Rebellion

3. The Meet

“For me, true luxury can be caviar or a day with no meetings,  no schedule and no appointments.” – Michael Kors.

•••

Tiolu, calm down. Deep breaths. You can do this.

She wrestled for control with her subconscious, as it struggled to get the better of her. It couldn’t be, the man who sat in her consulting office – gently drumming his fingers over his lap and waiting patiently for her arrival was – Dayo Tijani.

Get a hold on yourself.

A fresh wave of frosty ice chills raced down her spine once more, and her heart-rate picked up at an exponential rate resulting in her heart pounding so profusely hard, that she could have sworn Dayo jerked his head up in astonishment and query. She had frozen by her desk now, placing an arm on the table to brace herself for support while her other fist was clenched.

She was completely suspended in the animation of fright and shock.

“Is there any problem, ma’am?”

He spoke!

Dayo Tijani spoke! To me!

Oh MY God!!!

“Ma’am, are you okay?” His brows furrowed in incongruity, and his shoulders rose in a manner which connoted that he was going to spring up to his feet, but he didn’t nonetheless. “Are you the one I’m supposed to be meeting?”

He looked dazzling, damn! She couldn’t help her gaze from straying from his dreamy face down to his feet. He donned a Black-washed Borg lined denim Jacket on a pair of black faded jean trousers and brown suede boots. The style was very simple yet – endearing; and because he was light-skinned in complexion albeit not like she was, but to a very great extent also, the dark colors only shone through and made him more – dreamy.

His face however seemed more surreal than ever. She had spent hours in the past gazing frantically and intensely at numerous of his photos in the past, so his face was nothing new. But now that it was right in front of her, live in fact – she couldn’t inhibit her resulting internal squeal of delight. His eye-balls were azure-colored, dabbled with a shade of dark green. His bushy brows and well trimmed hair shone and glistened, as a result of the light – illuminating pattern in the room.

He looked – perfect.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” His low-pitched voice reverberated in her head once more. “Perhaps, I’m in the wrong room–”

“No, no, no. You’re here to see me.” The protest tumbled out of her mouth in a haphazard manner, and she swiftly adjusted her walking stance before proceeding to sink on her seat. Her initial shock had vanished already, but she couldn’t seem to stop her heart from pounding so hard, as their gazes interlocked and they peered into each other’s face.

Damn, I wonder how I look now.

“I–uhm, how can I help you?” She cleared her throat, attempting to keep the anxiety and shock out of her voice and also clasped her hands in a bid to look professional.

He reclined backwards  in his seat, and let out the huge puff of air that had formed in his chest. It would seem that her absurd demeanor had caused him discomfort and unease. He must have been worried something was wrong.

He was worried about me!

Get a handle on yourself, Tiolu.

“Yeah, uhm I came to pick up medications for insomnia.” He began, his gaze not straying away from hers even for a brief moment. “I recently returned to Nigeria and, I kind-off forgot my medications back in New York. I’ve actually forgotten their names because they’re so long and weird. They were prescribed by my doctor about a year ago. Normally I’d have just come in to pick up regular sleeping pills but I was warned not to take the ones not for my particular ailment by the counter, a few moments ago. So I was directed here.”