The Performer

John was livid. How dare she?! To bash him in front of everyone like that – both juniors and seniors! This was one of the reasons he hated this job. The monthly exercises in humiliation masked as monthly performance reviews were getting to him. It was bad enough when it came from the divisional directors but to come from her – a mere senior manager! – it irked his soul.

Was is it his fault that the market was slow? Was it his fault that the old general was voted back into power and that the people wanted change? Ehn, change had come and a slow market was part of or a result of that change. He knew his figures for last month were bad, possibly his worst figures in months. He hated this feeling. He liked the feeling that came with meeting his targets so being brought down to earth like this was humiliating.

He had hoped to just bluster his way through his presentation but she had tenaciously and meticulously pointed out gaps, questioned him on every point, admonished and made him look inept. He raged inside all through her pontificating but outwardly he kept his cool. ‘Dere Coker, she was everyone’s darling, a brilliant officer who was always winning. Oh how he would like to see her lose just once, the fall from grace would be epic. Indeed quite a number of his colleagues were looking forward to that day but so far that day had not come.

He bunched his fingers into a fist as he paced up and down the room. He was worked up and he needed to let go and relax. Next month would be better, he promised himself. He and his team were positive that pending transactions would go through. He would just have to be more bullish. He had to go see Alhaji Dutse and Chief Udechukwu, they were his hope for next month and in fact the rest of the financial year. John pulled out his phone and set a couple of reminders.

As he looked through his phone a message came in. It was from her – ‘Dere Coker. He read the contents and his annoyance increased. Aaargh!! He would have to put her in her place! Forget that she was relatively new to the organization and had won the hearts of many of the bosses including the chief executive with her performance so far; forget that she boasted a masters from an Ivy League school; forget that she knew her onions and was a hard worker; forget that she was increasingly becoming influential; he would deal with her and hurt her in ways he knew how and she would always remember the name John Adeleke.

He snapped out of his thoughts as the lock turned and the door opened. He looked up as she walked - no sashayed - into  the room with her curve-hugging blouse and skirt. His eyes turned into slits as they made eye contact, he John Adeleke and ‘Dere Coker, adversaries in more ways than one. She approached him, eyeing him as he drew himself to his full height. She stopped right in front of him, tilting her head up to maintain eye contact with this proud young man.

John looked at her, taking her all in as she glared at him.

“Why do you have to be so nasty?” he asked.

“Because you like me that way,” she replied.

He clenched his jaws looking at her and tried to control himself.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

She laughed. “What lesson?”

Take off your clothes.”

She smiled at him.

 “Yes, papi. Mr. Performer.”

THE END.

Prose: Happy Birthday.

Timi woke up to the sounds of chirping, the bird had started its early evening cry. He opened one eye and looked down at Ronke who lay on his chest breathing softly. He lifted an arm and looked at his watch confirming that they had not been asleep for long. They had been at it for about 45 minutes, right from when they had shut the door to the room to the third explosion. Well third for him. He could never tell when she was satisfied or when one orgasm ended and the other began amidst her screams; she was non-verbal and fluid like that. She moved at his pace, was ready when he was ready and stopped when he stopped. Her appetite was ravenous and he was happy he could match hers.

Sex with Ronke was not dull neither was it boring. What made it work was perhaps the tacit chemistry that they shared. Physically she was a handful and he felt like a man with her.

She stirred a little and then settled down again. They did not have much time especially as they had chosen to do this during the day. Giving their busy schedules and lifestyles nighttime seemed to be the only reasonable time for such things, so daytime sex was rare.

Timi closed his eyes. He would have to get up soon. He opened them again and gazed on Ronke, the woman he loved with all his heart.

He had met Ronke all those years ago during his NYSC …10 years now. Although he found her very attractive, he never really got to know her then; they would talk occasionally but nothing serious. They went their separate ways but crossed paths two years into his job at the advertising agency where he was now the assistant creative director. She worked for a media agency and was part of the team that came for a presentation one sunny morning. Her agency had done a good job and were signed up which made their paths cross even more. She would stop by at his office and they would talk a little. He then plucked up the courage and asked her on a date. She obliged and their relationship blossomed and blossomed. Now they were here in her bed, a bed he had grown accustomed to over the last eight years. Eight years. How do you not get tired of sleeping with someone in that period of time? He wondered sometimes. But Timi knew he would never tire of her, even when she was old and grey, and he hoped it was the same for her.

They had had their downtimes but never over anything serious. She got him and he in turn got her totally. She never annoyed him, nor him her. Of course like every other women she could get impatient with him sometimes but that was it. She never nagged, did not cling, pushed him when necessary but with all the encouragement required. He tried to be the man she wanted him to be, treated her with enormous respect, and cared for her as much as he could. But deep down inside he told himself that she deserved more than he could give her and wondered if he could ever be enough for her. She never complained though which was a good thing as well as a bad thing. Well maybe it was because she was fiercely independent. She played by her own rules and one just had to be very confident to be with her. Was he confident? Sometimes he felt that perhaps she just felt sorry for him and all. One could be tempted to say that it was just the sex. The sex was very very good but it was more than that. They enjoyed each other’s company and gave each other fair consideration. Although he was the passionate, opinionated kind he reined it in a little for her sake. He never wanted to offend. Ronke probably noticed this and tended to be less flippant than he knew she was. Why did he love her so?

It was probably her self-confidence. She exuded it from day one, it showed in every area of her life. Her weaknesses? Hmmm…

“A penny for your thoughts.”

Timi looked down at her as she smiled still with her eyes closed.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. How long have you been awake?”

“Not long either.”

She opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at him. “Mr. Man, you wore me out as usual.”

Timi grinned sheepishly, “You bring it out of me baby”, he retorted.

Ronke smiled and moved out of his embrace, moving up to his face. “I do, don’t I?”

She kissed him on the lips.

11 seconds later she pulled away.

“Shade will soon be back”, she said as she searched for her bra.

Timi looked at his watch. It was 4:30.

He sighed as he collected himself. He picked up his clothes from the chair beside the bed. She had often teased him about how he always managed to make sure his clothes were neatly arranged before getting into bed with her. He got dressed quickly as she headed into the bathroom. It would not do good for a 16 year old to walk in on them naked.

Ronke emerged from the bathroom and toweled her glistening body. He watched her.

“What?” she asked coyly.

“Nothing” he responded.

“Mr. Man,” she laughed with a knowing look in her eye.

They talked shop and in a short while she was dressed up. She walked up to him and he held her close trying to take in as much of her as he could.

“Are you losing weight?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Madam, small small o. Take it easy.”

Ronke laughed.

The doorbell rang. She kissed him.

“Happy birthday again”, she whispered and then led him to the living room.

“Good afternoon sir… Uncle Timi.”

“Hey Shade, how are you?

“Fine, thank you sir.”

“That’s good. I see your mum is taking good care of you.”

“Yeah she tries.” Shade said with a smile.

“Okay so I’ll see you later.”

Ronke walked him out to his car. He got in.

“So call me?” she asked.

“I will”, he promised.

Timi drove down her street and out of her estate, his thoughts with Ronke. Why they were not together, he was not sure. He had thought about this often. Maybe it was his fault or just a case of bad timing for him and for her but all he knew was that in another place and another time he would definitely be with her, the way they should be.

32 minutes later he climbed up to his apartment. He fiddled with his keys and slipped one into the lock. But before he could turn the key the door opened from the other side.

“Happy Birthday Daddy!!!!!”

The chorus was led by his six year old daughter who stood beside her mother as she held forth his birthday cake.

Timi smiled as he hugged his wife and son. He closed the door behind him shutting Ronke out for the time being.

 ########################################

Does it Matter Where I Work?

Okay so over the weekend  I got invited to my old friend Tony’s soiree. I had nothing to do and figured it would be a good idea to go mix with people and enjoy an evening of small chops, drinks and nice conversation, plus Tony really knows how to throw these things. These objectives were achieved with the added benefit of food for thought that inspired this article.

I got there an hour late and met about 10 people with 3 of us being guys. So my first conversation was with a group of three women. I introduced myself and they did as well and one of them quickly asked, “Are you Tony’s colleague?”I responded in the negative and the conversation petered out almost as soon as it had began. 

I gravitated towards where the drinks were as any responsible young man would. Soon enough drink in hand I found myself seated with a young lady and we went through the introductions.

“Hi, I’m TJ.”

“Hello, my name is Anna.”

“Pleased to meet you Anna.”

“Same here…. Do you work with Tony?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh ok, so where do you work?”….

I told her and this time we spent some time in good conversation about our jobs and other things before we both had to go mingle with the now growing group.

I met a few old friends and acquaintances and we played catch up but at the back of my mind was why the two women I spoke to started by asking me whether I worked in the same office with Tony? It couldn't be a coincidence. I mean, to know where I worked it would have been easier to ask just that: “Where do you work?” or the generic “So what do you do?” which usually gives elbow room for vague responses. I had a hunch and it seemed to make small sense.

I encountered another girl at the small chops table and thankfully we just said hi and smiled at each other. But it happened again, the question: “Are you Tony’s colleague?” No way it was a coincidence. This time I just smiled and said no. After we got that out of the way, we talked for a long while as she regaled me with her mischievous antics as a teenager. It was fun really.

As I walked towards my car I smiled a knowing smile as I fully accepted my hunch. You see my friend Tony works in one of the well-known oil servicing companies. He lives in an estate with houses that price their rent at figures I could not afford even if my annual salary was tripled. He was single and maybe they thought I was. It made sense. So what if I had said “Yes, I do”, what would have happened I wonder? Would I have been accorded more civility by the first set of girls? The other two women were very cool but it was still odd that they would ask me that same specific question first. I wondered if the other guys in the room got the same question. I may never know.