Chapitre 4: III: A call from the past.
My smile was as large as earth when I was done with clothes and makeup. The reflection staring back at me, from the full length mirror that stood just by my entrance, was beyond satisfactory.
Though the outfit I was wearing was normally reserved for TGIF night turn ups, I found the cream coloured sleeveless top, that had a plunging neckline, and a lemon, leather miniskirt that was slit from hem to waistline, the perfect wear for this occasion.
I had bold makeup on to go with the equally bold outfit;
My full lips were shaped out in a perfect pout and painted with a matte lipstick —the shade of red. My naturally inky black eyes were tainted grey with the help of contacts, my eyelids had taken on colours of darker shades, coupled with glitters and the whole look was made perfect by my fanned out lashes —faux, of course.
I added finishing touches by flattening my baby hair to curly perfection and adding a diamond stud in to my left nostril. I fluffed my brown, springy locks —which I'd deliberately left down— and flashed myself another beam of satisfaction.
The way my naked ass cheeks were barely covered by the tight leather and how my milky coloured milk bags peeked out of my blouse and jiggled against each other, whenever I tried to move, gave me the impression that I would be leaving a lot of mouths hanging open at the Olowo's today.
It wouldn't be the reason for which my mother was hoping as I looked like a slut through and through and that was the reason for my joy.
She wanted filth? This was filth in its raw form.
I wasn't being rebellious by my actions, no. At twenty one, a few weeks away from the 'big double two's, I had definitely outgrown that phase. This was just me paying back my mother, in her own coin, for blackmailing me into bending to her will.
Susan liked to think she was the best bitch out there and it was my responsibility to show her to her damn place whenever she crossed the line.
I was going to do just that.
"Good morning, mistress. Madam said I should—" at the abrupt silence and intermediate ruckus, my cool gaze travelled over to the gaping maid, that had the nerve to barge into my private space without so much as a head start, before trailing down to the sequined cloth that'd found its new home on my carpet, by the maid's feet.
My eyes stayed there while I talked;
"I don't remember mentioning that it was okay to come in, Tutu. Did I?" I questioned slowly as my eyes finally traveled up the petrified form of the maid. "Did I?"
She shook her head vigorously in nervousness. I raised one of my perfectly painted brows and crossed my forearms
"What if I was naked when you barged in?" I questioned further, but was met with no reply.
I was feeling fly, in an actual good mood, that I didn't feel the need to terrify the teenager anymore, so I dismissed her with a nonchalant shrug and walked barefooted towards my shoe closet to pick the pair I would be wearing.
It came as a surprise when after several minutes of being indecisive about which pair of heels I could pull off with my outfit, I came out the small closet, rocking a sliver pair of hooker heels, to meet Tutu still rooted to the ground, shaking like a leaf by the riverside.
I paused with a frown.
"Is there a specific reason why you're still standing here?" I questioned as I resumed my pace to grab my purse and phone from where it lay, on my bed.
Coincidentally, the shrill ringtone of my phone rented the air just then.
I walked up to it to see an unknown number with a country code that wasn't familiar. My heart skipped a beat in high hopes that it was one of my busy brothers, even though the chances of that were very slim.
My fingers hovered above the accept icon, but I paused midway and turned around to glare at the nervous kid when my enquiry went by for more than a few seconds without being replied.
"I believe I asked a question," I pressed in a voice that was borderline pissed.
I needed my space to pick converse with whoever was on the other end and Miss jittery seemed to be adamant on standing her ground in the room. The last thing I wanted was an eavesdropper and a potential big mouth that would relay my phone conversation to my mother.
The unpleasant thought must have darkened my expression, for Tutu began to chatter with a scared pitch. By the time she was done notifying as she bent to pick and stretch out the black, maxi dress my mother wanted me to wear for her 'procurement' errand, the call had rung its last and automatically disconnected.
"She said, I should make sure you wear the dress," she added in anxiousness, her bulgy eyes looking anywhere but me.
Both employer and employee must be stupid, because I didn't see how the latter was going to force me into wearing a dress I wouldn't be caught touching with a ten foot pole.
Just as I was about to answer, my phone rang up again. It was still the same foreign number. I instantly swiped on accept, but immediately left it on hold.
"Whatever bullshit you just said, I don't have time to deal with it. You can have the dress and inform all the other servants that they have the weekend off. Y'all should be gone by the time I get back. I'm tired of dealing with the bunch of idiots you all are."
She opened her lips to object, but I'd already released my hold of the call and enquiring who it was to spare her another second of my attention.
"This is Adeayo Obey. You remember me?" The gruff voice of the caller informed. I didn't try to contain the hiss that bubbled up my throat.
I pinned the phone to my ear with my shoulders, so my hands could be free to grab my silver purse and touch up my makeup afterwards.
"To what do I owe this early morning disturbance, Ade?" I enquired with evident irritation as I snatched my car keys from the coat hanger and resumed my hold of the phone.
"You're still angry with me?"
"Don't trip. That you were a jerk that couldn't make good use of the junk you were given doesn't necessarily nominate you to be a recipient of my emotions. It takes more than sleeping with me and my so-called best friend to enrage me." I explained with growing irritation as I walked out of my room, stopping by to motion to the wide eyed, naive thing to get out of my room once and for all.
I watched her scamper off before closing the door and latching on to the lock.
"I'm sorry I hurt you, Vee—"
"I see the rate at which you comprehend shit is still as nonexistent as ever, Ade; so I'll say this in a way that even a dumb kid will be able to understand. You. Are. Not. Enough. To. Hurt. Me!"
As I walked through the hallway to get out of the house, I noticed the exaggerated forms of salutations from various busybody servants that hated my guts, but I was too busy trying to calm my nerves to pay attention to acknowledge or return their greetings.
"I know it's a shitty thing to do; ruining your virtue like that and—"
"Whatever the fuck gave you the idea that my virtue lied in the hymen you tore through seven bloody years ago?" I sincerely had no idea as to the reason why the blasted fool had deemed now the perfect time to call me.
If he'd called to get on my nerves, he was on the damn right track. The heavens knew how much I was trying to hold on to the lease that kept me in check.
I had made it out of the mansion I lived in, glared my mother's agile driver that stood in my way until he caved and bolted, walked on to meet my humble r8, entered into it's comfy coolness and had switched on the ignition to begin my journey to the mainland when Ade finally regained his ability to speak.
"I'm sorry, Vee. For all the troubles I've caused."
What had I mentioned about comprehension?The guy was so damn slow that it irked me to remember him being my first.
"If you don't have anything else to say than downtown BS, then I advise you to get a life. I've got better things to do." He was in the middle of chanting more words of apology when I hit the end icon and I immediately blocked his number before connecting my phone to the car stereo and putting on a soothing song.
The damn call affected my mood for sure, the sound of his voice was all I could think about even as I revved the car up repeatedly and zoomed out of the premises.
The bastard had just ruined the mood I'd worked so had at improving that I didn't even look forward to the hullabaloo I was going to cause at the Olowo's anymore.
Ugh!
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
illusionistic
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PS: the chapter has been edited.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
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