Husband Hunting; Chapter Three Preview

 

CHAPTER THREE

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“Oga watch where you are going na.” I grumble angrily, wincing at the pain shooting up my littlest toe nail, that definitely wasn’t made to carry the weight of a full-grown man. I bend down to grab the toe, trying to ease the pain.

The man who stepped on me stops and turns. It’s the same man I had seen when I passed through the security checkpoint at the gate. He had just alighted from a black Jeep and at the sight of him, I had stopped.

That’s what you do when you encounter one of God’s beautiful creations. You stop and stare, then thank God for putting these little drops of eye candy scattered all over the world for man and woman’s viewing pleasure.

The man is fine, as in F I N E fine. Did God still create handsome men like this? Because I swear, my life has been bereft of handsome men. He is tall, light-skinned, and wearing a dark blue senator, with a jaw that reminds me of Clark Kent. His black beards are a deep contrast to his light skin, and the combination makes my chest run riot.

It is entirely possible that the toe-grinding incident may have happened because I had been walking too closely to him like a deranged stalker.

“Were you referring to me?” the man asks as I stand up straight. He is looking at me with a sneer.

Does he suspect that I was walking too close to him like a star-struck teenager? Mortification makes my cheeks heat up and I stiffen my spine. It’s not all my fault. If he had been paying attention, the incident would have been avoided. “Yes, you. You stepped on me just now. Abi, you cannot see?”

He frowns, holding his body stiffly.

My Arrogant Radar starts tingling. I brush away the stab of attraction that has filtered into my stomach since I saw him. It’s not needed right now, when he is standing there and looking at me like I am speaking French. He stepped on me. He should apologise.  

“Can’t you say sorry? Oya, let me pass abeg.” I shuffle past him. The arrogance! He couldn’t even apologise for stepping on me. He thinks he owns the world because he has a Jeep. Rich people and their arrogance. When I become rich eh…

“Excuse me.” A baritone voice interrupts my thoughts. I turn.

The stiff, handsome, and arrogant man is standing behind me. “I wanted to apologise for stepping on you. And to tell you that you are rude.”

What? I realize that I said this in my head so I open my mouth and say it, “What?”

“I said you are rude,” he says matter-of-factly.

A young boy comes to him, trying to hand out a flyer, “Excuse me sir, I have…”

The arrogant man raises a finger in one quick motion without even glancing at him, and the boy stops talking.

Just like that!

The sight of his arrogance makes me boil with rage. “Mr. man, I am not one of your boy-boy or your house girl. You stepped on me and refused to apologise. Then you have the mind to call me rude? Who does that?”

The boy standing beside him is gaping at me like I have desecrated God. I ignore the hapless boy and glare at His Royal Arrogance.

This man’s money and looks are deceiving him. He thinks he can treat people anyhow. Well, I am not under his payroll, so I don’t have to accept rubbish from him.

“Oh, so now you don’t have anything to say,” I taunt with a sneer.

He removes his eyeglasses slowly, shooting me a dark stare. “Do you know who you are talking to?”

My stomach clenches as I look into his brown eyes. Damn it, stupid attraction. Why now? I cannot honestly be attracted to this pompous goat, can I?

Well, it is my body and I am in control of it. I wave off the attraction. “Are you God? What is wrong with you, sef? You step on people and expect them to apologise to you? So, because you think you have money…”

“I have money,” he interrupts.

I stop. “What?”

He breathes slowly, as if tired of talking to an errant child, “I do not think I have money. I have money,” he states baldly.

“And so? I should bow down to you? Or I should lick your feet? I don’t have time for this. My movie has started already.” I turn away with irritation, shaking my head as rage rolls off me in waves.

What an arrogant, pompous ass. Who does he think he is?  I wish I had the time to tell him off, but I won’t miss my movie for anyone.

I duck past the security guard checking purses, and rush to the elevator. Heading to the cinema, I hop impatiently on my feet while they prepare my order of popcorn, shawarma and a large drink. I have waited for this Jason Statham movie since last year. I don’t want to miss a single scene.

Then I see the pompous ass stepping into the cinema area, a hard frown on his face. What is he doing here?  From the arrogant way he carries himself, I would expect that he cannot deign to watch a movie with mere mortals like us. He should have a cinema in his house.

His eyes fall on me and I glare at him, opening my eyes wide so he will feel the extent of my anger. Then I pick up my order and walk away, rushing into the darkened cinema just as the opening credits roll in. 

This is the part I love most; me, a good action movie, and a dark cinema hall. I would have come with Adaora but that one was busy. If I don’t watch it today, twitter fam will kill me with spoilers tomorrow.

I climb the stairs, heading to the last row of seats. Here, my privacy is guaranteed and I won’t have neighbours who will distract me with their conversations.

But the hall is full tonight. Jason Statham fans came out in droves and at the last row, only two seats are empty, the ones near the wall. Even better. I squeeze past the people in the first seats and sit on the seat beside the wall, dropping my bag on the empty seat beside me.

I’m munching my shawarma during the second scene when somebody walks to me and says, “Move your bag.”

Without looking away from the screen, I pick my bag and drop it on the ground beside my leg.

“Hello again.”

I turn to warn the person beside me to distract me at his own peril. When I see who it is, I freeze, my eyes going wide.

What the hell? Pompous Ass is sitting right beside me.

End of Preview

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