C2 THE DINNER

I watched as the door slammed shut behind Mrs Dabs and her dog. I heaved slowly as I maintained my gaze on the closed door to avoid the sizzling stare standing in front of me. I don't know why he kept staring when he wouldn't even take my handshake in front of his aunt.

"Let's make something very clear and blunt."

Here we go.

"Don't ever in any circumstances enter my room. Don't ever under any pressure touch my personal belongings. And please, please don't touch Danielle's frame, and don't ever talk about her. Do we understand each other?"

Mrs Dabs is no longer here. He might have the right to tell me what to do because this is his property, but he doesn't get to talk to me like a slave.

"I do." I retorted staring blankly into his sullen eyes. There is no doubt he's been drinking. This is not the Lewis I see on TV. This is a different human being. He is a shadow of himself and his handsomeness is gradually fading. I don't know if a lady is capable of so much.

"Great. Now that we understand each other. The opposite room is yours. We have a party to attend tonight. Do you have any outfit aside from this 'whore looking' one?" He scanned my dress disdainfully.

"Whore-looking?" I couldn't believe my ears. This is exactly what Danielle used to put on. Even worse. All it takes was to push my boobs out a little and now I'm a whore?

"Mrs Dabs got this for me."

"I don't care. Don't wear it in my house anymore. This is not a club."

Here I am thinking the taciturn Lewis I knew in High school is going through some difficulties and all I have to do is bail him out. Not this Lewis. This Lewis is a garrulous and he sure has no respect whatsoever for a lady's dignity.

"I don't have any dress then."

"Then you stay at home."

"I am not staying."

"And why is that? You think you'll just walk your way into the family dinner looking like a purchased doll?"

"Purchased doll? Oh!" This is not looking good as I constantly remind myself to calm down. For Mrs Dab's sake.

"I'm not a purchased doll either. Perhaps you could find me something more befitting."

He dipped his hand in his pockets and tossed a credit card at me.

"Order something for yourself." And he walked back into his room.

This room is bigger than June's room. I wish she was here. I set down my bag on the bed, not having so much time to survey the whole room, I tapped on Jumia and screenshot three different outfits. I opened my WhatsApp and sent them to June. She is the fashionista. Her thumbs-up came with the second outfit. It's a cocktail gown with a slight slit above the knee. Net covered the basic part of the neck, he doesn't need to worry about my open cleavage. I checked the amount, three hundred and fifty-four dollars. That's quite expensive. I hit buy and entered the address to be delivered to. Then June's message popped in.

June: How is it?

Me: He is an asshole. Ugly too.

June: Ugly? What do you mean ugly? He is Lewis Dawson, the face. He is in almost every magazine in the country.

Me: Yeah well, he is a shadow now.

June: Oh! Poor little thing.

Me: Poor little thing? He called me whore. He said I looked like a purchased doll. ( I added an angry face emoji)

June: (hysterical laughing emoji) Have you seen Danielle? You have to live up to that lady's charisma or he's going to call you something worse.

Me: Something worse?

June: Yes, like country garbage.

I sent her an angry emoji and closed the chat when I heard footsteps. Then the knock landed on my door. I stood quickly and went for the door. I flung it open, stepping out. He was standing with his hands in his pockets. His eyes are no longer sullen. He looked fresh and smelled bath soap. He's taken his bath. Now he looks more humane. And as far away as his steps were from me, I could smell his aftershave. Damn, he looks good. June was right. He is the face.

"You haven't taken your bath?" He seems more angry than concerned.

"Oh! I just ordered the dress. It'll be here in twenty minutes."

"We leave in thirty."

"Thirty? I haven't....."

"In thirty. And please get yourself some fragrance." He eyed me scornfully before turning his back.

I smell my armpits when he was out of sight. I am not smelling. I never do. All these rich people with dark humor. I walked in and slammed the door hoping he didn't hear that. I zipped the gown down and headed for the bath. I had the first and second soap baths when the main entrance bell dings. That must be the courier. He chose the wrong time to ring. I rushed out of the bath with the towel wrapped around my body above my thigh. It's too short. I almost slipped on the tile as I flung my room door open. He was standing there with the package, opening it.

"I thought that's for me," I muttered.

He looked away from the package to face me. He let his face drop on the towel and my foam-soaked body, shivering.

"This is too cheap."

He held up the dress and flung it on the couch.

"You should get something better."

"Yeah, but we have less than thirty minutes left."

"You do. I'm out of here in ten minutes. Can you drive?"

What is he doing?

I nodded in the affirmative.

"Good. You'll drive yourself then."

He went to the marble-plastered counter in front of the cellar and dipped his hand in the small bowl. He tossed the car keys toward me and slammed his door shut. I looked on, angrily.