for my boys, they’d love it”.
I fell deaf for a minute. Did he just say boys? As in children? He is married? What? It’s a lie?
I quickly looked at his fingers and I saw a wedding band positioned nicely on his ring finger and I said under my breath “what the fuck”.
I know, I know, for a second I actually found all cockiness quite attractive, I can’t explain but I was attracted to being slightly ignored or not being the center of attention of a man I just met. It even sounds more stupid as I say it but we move.
I just gave a sly smile, nodded in agreement and carried on watching the match with so much concentration like I knew everything about soccer with my mind bugging my brain with useless questions.
That’s how my crush on Mr. Cocky started.
Yes he’s Mr. Cocky to me till he earns the right to be called by name.
Till nextweek Friday by 7pm Nigerian time,