Operation Stop The Wedding!!! by TM David West “Jealousy, that dragon which slays love under the pretence of keeping it alive.” – Havelock Ellis. Episode Twelve “Oluchi, please turn down the volume of your music player.” Ama was lying on the U-shaped settee, eyes glued to the TV. “You are going to deafen yourself with that earpiece plugging in your ears.” “But it’s my ears.” Oluchi retorted with a careless lift of her shoulders. “It’s loud, Oluchi. I can even feel the vibrations here. Turn it down.” Her tone was firm and brooked no arguments. The eighteen year old teenager made faces at her sister’s back before deciding to turn off the player sitting prettily beside her. “Since you don’t want me listening to my music can we at least watch something a little more up-to-date?” She pouted, glaring sulkily at the Colombo series her sister was so entranced with. “Up-to-date doesn’t equate interesting, Oluchi.” “At least it means seeing some en-vogue fashion styles not trench coats and 1984 dress styles.” Oluchi grumbled. “One would think you’d have better taste being a fashion designer and all.” She added just so to take a swipe at her elder sister. Ama merely chuckled. The doorbell rang twice. They both turned their heads just as Bose scurried past to open the door. Reginald strode into the exquisitely furnished living room a minute later, dressed in joggers and T-shirt. “Hello ladies.” He greeted with a smile. “Good evening, Uncle Regie.” Oluchi responded getting to her feet. “I’ll just take my drink and leave you to your ancient, trench-coat series.” She said to Ama, bending to pick up her glass of juice. “Please excuse me, Uncle Regie, I’m off to my room to watch something more edifying.” “By edifying she means – filled with young, en-vogue stylishly dressed and looking-half-the-time-naked Hollywood stars.” Ama explained shaking her head at the retreating figure in jeans bum-short and tank top. “Ha, the fantasy of every youth of today – be that Hollywood star.” Reginald dropped into the seat Oluchi had just vacated. “What can I get you, Regie?” She slipped her legs down from the sofa. “Nothing… for now.” He shook his head. “A man who’d messed up has no business taking a drink when he’s got to brave up and eat humble-pie.” His dark eyes were sombre and rueful. “Messed up?” Ama eyed him warily. “Yeah, big time.” He nodded grim-faced. “I acted like some lovesick puppy – whining and throwing tantrums.” His eyes turned sheepish. “I guess I was knocked on my face by the news.” Ama gaped at him. Was he finally coming around? “I guess it was a shock.” She allowed, still a little wary. “It was a bolt from the blue.” Reginald admitted. “But however shocking it might have been, my attitude was all wrong.” He crossed his hands on his knees. “We weren’t dating anymore, so my self-righteous rage was… well, misplaced.” The smile on his lips was self-deprecatory and apologetic. “This is an unexpected change.” Ama blurted out. “I mean I wanted… I prayed for you to come to accept this at some point. But not quite so soon, especially after our last encounter.” “Well, the Good Lord must have heard your prayers.” Reginald hoped God doesn’t strike him dead for including His Name in his treachery. “Wow! It must be a miracle then.” He shrugged. “I’m just a man beginning to appreciate what he has.” He said simply. “And though I might have lost you to another man, I don’t entirely want to lose your friendship.” Ama watched him with considering eyes. He looked so earnest. It surely must be a miracle. Feeling the relief and the joy seep in, she dashed to his side and flung her arms round him in a hug. “Oh, Regie you don’t know how happy and relieved you’ve made me.” Reginald breathed in her feminine scent, enjoying her warmth. “You are my girl, Ama. You will always be my girl.” Ama straightened up. “Now I can plan my wedding with a tranquil heart.” “And I want to help in every way I can.” Reginald declared. “Anything you need – anytime, any day.” “What do you know about planning a wedding?” She teased lightly poking him on the rib. “You’d be surprised. I got talents you know nothing about.” “Oh yeah?” She laughed. “I’d like to see those talents.” “Then put me to use.” He insisted. “And may I suggest you begin by introducing me to your Photographer fiancé.” “You want to meet Ken?” “Of course I want to meet him! You don’t think I’m just going to hand you over to him without first giving him a thorough look-over?” She pursed her lips. “Are you for real here, Regie?” “Hey, stop prevaricating. Or are you scared to let him meet me?” He winked. Ama jumped to her feet. “Fine, let’s do this. I’ll just grab my handbag upstairs and then we’ll hit Reflections Studio. I was meeting him there later anyways.” “Grab that bag and let’s go meet our man.” Reginald nudged her forward, smiling smugly when she raced off in the direction of the staircase. **** Alex was looking at the just-washed photos spread out on the wide Formica-covered table. “Don’t touch those.” Ken warned. “They are still not dry enough and I don’t want your handprints marking them.” “Like I would.” Alex pouted. She’d been tempted to. She was always tempted to whenever she had the opportunity to see his freshly washed pictures, see how they feel. Folding her hands behind her, she decided to abandon the don’t-touch photos and move over to join Ken by the film development area. “It’s nice of you to come spend a boring Saturday here with me company.” He turned to smile at her. “I’m never bored with you.” Alex purred, drawing closer. “Hmm?” Ken muttered absent-mindedly. “Ha, looks like they are ready.” Referring to the films. “What can I do to help?” “Just keep those hands out of my sink.” He ordered. He got out the developed pictures and spread them out on the dry mount press. When he was through, he grabbed her hand. “Come on let’s go back into the office, I don’t want you succumbing to the temptation of touching them.” Alex curled her fingers into his. “Hmm – long, slim and warm. I just love your hands.” “You do?” Ken raised both of their hands, linked together. “They do look alike, don’t they? Which makes me feel less masculine.” He grimaced. “You shouldn’t worry about being masculine because I can assure you – you are real macho.” She batted her lashes at him. “Now I know you came here to take a swipe at my poor physique.” He pinched her hand before letting it go. “You are mean.” “Ouch.” Alex rubbed the back of her palm. “That hurt.” She complained. “I think you should kiss it better.” She marched over to the mahogany table and stretched out her hand. Ken stared at the outstretched slim, toned hand and made as if he wanted to kiss it but snapping forward his right hand hit it again, laughing manically as he did so. Alex stared at him with furious exasperated eyes, God, why did he never take her seriously? Maybe because he is your best-friend not your boyfriend, the sane-thinking part of her mind said. He was once my boyfriend and he will be again, she retorted silently, pushing away from the table in a bid to squash the annoying voice. Ken grabbed her hand to stop her, holding his heaving chest. “Hey, don’t be mad. Where’s your sense of humour?” His eyes were still filled with laughter. “Right in my head where the pain from your hard knocks is still vibrating.” Alex snapped sulkily. “Okay, let me kiss it better.” She snatched her hand away. “Keep that laughing mouth to yourself.” She glared at him. Ken laughed again. Then slipping his hand round her waist, pulled her to the table. “Come on let’s look at some photos over here. That way you can cuss out my usual way-too-perfect-sleek-looking models.” He winked as he used her descriptive term for the models he photographs. She resisted for a moment but his body felt so nicely warm against hers, she decided that putting aside her sulkiness was in her own best interest. So making sure her body stayed glued to his, she picked a picture from the table and regarded it with critical eyes. The model was wearing a knee-length fabulously designed Ankara dress with a ruffled neckline. And truth be told, she did look way-too-perfect and sleek. Angling her head to the left, she turned to face him. “I find this model way, way, way too perfect.” Ken grinned. “So I’m beginning to think, it’s not just the models.” She deepened her drawl, edged closer. “It is the Photographer… I do believe he’s got the perfect touch.” She parted her lips, flicked her lashes at him and leaned forward. Something vibrated between them and Ken jerked, knocking his jaw against her forehead. “Ouch!” They both cried out at same time. “Geez! You’ve knocked aside my jaw with your big, rock head.” Ken glared at her massaging his jaw. “Why did you jerk like that?” Alex demanded, furiously rubbing her forehead. “And my head is not a big rock.” Her eyes were fiery with anger, why did he have to jerk away like she was something repugnant? “It is if it nearly dislocated my jaw.” Ken muttered, somewhat irritable at the griping pain in his jaw. “And what were you doing, going all dewy-eyed and raspy-voiced?” “I was not dewy-eyed and I definitely don’t have a raspy voice, you dim-witted… clueless man.” “Why are you cursing me now?” “Because your bloody hard-boned jaw nearly cracked open my skull and all you could think of is yourself.” They both glared at each, eyes fiery and furious, nose flared and breathe huffing. The next second they were gripping their sides and howling with laughter. And that was how Ama and Reginald met them. Two figures clutching their side, laughing so hard and crumpled against the table spread full with glossy, gleaming photos. ************ ************ ************ Episode Thirteen This isn’t a crush, it’s obsession. You are never not in my thoughts. Your scent carries across a room and paralyzes me with longing.” – Gwen Hayes. ****** Alex managed to hold back her laughter as Amarachi came into the office with a narrowed-eyed Reginald following closely behind. And what was he doing here? She wondered pushing up from the table. “Hello Ama.” She greeted turning with slowly-sobering eyes. Ama was wearing figure-hugging multi-coloured leggings with a yellowish-cream flared top that went just beneath her curvy butt. “Hi Alex, so nice to see you here.” She swung over to give her a hug. Letting go of Alex, she moved over to where Ken was now standing watching the scene with still amused eyes. “Hey baby.” She cooed, slipping her arms around him and leaning in to plant a light kiss on his lips. He pulled her closer and wrapped her in a hug. “Hello, my love. Hmm, you smell so nice.” He nuzzled at her neck. Ama giggled. Reginald watched the display with dispassionate eyes, his lips curled in a cynical twist. Shifting his eyes, he found Alex staring at them, her eyes wide and… wishful. Ama cut short the loving display by sidling sideways. “Okay, enough with that.” She said briskly. “I’ve got someone here who wants to meet you.” “Yeah, I can see that.” Ken said, looking at Reginald with somewhat speculative eyes. “Got me wondering if I was safe.” Ama chortled. “Of course you are safe, silly. This is Reginald Akin-Thomas.” She introduced gliding over to Reginald’s side. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you who he is. Regie, this is my photographer, Kenneth Okoruwa.” Ken stepped forward. “Hello Reginald.” He offered his hand, then pulled it back and raised the two in a surrender form. “I just want to say, if you want to take a swing at me, man – it’s all good, I understand.” Reginald gave a low, rumbling laugh. “I don’t just want to take a swing at you, pal. I want to break your neck. But I’m thinking I’ll leave my girl here broken-hearted if I did.” He shot Ama a wink. “But then again, a handshake is actually in order. For I got to say, I simply admire the man who was wise enough to quickly put a ring on that finger.” He stretched out his hand. “You are the man, Ken.” Ken took the hand, returned the smile. “Thank you. And you are the better man for doing this.” Ama beamed, her hands clasped together in front of her. “And Regie, I am sure you know Alex. You are sort of colleagues… or would rivals be a better description?” She flashed a grin. Everyone laughed. “Colleagues sound just fine.” Reginald smiled. “Hello Alexandra. I’m surprised to see you here at a photography studio… not here to have your picture taken, are you?” Ken answered before Alex could say a word. “Oh, Lexie is my best buddy gal. We’ve known each for so long… much as you and Mara.” “Lexie and Mara,” Reginald mimed. “I see now why you are a favourite with the ladies.” “Hardly a favourite,” Ken refuted with a chuckle. “I just got lucky with this one.” He gave Ama a peck on the cheek. “Aren’t you the lucky devil.” Reginald intoned dryly. “I sure am.” Ken laughed. “Hey but it’s real nice having you here, man.” He gave him a tap on the back. “So ever been in a photography studio before?” “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.” “Then allow me show you what mine looks like.” “Cool.” Ken turned to Alex and Ama standing silently watching the exchange. “You ladies want to tag along?” “Absolutely not.” Alex declined. “I think we can manage to entertain ourselves while you do your tour.” “If you are sure…” “We are.” Ama asserted waving them off. “Besides I spy some of our photos on the table and think we can feast our eyes on those while you guys are gone.” She sent Alex a camaraderie wink. “Alright, since you ladies are sure. This way then, Regie… you don’t mind if I call you Regie?” “You already did. So I guess I don’t mind.” Reginald followed him through a filmy glass door a faint smile playing about his mouth. The second they stepped into the medium-sized room, the faint smile gave way to wide-eyed amazement. The pale-gold painted room was like a mini photography museum. There was an array of skilfully shot photographs, methodically hung on the wall and some tilted against it from the floor. It was a breathtaking display of beauty, life and passion subtly and boldly defined through the lens of a camera held by a professional photographer. “Wow!” He exclaimed. “These are amazing… beyond amazing.” He wandered slowly round the room. “They look almost… alive.” Ken grinned. “Yeah, it’s all about knowing your camera potential, understanding your lighting and creating the right mood.” “Sounds like a photography trick… with amazing end results.” Ken laughed easily. “I guess it is. I mostly do Family Portraits and Events. But every once in a while I delve into Aerial and Architectural shots.” He gestured to the aerial portraits of what was obviously Lagos at night and architectural shots of big Abuja buildings. “They are great.” Reginald commented. More than great, he thought silently. “You got great talent.” “Thanks.” They moved past a couple of awesome looking Black and White photos of people at different kinds of events and some studio shots. When they came before a portrait of Alex, Reginald felt his jaw drop open, he had to make a concerted effort to pull it up again. She was in her office – the beige wall background made it obvious. She was wearing a light-grey suit – whether trouser or skirt – he couldn’t tell because she was sitting. Her laptop was open in front of her and her phone was in her hand. It should be an ordinary given that it was Alex and she was at work. But it was jaw-dropping extraordinary. She was laughing in the photo and her face – her entire visible frame – looked so alive, so carefree… almost exquisite. Unbelievable. Ken saw the speechless wonder in the dark eyes and his mouth curved. “One of my favourite shots. Caught her one of those rare moments when she’s truly… uninhibited.” “Hmm.” Reginald pulled back, a little unnerved to be caught gaping. And even more so when he realised he’d really been gaping. Christ, it was Ms Alexandra for heaven’s sake – workaholic, competitive Ms Alexandra. Don’t start losing it, man. “So, is this it or have we more of the studio to see?” He asked with focused coolness, trying to steady himself. “There surely is. This way, man.” He led him through another door into the darkroom. Once again Reginald found himself surprised by what he was seeing. The reddish lit room was superbly equipped with an assortment of what Ken pointed out as darkroom work items. There were Developing/Processing trays, Print washers and an Enlarger and Negative carrier the metal Dry mount press. It was a fully-packed room. “Impressive I must say.” He said as they walked back to the office. “It surely puts a different light on the whole photography thing. But I am guessing not all photographers have Darkrooms such as this.” “Well not all consider it important in this digital age.” Ken allowed him to step into the office before following. “And moreover not everyone can afford it.” “I can see why.” Reginald nodded. The ladies were still at the mahogany table, wowing over fashion pictures. Or rather Ama was wowing while Alex stood by doing her damndest not to look bored stiff as far as Reginald could see. He went in their direction. “You look like you are having fun, Alexandra.” Alex stiffened. Mostly from the taunting note in his deep voice but she feared his deep voice so close to her ears contributed a little to her unconscious reaction. “Tons of fun.” She gritted, her eyes shooting daggers at him. “Oh Kenny, these pictures are so unbelievably beautiful.” Ama gushed, oblivious to the tension between the two people standing close to her. “I can’t believe it.” Ken joined them at the table. “Yeah, they are simply gorgeous, right?” “Indeed they are.” Reginald put in. He picked up a picture of a gorgeous leggy model in Ankara bum shorts and a tank top holding a ball. “Wow, she’s got amazing ball grip.” Alex gave an unladylike snort. Reginald tossed her a lascivious wink before turning to Ken. “Hey, talking about balls, why don’t you join me and a couple of my friends next weekend for a basketball game – I’ve got a mini court at home.” Ken’s jerked up his head. “What? Oh no, no…” He was shaking his head. “You can’t say no, man.” Reginald drew out a card, bent over the table to scribble something. “That’s my address right there.” He passed a wary-eyed Ken the card. “Be there.” “Oh God.” Ken accepted the card feeling like he’d just been ensnared into a death trap. “I’m not really heavy on sports.” “It’s just an easy game among friends not the NBA.” Reginald hit him on the shoulder as he edged towards the door. “You ready to head back, Ama?” Reginald was already edging towards the door. “Oh not yet, I want to look over these photos with Ken.” Ama said with a cajoling look. “Yes we should.” Ken agreed readily. “Besides, there are a whole lot more inside.” “But Ken you promised to drive back home.” Alex protested. “I didn’t come in my car, remember?” “Oh yes, I did. Ah…” “I can drop you off.” Reginald offered. Alex almost felt like smacking him. “I don’t want to put you out of your way.” Alex objected with a strained smile. I simply don’t want you to, her eyes said silently to him. “You are not.” Reginald flashed her a knowing smile. Ken eyed the two of them, a puzzled frown on his forehead. “You know I’m somewhat puzzled by your sudden friendship. You two always acted like sworn enemies.” “Hardly.” Reginald debunked his smile deepening into mischief. “Besides we’re working together on a project.” Ken’s brows shot up. “You are?” He exchanged a look with Ama, who lightly lifted her shoulders. “Mmm hmm.” Reginald affirmed with a nod. “Now come on Alexandra let’s leave the lovebirds to coo and boo at each other.” He took her by the arm and pulled her towards the door. “See you Saturday, Ken.” Shutting the door before the befuddled Ken could utter another word. “Let go off me, you big interfering oaf.” Alex snapped the minute they stepped outside. He dropped her hand with a careless fling. “You want to tell me what you were doing here with her?” She demanded furiously rubbing her arm. “What else – I came over to meet my rival of course.” He headed in the direction he’d parked his car. “Well, your ill-timed appearance ruined my plan.” She ground out. “I was well on my way to seducing him.” Reginald stopped and turned. “Looking like that?” His arched, cynical eyes ran over her three-quarter cotton shorts and polo shirt clad body and stopped at the sneakers covered feet. “I don’t think so.” He gave her a sneering smile before walking on. The derisive smile infuriated Alex. “You bloody arrogant male, you think you know everything, don’t you?” “I know I’d take a female dressed in curve-emphasizing leggings over one looking like a sports fan any day.” He told her brutally. “Get into the car.” “I am not getting into that car with you.” Alex told him frostily. “Get into the damn car, Alexandra. You got people looking at us and wondering if we are having a lover’s spat.” Alex spared him a scorching stare. “I’d rather be lovers with a snake.” “And I’m sure it will just slither all over you with cool kisses.” He made an eerie hissing sound. “You’re disgusting.” He jumped into the driver’s seat. “Get in, Lexie. I promised your guy inside there that I’d drop you off and that’s what I intend to do. Besides, you and me are partners in crime, remember?” Alex eyed the opened passenger door of the Honda jeep dubiously. “I can’t imagine what induced me to partner with a conceited, annoying jerk like you.” She grumbled moving reluctantly towards the car. Reginald watched her as she slid into the car muttering under her breath. “You know you should be thanking me for saving you drooling embarrassingly all over those two. Maybe I should have caught your wishy-washy slobbering face on my phone camera when they’d kissed earlier. You gotta have a poker face, General.” “Just shut up and drive.” Reginald laughed merrily. Swinging the gear into reverse, he pulled out of the open parking lot. “Easy on the temper, General… it is anti-strategic to lose your head.” “And will you stop calling me that!” She ordered twisting to furiously slap on her seat belt cursing the fate that had foisted the miserable Reginald Akin-Thomas on her. •••Sheyifunmi•••
Posted on: Fri, 08 Aug 2014 16:13:11 +0000
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