Things We Do For Love - Five

I stand outside my former employer’s office, my mind awash with memories. I know that I will turn and leave if I do not walk through these doors immediately, yet I cannot bring myself to turn the knob. “This is a bad idea”, I think to myself; “why on earth would he do me a favor after all that has gone down between us?”

I shake my head sadly and decide to leave. But I cannot bring myself to walk away, so I linger a little - exploring the various memories and associations I have with this place. And then suddenly, I feel someone creep up behind me.

I do not want to turn my head so that I do not betray my awareness of the fact that I am not alone. I look intently at the glass door, hoping to catch a reflection; but again – suddenly – I know who it is. I feel the force of his presence. I feel his eyes drilling a hole into me from behind, and knowing him well – they must be focused on my nether regions. Now I smell him; the strong smell of his perfume and aftershave. This is not good, but it is happening already.

“Feyi”, he says, hoarsely.

I break out in a cold sweat immediately. It takes all the strength I have to respond, “Rotimi”.

I turn slowly, cursing the reminiscing that kept me here as I do so. My eyes finally fall on him, and I immediately see that he has changed a lot since we last saw. He has lost the hungry look and now looks quite robust. He is smartly dressed, and wonder of all wonders – he is wearing a jacket!

Again I feel his eyes lingering in all the wrong places. I look straight at him, then follow his gaze back to my body – my eyes coming to rest on my breasts. Instinctively, I start to raise my hands to the front of my slim-fitted shirt, but I catch myself and stop. Nothing would bring Rotimi more joy than the knowledge that he is causing me discomfort.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. There is no emotion in his voice. None whatsoever. That is a good sign. I hope it means that he has come to terms with the fact that he cannot have me.

“Er, I heard you were recruiting.” I stammer.

He throws his head back and laughs deeply, rubbing his protruding belly as he does so. “And why would you be interested in our recruitment?”

I must be very careful now. The last thing I want is for Rotimi to sense the desperation I feel within. “I don’t need a job”, I respond tersely. “I have a friend who needs one”.

“Hmmm…and you couldn’t call? You had to come down in person? Like seriously? You haven’t been here in two years, and you show up because a friend of yours needs a job? This friend must be a really important one. Hmmmm… Ten thousand naira says this ‘friend’ is your ne’er-do-well boyfriend – Mofesola.”

I cannot be more shocked. Trust Rotimi to be so coldly logical and brutally candid. A thousand and one fitting retorts run through my mind, but I grit my teeth and calm myself. Mofesola has started to lie about feedback from his interviews of late. I know this because I read his mails when he’s not looking. He is interviewing with General Electric as I stand here, but frankly – I do not expect anything to come out of it. He needs a job desperately, and I will not blow this chance by responding to Rotimi’s impish behavior.

“Keep your ten thousand naira, rich boy. It is Mofesola.

I want to say and do more. I want to tell him he is not half the man that my Mofesola is. I want to roll my eyes at him and walk away. But I will not do any of these things. My baby needs a job. If I have to suffer Rotimi’s insolence to get him one, I will.

“Well, the opening we advertised has been filled. Some smart dude breezed through the interviews and is due to resume this morning.”

My face drops. His face lights up.

He has me exactly where he wants me.

“On the other hand”, he continues; “I am sure I can create something for your boyfriend”, he says – spitting out the last word. There is a sinking feeling in my stomach. This cannot be good.

“Nothing goes for nothing”, he says, his eyes returning to my cleavage.

I am horrified.