Valerie's Contractor ||Completed||

No calls?

The event of how his soft lips gently caressed mine, kept itself on replay in my mind's eye. All along I always thought Alan's good looks were trouble, but little did I know that his lips were lethal. It was like a weapon of mass destruction which had a paradoxical touch of tranquility iced on it. How could his lips feel so delicate, yet wreck such a catastrophic effect on my senses? I could barely think straight anymore. It felt as if my thoughts now entirely revolved around Alan. Right now I could still feel his lips on mine.

"Your steaming hot cup of coffee ma'am." The waiter's baritone voice interrupted my deep thoughts. When I looked up at him, for a few seconds there, my eyes visualized an image of Alan as the waiter. I had to blink twice and get my brains on track. Was I also day-dreaming now?

The rich aroma of the hot cup of coffee he placed in front of me, made me recognize the brand effortlessly. "Valhalla Java Ground Coffee?" I asked the waiter, just to confirm.

"The one and only." He said, with that touch of confidence waiters always had whenever they realized they had satisfied a customer with their services. I gave him a sweet half-smile, then said. "Thanks." The young waiter in his early twenties nodded and took his leave.

The hotel cafe was really nice. Actually, wherever they served good coffee was always pleasant to me. I can still remember how I enjoyed my coffee life in Italy, each morning of my vacation there, was blessed with a shot of espresso. Italians sure do know how to brew a perfect espresso shot. Valhalla Java Ground Coffee was another coffee brand that was rare to find, but definitely worth the search. It was ranked as the 3rd Best Coffee Brand In The World recently. I seized the cup and took a sip, and as usual, it met my appetite. But why was it that as satisfying as this cup of coffee was, it just couldn't quench this refurbished burning appetite I had for Alan?

I checked my phone almost every single minute to see if there was a message from him or maybe a missed call. This had suddenly become a habit for me these past three days after the reunion. A beep sound came from my phone and immediately I abandoned my beloved cup of coffee, with high hopes that this message was from him. But no, to my zenithal disappointment, it was an alert from my bank. I sighed a little and pushed my phone aside. Then resumed my coffee sipping session.

Above the rim of the red coffee cup, I could see a young couple playing love. The guy was tickling the lady playfully and at the same time whispering some things into her ear which made her giggle profusely. I peeped at them for some seconds. Then I wondered why it suddenly felt as if the whole world was filled with adorable love birds.

I looked at the coffee-brown color clock hanging on the light brown wall which made a tick-tock sound at intervals. The time was 7:50 AM. Why hadn't he called? Should I call him? No, no. It would seem as if I missed his presence. Or maybe I should just call and inquire about the stage my project had gotten to? That was a good excuse to reach out to him. I picked up my phone and dialed his number, before it could ring, I quickly cut the call and kept my phone on the table. The last time I saw him, our lips ended up in a flaming lip lock, that I consented to. Wouldn't talking to him feel all awkward now? I thought.

My phone beeped again. This time I reluctantly picked up the phone from the table. But when I saw it was a message from Alan. I sat up and hurriedly opened the message, which read:

Hi, Ms Okofu. I am done with restoring the roof of the mansion. We have completed one of the bedrooms, but the remaining 8 rooms and every other part of the house are yet to be completed. We are running out of materials, so I thought it would be wise to inform you about that. So, on that note, I would like you to meet up with me at the mansion by 10:00 AM, so that we can go get some materials in order for the project to progress.