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Episode 8

Jide Babalola regretted his decision to attend Anitaā€™s party the moment he stepped into her house.

It wasnā€™t because he was not excited to be there. On the contrary, the music blaring from strategically placed speakers matched the tempo of his heartbeat as his feet picked up the rhythm. He danced in, his stylish loafers gliding over the marbled floors as his neck twisted to and fro, his eyes feeding themselves on the lavish dĆ©cor of Anita Bankoleā€™s house.
His concern was that he was enjoying it too much.

Getting into the gated compound had been strenuous, but he supposed it was sensible for Anita to have restricted entry to her party. She was a popular young woman, her towering self-confidence and in-your-face attitude was one that was bound to inspire equal feelings of fascination and dislike, so being security conscious was definitely a necessity.

After he had identified himself from a long list at the gate, and undergone a second vetting check at the doors of the house, he had finally been allowed to enter the six room duplex which showed Anitaā€™s flair for the dramatic. Most of her furnishing was in red or other vibrant colours like orange and greens that screamed out at Jide as he entered the living room filled with jostling couples and the smell of food. While there was no doubt that Anita had not held back any expense in decorating her home, the brashness of the colours set Jideā€™s teeth on edge. It wasnā€™t something he could bear for longer than a few hours.
All the gold-plated chandeliers and ostentatious electronics only made him shake his head. He knew she was from a rich home, but the wastefulness still staggered him.

Determined to enjoy himself, he mingled with other people at the party, some of whom he recognized from work and elsewhere. He also recognized a few a-list celebrities. Anita had gone all out to make sure her party hosted the crĆØme de la crĆØme of society, probably so she could get her event splashed on tabloids and gossip magazines. It was a lifestyle Jide was not accustomed to, having come from an average family from where he learnt the values of hard work that helped him become successful in adulthood.

Jide didnā€™t know what it was like to be rich and petted as Anita obviously was, but he could imagine it, so he was not quick to judge her. He had seen her twice, in two different flamboyant attires, but had avoided her. He planned to only approach her in the protective company of the group of friends he was standing with; he was not willing to face the temptation of her luscious body after drinking alcohol.

ā€œMehn! There are more than enough hot girls in this party!ā€ Peter, one of Jideā€™s colleagues said, a leer on his face as he glanced around. ā€œThereā€™s no way Iā€™m going home alone this night.ā€

Jide joined in the general laugh that followed his friendā€™s words, also admiring the scantily clad girls that strutted around, showing off gleaming legs and tightly packed cleavage. ā€œI leave that to you guys o. You know Iā€™m now a boring married man.ā€

The group of guys jeered. ā€œAbeg, make we hear word.ā€ Peter scoffed. ā€œMan na man. Deny it all you want, but we will always look outside. Man cannot live by bread alone.ā€

Usually, Jide would defend himself fervently whenever he heard people generalize that way, but he was struck by the memory of his reaction to Anita and he judiciously sipped on the cold beer in his hand. He had no plans to cheat on his wife, but it would be hypocritical to behave like a saint.

ā€œEven these girls serving drinks and food are hot too.ā€ Peter said, eyeing a girl as she walked past. Her white blouse and short black skirt hugged her body and she gave Peter a practiced smile before she sashayed off, a tray balanced in her hands.

Jide laughed as Peter grabbed another server. The loud music echoed in his head and alcohol moved in his blood, loosening his tongue. ā€œYouā€™re right. They all have their price jare! All of these servers are runs girls, all you have to do is bargain andā€¦ā€

His words trailed to a halt as he saw the face of the girl Peter had grabbed. She was looking at him in shock, her face angry as she yanked her arm from Peterā€™s grasp.

ā€œFlorence!ā€ Jide gasped, recognizing her.

Florence stalked away, the tray of food in her hands wobbling. Jide ignored the laughter of his friends and went after her, guilt filling him. From the short talk he had with her the other day, he knew the secretary was a decent young lady, probably working at Anitaā€™s party to make a little extra money.

She did not deserve to have heard what he said.

He followed her, pushed through dancing entwined couples and finally lost her trail, ending up in a part of the large house he did not know. His head throbbed with the effect of the beer he had been drinking as he turned around and tried to make his way back to the party, hoping he would see Florence and apologize.

He suddenly gasped and staggered as someone pushed him to a wall and pressed a soft body against his.

ā€œFinally. I have you right where I want you.ā€ a triumphant giggle blew warm breath into his face.

Jide looked down, his heart thumping as soft lips drew close to his own. He blinked in the dim light and groaned when he recognized the face in front of him.

He had just run into the hostess of the party in the last place he would have wanted to. In a deserted place, with no one to interrupt, his willpower weakened by alcohol.

There was nothing standing between him and the seductive Anita now.

Things were bound to get intense very quickly.


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