SCARLETT’S KNIGHT: Love the way you lie

Kaz

Chapter 3

The shrilling of my phone wakes me up from my deep sleep. The customized ringtone tells me who exactly it is calling. It is not even six yet, but when my mom decides you are her victim that day, you can’t escape her. Even worse is that if I hit ignore she will just show up at my apartment unannounced. I love her, but sometimes she just drives me crazy.

“Hey mom,” I say feigning enthusiasm.

“Hello, son. How are you this morning?”

“I am fine mom,” I sigh. “I am fine today and every morning you have called this week. Don’t you have anyone else to bother? Say Khelani, for example?”

I love my mother, but her need to check up on me every single day is exhausting. I am 29 for God’s sake. I am capable of taking care of myself.

“I’m sorry son if you think am just a bother, I just worry about you.” She says almost sobbing. Now I feel like a world class dick.

“I am sorry mom, I didn’t mean that. So, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, I just wanted to invite you and your fiancée to come and join us for Sunday brunch. You know its weird we have never met this girl,” she says sceptically.

You have never met her because she doesn’t exist.

“I know, it’s just that we have been so busy. She is in Kisumu at the moment, but I will call her, and we’ll compare schedules.”

“Okay, son. Your father sends his regards,” she says, and I roll my eyes. My father is the reason why I have to lie that I have a fiancée in the first place.

“Tell him to keep his regards and to just sign the papers already. Until when is he going to keep up this cat and mouse chase?”

“He just worries, Kazam. He has your best interests at heart,” Mom says.

“Well, it doesn’t feel like it. See you soon. Love you.” I hand up before she starts another lecture. Seriously, it’s not like Khelani wants the company anyway. She is happily living with her husband and two kids. So, what is keeping him?

I get up from my bed and do a few press-ups on the floor before heading for my shower. I need to get myself a fiancée…fast and I have two days to do it.

Maybe Alex can help me find one? I pay him enough to get me anything I want.

Damn it Kazam, what did you get yourself into?

My father is one of those old-fashioned people who believe that behind every successful man, there is a woman. If you ask me, that’s total bullshit. Just because he has had my mom throughout his life, he thinks that all women are like her.

News flash dad, they aren’t. Mom is one of a kind.

Most of the women I have slept with just look at my wallet and drool, and that is why I get rid of them immediately we are done. If he is waiting for me to get a wife, he will be waiting for a thousand lifetimes. The last thing I need is a leech sucking off my back.

My parents were so used to me coming home to brunch alone that my dad gave me an ultimatum. They think I am lonely. If they knew the string of weekend visitors I usually have at my apartment, they would have a coronary. He will not let me inherit the company unless I get a wife. KazTech is my life. I have toiled, put on my blood and sweat into making it succeed. Hell will freeze over before I let it go. Even if it means getting a fake wife, it will be mine.

I get dressed in my charcoal black three-piece suit, white shirt and a navy-blue tie. I finish up the ensemble with my watch, which I wear on my left wrist, black socks and dress shoes that my housekeeper Rachel shined to perfection. Once am done, I look in the mirror and smile. Perfect.

On my way out, I pick my wallet and car keys. I feel like driving myself to work today.

I reach the office a few minutes to seven and head straight to my office. At nine, having worked for about two hours, I decide to go down the block for coffee. Normally, I would have had Lisa, my PA get it for me, but I need the fresh air. Alex, my body gourd tries to follow me, but I tell him I will be fine as I am just going down the road, promising to be back after a few minutes.

There is an eerie grey glow in the sky. When I left the house, it was a bit sunny but now, it’s gloomy, like something bad is going to happen soon. I ignore it. The Nairobi July is always like this, cold, grey and glum. I take out my phone and start reading some emails as I walk when I hit something.

That’s what you get for not paying attention Kazam.

“Watch where you are going!” I shout. Really Kazam? As if you were watching.

Looking down, I see it is a woman… and she is damn furious… and hot. Definitely pretty and for the second time today, I feel like a prick.

“Are you okay?” I say, helping her up and hold her cheeks in comfort. Her face is cold, very cold.

“Uh, yeah, am fine. I was just thinking of how I could gawk at you the whole day,” Well, that’s new. I have never had a lady who was this forward with me. It is surprisingly very refreshing. When she realizes I heard what she said, she blushes.

“Really now?” I ask, raising a brow.

“Uh,” Come on. That’s the best you can do? I muse. She seems like she has a smart mouth. Just then, her stomach grumbles. She looks down in embarrassment.

“When was the last time you ate?” I ask her.

“I…uh…” Well, it seems the cat cut her tongue, so time to act, Kazam.

“Come on, I was going for breakfast anyway. I will buy you a croissant.” I say, dragging her to the restaurant I was going to. I normally don’t do this. What is it about this lady?

The hostess, a lady who thinks the world owes her a favour looks at me then her in disapproval.

“Sir, we don’t allow their kind in this restaurant,” she says pointing at the girl. It makes me mad. Why am I mad?

“And what kind is that?” I snap at her.

“She is a ….”

“Let me stop you right there, lady. She is with me, now be a good hostess and bring us your best coffee and a breakfast menu.” I interrupt before she has a chance to finish. I hate people who think they are better than others.

“But…” I look at her again.

“Right away sir.” She mumbles and goes to place my order.

“By the way I am Kazam, but my friends call me Kaz,” I say at the girl, holding out my had for her to take. She looks at it widely but then shakes it anyway.

“Scarlett,” She says smiling.

“Scarlett seems posh,” I say. It was meant to be a mumble but by the looks of it, she heard it too.

“And Kazam doesn’t?” She asks sarcastically.

“Fair enough. I will call you Red, though. Am sure me calling you Scar for short doesn’t really sail your boat.” I mean seriously, Scar for short? That’s just wrong. It reminds me of the first XXX movie where Xander cage called Gibbons scarface.

“Sure. Scarlett means red anyway,” she says shrugging.

I like this girl. She is smart and pretty. Maybe I can convince her to be my fake wife. She looks dirty and rugged and she could use the money I will pay her for her troubles. I start formulating a plan of action. By the end of breakfast, I will have convinced her. What does she have to lose, anyway?

We remain silent for a while, me contemplating how I am going to convince her to play along, and her, well, whatever it is that is making her blush.

“You are staring and blushing. I wonder what dirty thoughts are running through your mind,” I say, letting her know that she has been caught. She looks down to her lap, probably trying to hide the blush, but its too late. Am I the one making her blush like that? Oh, I wish I knew what was running through that head.

When the waiter brings back the coffee and some fruits, she immediately digs in. She must have been very hungry.

It is now my turn to stare. Aside from the greasy afro and the dirt underneath her fingernails, she is perfect. She has tried to keep herself decent, God knows how she does it. I only need to splash some money, here and there and she will be as good as new. People are never ugly, just broke. She looks as if she has seen tough days, surely this will be reprieving, right?

“I am just trying to read you, that’s all,” She says stabbing a pineapple.

“What have you come up with so far?” I say throwing another grape in my mouth. She looks at my mouth and swallows, that blush returning.

Does my swallowing turn you on Red? This is going to be easier than I thought. Okay Kazam, seduction 101. What did Khelani teach you? Make eye contact. What do you know, they are coming in handy after all. Thanks, sis.

“A whole lot. You are pretty much an open book,” She says, and I laugh. Me? An open book? That’s new. Let me indulge her.

“Well, you are hard to read. What is your story?” I ask, picking another grape. Since I have realized she reacts to my swallowing, I will use it to my advantage, make her spill all her secrets. What can I say, they might come in handy one day.

“What makes you think I have one?”

“Everyone has a story. You sound intelligent, your English is impeccable which means you have had some form of education and you are beautiful. The only thing I see wrong about you is the oversized dirty clothes you are wearing. Other than that, you can rival a runway model and win, easily. So, I ask again, what is your story?” I look at her again but then she puts her fork down. I must have touched a sour spot.

“Are you trying to patronize me?” She asks…hurt? Why would she be hurt by someone telling her she is smart and pretty? Seems little Red has self-esteem issues. I file that in my mind for later.

“Why do you say that? Don’t you believe you are pretty?”

“Well, I am not pretty. When you are told you are ugly day in day out, you tend to believe it,” she snaps. Touchy subject. Got it.

“So am guessing I should add self-esteem issues to the list of questions to ask, huh. Well, you are pretty and whoever told you that, has issues of their own that should not concern you in the slightest.” Doesn’t she realize she is pretty?

“Well, you should not concern yourself with my feelings either. These are poor people problems and rich dudes like you who went to international schools and bathe caviar wouldn’t know them, now would they?” Well, there she goes. The classic judgements.

I don’t know why everyone I meet thinks I was fed gold as a child and shit diamonds. Everything I have and all that I am, I have worked hard for it. Which is why I think my dad’s ultimatum is utter bullshit. Why would I marry someone who will not add value to my life? At least this one is going to be useful. Keeping up pretence is not an easy fete. Trust me, my parents think I have been engaged for three months and I will be married by November next year.

Normally, I wouldn’t give two shits about what people think about me, but for her, its different. I don’t know why I want her to see me in a positive light.

“Well, that is where you are wrong. I went to a public school. My father had this notion that it would humble me. As for caviar, it’s not bathed in, just eaten.” I say smugly.

“Of course, I know that I was trying to be sarcastic. And tell your dad he wasted his time, making you humble is like squeezing blood from a stone.”

“Has someone ever told you that you are cynical?”

“Yes, every day of my life.”

I have never met an insufferable woman like this one my entire life.

“So, what do you love doing?” I ask, changing the subject. Chances are, with her stubbornness, I will be the one ending up with a headache.

“I love painting and drawing,” She says, excitedly. Her eyes light up when she tells me about the different styles of painting and drawing and how she feels serene when she paints. I can tell that she loves it. I decide that if she agrees with my plan, I will enrol her in art classes as a show of appreciation.

See, I can be good too…well… that is when I am not thinking of seducing young, naïve, unsuspecting girls.

“I can tell you love it, by the way your eyes light up when you speak about art. Can I see some of your work?” I ask, more from curiosity than anything else.

She hesitates for a while, and I can see the gears of her head turning, debating with herself. Eventually, she gives in and opens her satchel. She takes out an old looking book, which is surprisingly well Kept and hands it over to me.

As I peruse the pages, I see her passion in the drawings. They are drawn with so much detail, that what’s remaining is just breathing them to life. The first drawing is of a pair of eyes. The irises are a shade of sea blue and grey. I don’t know what it is about them, but I feel like they are looking right through me. The drawing is signed November 2014. I continue perusing until I come to a page where a familiar building is drawn. It’s KazTech. What are the odds that I would meet someone who already had a connection to me even before we met?

“Why did you draw this?” I ask mesmerized, still tracing my finger on the drawing.

“It was a crazy dream I had a while back. It’s stupid,” She says blushing and shaking her head again.

“Tell me,” I demand. I need to know why.

“Well, I dreamt that I was seated on the helipad of that building staring at the sunset. I bet it would be stunning. Whoever owns that building should be proud,” She says smiling and staring in the distance longingly.

“Yeah, I bet he is,” I say with a chuckle. The truth is, I have never seen it that way. For me, it is just my place of work and nothing else. I begin to wish that I could see the world the way she sees it.

“Well, it is not stupid. Dreams do come true, without that possibility, nature wouldn’t entice us to have them.”

She laughs when I quote John Updike. He is one of my favourite poets in the world, and I am surprised she knows him. We talk for a while, but things start going south when I say I could use someone like her at the company. She stands up faster than lightning and claims that she had some things to take care of. I honestly don’t know what it is I said that has her running and, in my mind, am saying how I have ruined my ticket to KazTech. Where in the world am I going to find another potential fiancée on such short notice?

I don’t have time to dwell on that because the next thing I see is Red walking towards the middle of the road. I run after her and yell for her to stop but it is already too late. The lorry hits her and drags her a few meters before it stops. The driver, who was drunk off his mind comes out and staggers to the sidewalk and passes out. It would be nice if he dies too but I don’t dwell on that. The angry mob forming in front of him will take care of that.

Am about to yell for help when I spot Alex running towards Red’s still body. I have never been so thankful for his stalking in my life. Even after I told him I would be fine, he still decided to have my back. I run towards him and together we load Red on the car before driving off towards the Nairobi Hospital, all the while willing her to wake up.

Even before it stops, I am out of the car yelling for the nurse to help. The nurse, a woman comes with her male counterpart pushing a gurney. They then get her out of the car, with Alex’s help and load her onto it.

“Sir, what happened?” the nurse, whose name tag reads Naomi asks. We are suddenly moving through the door to what I think is the emergency room.

“She was hit by a lorry,” I say, almost in tears. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Don’t worry sir, we will take good care of her,” She says. “Is she a friend?”

“No, fiancé actually.”

Shit, no turning back now, Kaz.

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