The restaurant was obviously busy that evening, it was on a valentine evening and almost everyone walked in as a dual, a couple to be precise. It was a day that was special to many but same as other days to me. Love was just a hypocritical thing to be cerebrated, you only say you love someone when attracted to something they posses. You only need to announce the millions under your possession and all girls will swear upon their breasts that they love you. That explains to you why richest but ugly men marries the cutest ladies whereas handsome poor men die single or ends up marrying leftovers of the tycoons, jilted used exhausted ladies. I never believed in love, not even when in London for my studies, I stuck to sports and novels.
I walked into the manager’s office to inform him about the minister’s conference which was to be held in our restaurant in two weeks time, I had just received the news from Dad via phone call.
I hated it when every worker around saluted me with respect and honour, I was just a minister’s son not the minister himself, I didn’t deserve all the honour. At the Manager’s office door I collided with a girl , she was carrying her suitcase so she stumbled and almost fell down. She turned to me sharply and I saw there was tears on her cheeks, her eyes were red. “Have you no eyes young man?!” She yelled.
“Am sorry, it was an accident…” I tried to explain. It was clear that she never knew whom I was. She cursed as she collected her suitcase and headed downstairs, by then everyone around had stopped to witness, others with their mouths agape. Two securities rushed to arrest her as I got into the manager’s office to inquire in whom the girl was.
“Good evening sir, welcome.” The fat man greeted with respect.
“Thank you, tell me about the lady who has just left your office with a suitcase.” There was confusion on his face.
“She was just our customer sir, she wanted a room for her night on credit, her master has just thrown her out of the house.”
“She was a house girl?”
“Yes sir.” He answered.
“Did you give her the room?”
“No sir, you know we don’t operate on credit, its your father’s rule number one sir.”
There was a knock at the door and one guard stepped in.
“Sorry for interruption sir, we have arrested the girl that has just insulted you, we are about to take her to the police station. Thank you sir.” He headed to the door.
“Bring her upstairs and into this office.” I ordered.
“Right away sir.” He opened the door and I could hear his boots down the stairs.
I could see confusion on the manager’s face but he had no courage to ask me a single question. He was approximately my Dad’s age, I found her working in the restaurant when I was born, by then he was not as old as he seemed to be.
“Am sorry sir, I never knew it was you, please forgive me.” She wept. There was something in her voice that seemed unique, something attractive, something charming.
“Stand up, what’s your name?” She had been kneeling on the floor.
“Thank you sir, am Serena Wairimu.”
I ordered the two guards who had brought her to get out, only the Mananger and I were left to listen to her.
“You had tears when we met at the door, why were you crying?” She touched her eyes as though to confirm whether there were more tears.
“I don’t know where to sleep sir, its already late and master threw me out of the house.” She had flesh tears forming.
“But why would he do that?” I was eager, why would a man send a girl out of the house at night? In such a dangerous city!
“His wife is not around, he wanted to sleep with me and I refused.” I should have guessed it. She was weeping uncontrollably as she explained that her home was in Embu where she had lived with her mother who was a local brewer , her mother had been arrested and she had no option than to drop out of school to follow her friends in the city seeking for a well known job, house helping . The Mananger hesitated when I ordered him to giver her one of the VIP rooms in sixth floor, he had no option than to obey. I ordered a guard to carry her suit case to her room. I never knew why I did all that, one thing I was sure was that I was not in love. I didn’t know how sure I was but my valentine had just began.
I knocked the door number 768 VIP and she opened, my wrist watch read 22.45 pm .
“Sir?” There was shock and confusion on her face.
“Am David not sir” I smiled to ease her tension . every part of her body was visible through her red pyjama, indeed it was on a valentine night. …Part two coming soon
Saaaaah wewe mono, nani alikwambia tunasomanga huu upuss wote?
Kama hutaki kusoma lala
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Nangoja kuona nyumba ya kifahari, kwenye ma designers… Jinga sana
Safi, part two ikuje Na sio tafadhali
Brare fuu keti pare kwanza ungoje approval ya elders, nugu
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vinnie is a very gayish word…acha uwes akupate
nmeona tu part one nkalenga…
ata @Atwoli anakuja kudrill oil… @uwesmake navy seal ndo anajua kuspot gayyyy… i think anamjua @Atwoli personally…
Atamkamua mkia shemale style?
are you serious ?
Ati unajiita nani tena. Take care of your pronouns
Zingatia ‘he’ na ‘she’.Unazichanganya, zinakuchanganya zinatuchanganya.
Wacheni mchezo,hekaya iko saaf shida ni series, vinie maliza hekaya upate likes na hatukuombi.
Never mind to bring part two because you sound like Oparanya!
Meffi story teller shagmondoz. Restaurant with rooms? 6th floor with room number 768? #lol #noogle, # not exposed to the world
I could see confusion on the manager’s face but he had no courage to ask me a single question. He was approximately my Dad’s age, I found her working in the restaurant when I was born, by then he was not as old as he seemed to be.
Nimewachia hapo