Love At Last

CAYDEN’S NEW PARTNER

Three days after the kiss scene and two days after the ‘Jarod’ fiasco, I got a call from my work place that my supposed would-be partner was already in town and I had to go pick whoever it was from the airport. I was curious to see who I was going to be working it on the said project as I prepared myself to go pick the person from the airport. I was given the person’s flight details to aid my search when I got there.

On getting there, I was stunned to find out that my partner was actually a woman – a beautiful one at that. She was light-skinned and had very well defined curves, tall – not taller than I was though – and looked slender. Her very dark and long hair matched her all-black attire – black dress, black pair of heels, black purse, smokey make-up and even a black nail polish to add to it all. She gave off a very sassy vibe to me. She’d tied her hair up in a ponytail and looked through fashion magazines while she waited for me.

The only personal information I got on the fellow was the last name, the fact that she’d have our company logo on her box and that she wore an ‘all-black’ attire; nothing about her gender was said, I just assumed it would be a guy and never bothered asking. I kept in touch to know when she’d land and got there right in time to pick her up.

“Miss Elsher?” I called out to the fellow who had her head buried in the magazine. “Miss Elsher?” I called out again as she didn’t even raise her head the first time. A feisty one indeed. “Miss Elsh…,”

“If you see…,” she’d cut me off abruptly but paused on her own when she had a proper look at my face. She was completely smitten, I could tell.

“Miss Elsher?” I stretched forth my hand beckoning for a handshake.

“Miss Brielle Elsher. Nice to meet you,” she introduced formally and shook my hand as she smiled briefly.

“I’m McLou…,”Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“Cayden McLou?” She knew my full name, when I didn’t even know hers. “Woah, I’m hurt, you know? I wasn’t told anything reasonable about you.”

“I pleaded with them not to spill, especially my gender.”

“That was on purpose?”

“Of course! My favorite genre is suspense.”

“You must be weary. Let’s get going.”

We left the airport together in my car. I asked her what kind of hotel she’d love to spend the night and to my awe, she said she didn’t want to check-in to a hotel.

“Why?” I asked.

“I’m too jet-lagged for that. Don’t you know how to treat a guest?” she retorted.

“Where do you intend to spend the night then?”

“Do you sleep under a bridge?” she tilted her neck to ask, with sarcasm written all over her tone.

“My house?!” I exclaimed.

“Got a problem with that?” This lady was proving to be a handful. How could she be so brazen to want to spend the night with someone she just met.

“You don’t feel awkward making that request?”

“Not at all, honey.” I scoffed real hard.

“How can you possibly be comfortable going home with someone you’ve never met to spend the night. What if I’m a…,”

“A serial killer?” she cut in and completed my statement. How did she know what I wanted to say?! “Cut it out already with the ‘serial killer’ talk or are you one?” she asked looking all smug. “Besides, as partners, we need to learn to work together. Don’t you agree?” she added.

I had no choice but to give in to the strange woman who journeyed with me. I drove straight home.

“Here’s my humble abode,” I announced on getting into my apartment with my arms spread out.

“This is far from ‘humble’.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“That’s exactly what it was,” she blurted hysterically and had us both giggling.

“Let me set your room up for you.”

I took her box inside and arranged a guest room for her to spend the night in. I then showed her the room and we both retired to freshen up to prepare for dinner which I of course would be the one to make ready.

Minutes later after taking my bath, I came out to fix something that wouldn’t take so much time to prepare. I had a few ingredients in my fridge so I just threw whatever I could into the pot and made a palatable dish.

Miss Brielle came out while I was setting the table.

“You cook?” she asked me.

“I live alone missy. If I don’t know how to, who would do it for me? Or would you rather I starve to death?” I asked with a hint of sarcasm.

She chuckled and replied: “you’re rich; you could choose to always eat out.” She wanted to have the upper hand in our argument.

“I have money to spend, none to throw away,” I retorted.

“Okay sir, whatever you say,” she finally yielded. “What do we have here?” she asked as she tried to inhale the aroma from the food. “Mmhhh,” she inhaled, “smells nice,” she complimented.

“Thank you very much for the compliment,” I smiled. In no time, we dug in.

“You know…there’s this one time I had a boyfriend.” It seemed she wanted to start a conversation with me while we ate.

“Okay?”

“We dated for about…,”she paused and thought for a while before saying, “six months, I think?” she concluded her statement.

“So…”

“After we dated for six months, I decided to meet his family. He had three ugly looking sisters…,”she blurted, causing me to burst into a hysteric laughter.

“What? Ugly?” I said between giggles. I was surprised she could voice something like that out rightly.

“Yes , ugly. Why?”

“That was a bit… you know…,”

“Blunt?”

“Yes that’s the word!” I affirmed.

“Not necessarily though. I’m sure you noticed from the airport how outspoken I am.”

“I sure did. So what happened next?” I was curious.

“Well, his old lady was a bit on the over domineering side and looking at the kind of person I am, I just couldn’t fit,” she narrated.

“By ‘his old lady’, you mean his grandma?”

“Nah, his mom,” she blurted hysterically and had me laughing again.

“Why do you keep laughing?” she asked smiling.

“Why would you call her that?”

“What do you mean? She’s his old lady. I mean, she’s old right?”

“Yeah but still, could’ve just said his mom or sum’n.”

“Calling her his ‘old lady’ feels so much better.”

“Okay miss. Please continue,” I urged her to continue with her story; I was enjoying it

“That very day, the wild glare his mom and sisters greeted me with is still engraved in my head,” she said making hysteric expressions which made me laugh so hard. “I had dinner with them and his old lady was all over me like ‘why do you have nail polish on?’ ‘why do you wear all-black attire like the grin reaper?'” she mimicked hysterically. “Why do you keep laughing?” she asked me – who couldn’t hold myself back. “Don’t you want to hear the rest of the story?”

“I sure do,” I said amidst the laughter and all.

She cleared her throat and continued, “the old lady asked me to take off my nail polish, you know?”

“She did?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed dramatically. “Take a good look at me…,” she gestured, “do I look like someone who’s ready to bend over for some man?”

“Of course not!” She sure didn’t look like one who’s bend to a man’s will.

“After that day, I vowed not to take second looks at blonde guys anymore,” she concluded excitedly.