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Chapter thirty-one
Like a teenager.
Yes, that was how he looked like. She loved the way his eyes glistened and every smile which graced his lips after she approved of both of them. It was an experience she wouldn't trade for anything in the world.
It was barely eleven in the morning. Elijah drove her home. Even though she was completely swallowed up in her own thoughts, the bits of looks which Elijah stole of her from the rearview mirror didn't go unnoticed as it wasn't new to her in the first place; Earlier that day, her fellow comrades threw similar hefty looks at her- Anna, most especially.
The petite's mouth wouldn't stop parting and shutting in an attempt to shoot endless bullets of questions.
Was the emotional change so obvious?
It'd been a while since she hadn't felt that way. Her lips broke into an oblivious smile.
Her ride came to a stop with the chivalrous Elijah waving her goodbye. On stepping into the house, she was quickly welcom
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Zaphrina straightened on her seat, tried as much as possible to not erupt her discomfort before him. So far, the night had rolled bump-free. But, Zaphrina knew too well that, just like the pros, the cons existed too. She had foreseen, thought, acquired, rehearsed yet, she felt as blank as a sheet of paper. As scared as a man in a lion's den and perplexed as a History student in further maths lectures. Truth is like a wound, it hurts but cures. Little Thomas Greene's words reflected before her, just like her image would do before a mirror. "I put them on, yes, strictly on special occasions," She didn't lie, so she thought. She returned to the glass of water she had almost choked on earlier, taking huge, throat breaking gulps this time, praying for it to choke her to the point of hospitalization, for she knew, she was drastically going to fall off cloud nine if the conversation wasn't diverted as soon as possible. Yes, cloud nine; She felt something special with Marley interiorly
Married to a stripper (BlackBook 1) Chapter thirty-three
Inspired by Calum Scott--You are the reason. The day had risen with Zaphrina's head throbbing like it was incessantly being hit with a sledgehammer. She reached the maid's quarters, where she heard faint giggles originating from the kitchen. She went over to the moderately sophisticated kitchen to see Leila and Neville already present; discussing on the tiny marbled kitchen counter over a cup of coffee and toasts—evidence of being late. Elijah picked her up forty-five minutes after she was all prepared for work which wasn't a habit she would've nurtured even with her car in the sickbed. "The young master instructed I pick you up at seven o'clock prompt." he had said. Seven o'clock on daily basis, was the time she was already seated at the granite kitchen island, staring at the coffee cup beneath the coffee machine as she impatiently waited for Neville to give her the green light whilst tapping her fingers on the island out of i
Married to a stripper (BlackBook 1) Chapter thirty-four
"Babe, we need to talk. Like right now," the lady, whose arms were crossed above her chest ordered. Zaphrina's gaze twitched to her minted green ones. The girl in person looked quite familiar to her. Yes, she could remember her, like it was just yesterday. Her ponytail glossy auburn barnet freely cascaded down her mid-back. The lass was dressed in a simple, fitting brown lacy dress above a pair of shiny black pumps. She was no doubt the lady who got lipstick and foundation smudges all over Marley's shirt that one and faithful day. Zaphrina's stare fluctuated from hers to Marley's who was already looking at her with a chain of justifications reflecting back at her. She gently shook her head in dismay as her weight vacated the bed. "Zaphrina, I want you to-" he began, rising from the bed too. "I'll be in my work unit, young master," She bowed. "I'll leave you two right away. Now, if you would excuse me." She rushed to the door, whe
Married to a stripper (BlackBook 1) Chapter thirty-five
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Mason. Mason! Mason? Did that name have to jingle the 'Mason' bell she knew of? No. It couldn't be. There were many other Masons out there--dark skinned Masons to be specific. "God!" Zaphrina whispered in mental exhaustion. Louisa had left a couple of minutes ago in such a rush, if not, she would've done it. She would've gone ahead to question her about the origin of the Mason she was talking about. "Gracious Lord!" again, she whispered. Seems all her mouth could do was exclaim what her mind processed. "...be there in a bit," Marley's voice jiggled her back to reality like Christmas bells. "...sure," At the sight of her he smiled and stretched out his arm until he reached her and engulfed her waist. "...tell him I said not to do anything stupid when he sees her," his hairy hand began parading up her tummy but she was fast enough to ease off of him pretending to wipe off a stain on the counter. "See you
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"I wanted to tell you..." she trailed, flicking her light brown orbs from one end to another. "...that I can't wait to meet your friends," she grinned. Marley scoffed, "Is that it? I mean, you sounded really baffled back there." "Nervous. I usually feel that way when I'm about meeting new people," she faintly smiled. "My friends are cool, you won't even feel like they're 'new people'." And so it was, Zaphrina met Kennedy Carter--who preferred she called him Ken-- and Joshua Fritz, the guy with the sexy smile who was hitting on the receptionist--who preferred she address him Josh. Josh introduced to her his girlfriend who wasn't the Audrey he was hitting on that day. She liked them; they were jovial. They made her feel like she'd known them for ages. Before the game begun, everyone was settled, fans had begun cheering even before the player's grand entry. "So...Zaphrina, the name, right?" Joshua addressed to her, despite the eardrum perforating screams, she managed to hear him.
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His expression turned flaccid at her question, a little like the way she had felt when he indirectly admitted he had overheard her conversation with Mira. Honestly, she had never known her talent until she was questioned. Hand tremor. How did she even get to know about the medical term? For one thing she knew was, she was neither family or friend related to a physician. Newspapers, TV or any form of information derived commodity were no doubt not her piece of cake so how did... 'It's nothing serious,' the doctor had said to them. 'The hand tremor is as a result of alcohol escape, with time it'll get better. Your dad is ok baby girl.' He reassured Zaphrina's seven-years-old sobbing frame most especially. There. That was its origin. Some parts of her past just wouldn't die down. They kept popping up at odd times-though not all-reminding her of their existence, of their imprints carved somewhere deep within the abyss of her heart and mind.
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Monday finally arrived and for the first time in months had she been eager to go to work; lately, her eyes had been craving to see the man she had surprisingly come to like more than any other thing. 'An idle man is the devil's workshop.' So it's said and so was her Sunday after church service. If her head hadn't gone haywire then it never would; it had been from one thought to the other which all boiled down to a single verdict, one which she really had to deal with once and for all. The honking she was almost getting used to tapped her on the verge of her last sip. Anticipation getting the best of her, Zaphrina dashed her mug into the kitchen counter as she scurried outside with her purse in hand. Elijah portrayed his ever so warm and welcoming to her as he greeted her with a salute. They had both engaged themselves in little talks as they rode past the noisy neighborhood. It was one and the same sight almost every morning; a
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