Kindled Hearts

4 //That's not my date

Nicole scanned herself at the mirror, crimping a few of her braids that had spilled out in place. She had roused way too rare for a Monday morning and the dark circles under her eyes were a clear sign. She cursed under her breath, resisting the urge to unsubtle her makeup and add more concealer, anything at all to blind the bags, but she was dangling on a borrowed time, the earlier she got out of the apartment, the easier it would be to cover a large area.

Her ears ached when a persistent squeak sound seeped through her musings. She turned about and glanced at a snugged Kiki, tucked up in her bed. She walked to Kiki's side and stooped, gently shaking her sleep hewn body.

"Kiki, get your laptop," she breathed.

Kiki stirred up in her sleep and squinted her eyes when she heard Nicole's voice. "Why? " she asked.

"Its blazing with notifications."

Kiki inched from her bed, her eyes gliding over Natalie, "Why are you dressed up?"

"I am going to look for a job,"Nicole answered, slipping into a pair of heels. She needed a distraction, something to cloud her mind. An idle day spent at the apartment would mean having to think about Wayne Bajuu and the horrible mess she left behind. She needed to unthaw her heart and break it free from the lingering obsolete possibilities that heaved within it.

"Where exactly?" Kiki edged the laptop from her disarrayed nightstand to her lap and eyed the red notification alert.

"I don't really know, but there are a few publishing firms that I'd love to stop over and issue my resume."

"Wishing you luck, just don't sell yourself short, you are one hell of an editor, and they need to see that," Kiki warned, knuckling sleep from her eyes.

"Thank you," Nicole smiled and grabbed her black coat from the coat hanger. The weather at prime in Nairobi had always been frigid and quite dreadful. Nicole knew better than to let herself walk out of the apartment draped in nothing but a sheer silk cloth.

Kiki glanced at her message board and felt a blush grow on her cheeks. "Looks like I have a date today," she beamed, clicking at the anonymous profile.

"Make sure to wear something nice, and don't stay out too late, am still not ready to be a godmother," Nicole crooked a grin and closed the door behind her, at a gobsmacked Kiki.

She stepped into the vapored air and breathed a chill. She instantly drowned her hands into the pockets of her coat and peered her way through the grainy mist to a bus station, located just a few minutes away.

"We will get back to you. Thank you for your time." Those blunt words gnawed upon Nicole and as she stared at the middle aged man sitting right across from her, she fought a grimace. She had been ambling in and out of every publishing firms within the CBD, yet each time, those same words would be slapped onto her face and the after taste of it all would clamp at the back of her throat.

"Thank you," she controlled the seething in her voice and pulled her face into a veneer.

Stooring from her seat, she held her head high and waltzed out of the office. It wasn't until the afternoon sun singed her skin that she felt her eyes begin to tear. She immediately ran her hand to her face and wiped at the tears.

Her body was drained and the hot shimmering weather did little to soothe her spirit. She craved to be at home, doused in a bottle of gin. The thought of it played well in her mind, she could only take so much disappointment for a day, she was human after all and anymore "Noes" would crumble further, the little hope she still held onto.

With a sigh of defeat, she took a turn to the nearest station, but something caught her eye. She edged closer, her gaze set at a placard mounted on a double glass door. 'We are hiring now! ' Them words stared right back at her as she blew a puff of relief. She anxiously took a few steps back, raised her eyes and glanced at the tall building. It was exceptional, an intricate architectural design, one that gave off a sense familiarity. She must have seen it on a billboard or on the cover of a magazine. Either way, it was worthy of the commercial solicitation.

"Nairobi Fashion House," her lips softly moved when she peered at the name illuminated in shimmering light.

Her muscles twitched as she approached the reception desk. Behind the desk, sat two young women engaged in a mirthy conversation.

"Excuse me," she cut into their conservation.

They instantly turned to her, their expression half amused, half scornful, and Nicole couldn't tell which of the two was worse.

"Are you here concerning a job opportunity?" one of them chirped and Nicole almost cringed at her voice.

"Yes, I have my documents_"

"No need for your documents," the same woman interjected and glazed at Nicole's frame. "You are already hired," she added.

Nicole's brow rumpled in confusion, "But I didn't_"

"Do you want the job or not?"

Nicole chewed her bottom lip, her mind in a mental chaos. She needed to keep her finances aloft and if it meant having to trifle her editorial prospect, so be it. "Well okay, I'll take it," she responded, a smile playing on her lips.

The woman turned to the other one, "Carol, bring her the work tools."

Nicole paused and stared at the woman. "Work tools?" she asked.

The woman threw her head back, cracking into a boisterous laugh. "Well of course, you can't work as a janitress without your work tools."

"A what?"

**********

Kiki felt her lungs cloy and she managed a nervous cough. She had been to several dates right after college, this should've been pedestrian by now, but as she looked onto the porter's face, she instantly became aware of her failing nerves.

"Am here to see Mr. James Hiwa, could you please direct me to his table," her brain caught to her dry mouth.

The porter shifted his stance and pointed at a table posited at a corner. "There he is, just arrived a couple of minutes ago," he responded.

Kiki's gaze roamed to where the porter pointed and she heard her jaw drop. "That can't be Mr. Hiwa," she said, turning back to the porter.

She saw the crinkle on the porter's forehead as he scoped the tab on his hands. "It is Mr. James Hiwa," he firmly stated.

Kiki looked back at the said 'Mr. Hiwa' and almost chuckled as she saw a virtual toothless grin flashed her way. Her legs bore life and she weaved to him, settling onto a seat next to his.

"There is amusement in your eyes," Mr. Hiwa acknowledged.

"You remind me of my guka," Kiki answered, stealing a glance at his wizen and wrinkled face. His brown eyes, dim and faded, crumpled at it's wick with delight.

"He must have been a great man to be of my calibre."

"He was the best I could ever ask for as a grandfather, there was never a dull moment with him even when dementia clawed at him," Kiki choked with nostalgia, it was already five years since his death, yet somehow she still felt a little trapped in his memories. She rared back on her seat, watching the man before her and finally asked, " How old are you?"

"I am very old but you must have figured that already. Your relaxed composure amazes me," he dragged onto his raspy voice.

"I have no reason to judge," she failed to mention how peaceful his presence reflected on her. "After all , who wouldn't miss an opportunity to dine at such a grand hotel," she added, a smile tugged on her lips.

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Mr. Hiwa is a vital character in this story. There will be more of him to come.
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