FOUR

Solano's eyes kept running from his watch to the door. Whatever the contractor was pitching to him was of no importance whatsoever. It was almost the agreed time, but she still wasn't there yet.

Damn you little girl!

"Mr. Vicenze? Sir!"

"Just do what you have to do Mr. Coker. All I need to see is result." Solano replied with an expression of boredom, "the Lauretta Vicenze Paradise has to be the best. Every investment I make under that name must be nothing less than number one. That should be enough of a pep talk because if you deliver anything less, you might never get another contract in your life! Understand?"

"Yes sir. That's why we are the best of the best, you'll surely be impressed." The contractor stood up, "it's my pleasure doing business with you sir," he stretched for a hand, but it was ignored once Solano set his eyes on a figure 8 in a black dress.

"The pleasure will be mine when my work is done to perfection."  He left from where the embarrassed contractor stood and started walking towards Shola. When she saw him coming, she suddenly felt really uncomfortable in her black stilettos.

Please don't sweat! Please don't sweat! Please don't sweat! She repeatedly sang inside her head. They walked towards each other like they were about to do some super erotic thing once they got to each other, but Solano just kept walking and walked past her like she wasn't even there.

What the actual fuck?

She'd seen how he ignored the contractor's hand and now he'd ignored her completely. Her blood boiled! Unlike this contractor, she wasn't going to just stand there; she had spent all night and morning preparing for this meeting and now he just ignored her? No! Shola bolted after him, fuming with rage,

"Was that supposed to be an April fool joke?" She ran after him, trying to keep up with his steps, "Mr. Vicenze? Mr. Vicenze? Mr.- God dammit? Solano!" She shouted. He stopped.

What the hell was happening to him? An acute excitement had just swept through him when she called his surname. It was not like he'd never heard a woman say his name before, just it had never ignited his insides like it was doing at that moment.

"What the hell Solano! Did you just make me come here to embarrass me?" She brought herself in front of him,

"You're late!" He told her then continued towards his car, he had to get away from this woman before she did or said something else to provoke his lust.

"Are you..." She glanced at her watch, it was 12:10, "crap!" She ran after him "listen," she started, "I was caught up in the traffic I swear! I cannot control the roads of this country. Shit happens OK?"

"Oh! Shit happens? I guess shit just happened and you missed your chance. I'll find another and more competent guide!" Solano stepped into his car and kick on the engine, leaving Shola stunned,

No, he didn't just... He just called me incompetent!

"You know what? I missed my chance. Take a good look at me honey," she did a dramatic twirl, making sure her ass flexed real good right in front of his eyes for longer that her body. She pulled lower her dress so her cleavage would take a whole new form of visible, "Yeah, shit happens, and you just missed your chance to get the best guide and employee this fucking country has to offer!" She flipped back her hair and walked away. 

No one gets the last word on Omashola Adunfe Fadaunsi! Absolutely no one!

But somewhere deep inside, she was praying he was still watching her, stunned and seduced by her, and totally rethinking his choice. And he was! He drove his car and followed her, stopped a few feet in front of her. She crossed her hands under her chest pushing the babies higher,

"Get in!" He told her,

"Why? So, you can shoved me out when you want to? No thank you!" Shola continued pass his car and he still followed,

"I am not going to ask you again little girl, get inside the car!"

Shola calculated her options. What if this was a trap or something bad; maybe he wanted to humiliate her more. She thought of assessing him more too,

"Yeah right! Still not!"

She was moving on, patting herself on the back mentally, slapping it very hard like 'what the actual fuck Shola? You're playing with your chances!!!' But she was still doing it. She reached the roadside and was waiting for a bus when Solano's car pulled over again in front of her. He took a deep breath before talking,

"What is your name?" He asked her. That was when it hit Shola that Solano had never asked for her name. He might have heard it a few times, but he'd never even tried to mispronounce it, he'd just been calling her little girl or little lady all this while,

"It's Omashola," she answered glaring, pouting her nude brown lips,

"That could not be all of it,"

"Adunfe Fadaunsi!"

"Oma- Shola is it?"

"Yes!"

"Come home with me. To my house. My cook is a Yoruba friendly lady, she won't let me kill you, don't worry,"

"Geez! Thanks for the warning but no thank you.  I don't trust you,"

"Neither do I trust you but somehow I'm inviting you to my home. We'll talk there. The heat out here really pushes my button,"

"Glad something does," she whispered thinking it was to herself,

"You have bad whispering skills little girl. But I still want you to come with me. I'll follow you if I have to. After all, I wouldn't want to miss my chance at getting the best this country has to offer," he took in her figure again, he paused on her face, her silky looking lips, "Get in," he paused again, an expression like he was in pain, "please!"

Was heaven falling over or was she dreaming? Shola couldn't even express herself. She was beyond stunned! She just moved to get to the other side of the car and entered. His eyes never leaving her, he pulled closer and pulled over her the seat belt, her cleavage all in his face; he could smell her perfume and it was destroying his mind.

"I know how to put on a seatbelt," she told him in a child-like voice,

"Of course you do," he got comfortable in his on seat, (not really!) kicked the engine and drove off.

All that was running by through Shola's mind was: please don't be a serial killer! please don't be a serial killer! please don't be a serial killer! Pretty please don't be a serial killer!!!

Well, you don't get VIP lunch buffets in serial killer's houses. That was what Solano's cook had made; a big freaking buffet: Nigerian and European delicacies; at least the ones Solano had downloaded recipes for her to learn; like salads and coffee cakes.

Shola felt a tight knot in her belly tighten some more; she was an eater and a messy one at that. Just when she was trying to be a woman of substance, a woman of absolute class! Now they put a buffet in her face, and everything smelled divine. 

"I hope wuna dey hungry! This one na cater style I do! Madame, welcome!"

"Thank you aunty!"

"Eat first, we'll talk later." Solano told Shola. He sat at the head of the table while she settled at the other end. 

"I'm not hungry. I'd rather we talk first," by this time the cook was coming back with a bottle Chardonnay..

"Thank you Elizabeth!" Solano told her as she placed it carefully on the table then left, "Are you afraid of me? Or perhaps embarrassed?"

"I'm not afraid of you. "

"So embarrassed?"

"Can we just talk?"

"Isn't that what we're doing right now?"

"I meant about business," it was getting really hard for Shola to resist the food that stood in front of her, begging her to take just a sniff. But she wanted to play poised and professional and her very obvious struggle did not only amused burn enticed and aroused Solano. His phone then rang. He checked the caller's ID, and his smiley lips flatten to a straight line.

"Eat something! The talking part might take a while. I'll be back in a bit." Solano stood and left. Shola could only hear fading sounds of him grumbling over the phone. He sounded angry and seemed to be quarreling with whoever was on the other line.

In a swift moment, it seemed like the food had called Shola's attention back to its aroma. She had fought it way too much and no longer could. If there was anything this girl couldn't fight was her stomach. Even when she wasn't hungry, as long as the food smelled and tasted great, she was all in. She lashed herself unto the table, serving out whatever her hands landed on, eating like a child who had just had a tiring day in school. 

Solano came back. He looked worked up but soon relaxed the moment he saw how adorable Shola looked eating.

"Now I get the why you were ashamed; of eating with me around! What do you call that mixture you've done? Is it some Nigerian thing or is it just you?" Shola just continued eating. She wasn't going to risk choking on delicious food because of a gorgeous grey haired asshole.

"OK! I deem it you don't talk when eating. So, you'll just answer for me a few questions, OK? Let's say this is your business rendezvous,"

Shola quickly dropped her spoon, cleaned her mouth and pretended to focus,

"You can keep eating!"

"No, it's OK! I'll still choke somewhere along the line either way, so I'd rather go with the safe way."

She fascinated him. He was looking at her like she was an alien, imagining why he hadn't seen all of this in her before; like the first time they met.

"So, Oma, how old are you?"

"Uhm, 23. And I'd rather you call me Shola."

"Is your name not Omashola?"

"It is!"

"Adu- is it Adunfe Fada- I'm sorry but that last name sounds ridiculous!"

Zaddy say what now?

"I'll just stick to Oma. Just for me." Omashola forced a tight smile, chewing hard on her tongue, but only because she needed a job. Like a million things crossed her mind to through back at Solano for calling her name, her father's name; ridiculous.

"What's your level of education?"

"I have a master's degree in Sociology and Anthropology."

"Impressive! That'll be all for now. If you agree to my proposal, I'll have someone dress up a contract for you by tomorrow."

"OK Mr. Vicenze, what's your proposal?"

"Before I answer that, I have one more question," 

"Ok,"

"What's your relationship status?"