This week I'm bringing you a teaser from a brand new manuscript. Those of you waiting for the conclusion to the Challenge series will be glad I started writing Worth A Challenge. This series follows the exploits of 3 best friends Michael, Paul and Peter. We've seen Michael and Paul find love. Well it's now Peter's turn. And his is going to be the most difficult journey. Unlike his friends, he had everything growing up--the love of both parents, a close family, and more wealth than he could spend in a lifetime.
And who do I match him with. Tess is the exact opposite. But don't let that fool you. She's not helpless or looking for a rich man to sweep her off her feet. In fact I'll let her introduce herself.
This is a very rough first draft written this morning. So forgive my errors.
Worth A Challenge by Kiru Taye
There's only one thing a man really wants from a woman.
It isn't the grey matter between the ears of a beautiful woman. Although the ability to engage in a conversation about the impact of Occupy Nigeria on the future of democracy or the war in Syria comes in handy as you're sitting with his mates and their girlfriends at the dinner table.
It isn't that you can exchange witty dialogue or take an interest in his favourite football team, cheering with him when they win or consoling him with a beer when they lose.
No. All this is just foreplay. A prelude to what he really wants.
So what is it a man really wants, you ask me.
All a man wants is that when he crawls between a woman's legs and sinks into her, she takes him to heaven and hell. Perhaps simultaneously. That's what he wants.
And he'll pay any price to have a woman who can give him what he wants. Well, almost.
So how do I know this?
Take for example the man sitting at the table adjacent to mine. He is tall dark and wealthy—the bespoke suit he's wearing costs a few thousand dollars from Noni House of Fashion. The skinny brunette hanging on his every word is pretty. Still his eyes have been glancing over to where I'm sitting since I walked into the bar. There are no doubts in my mind he wants to get into my panties. Shame, I'm not wearing any.
His girlfriend has been staring daggers at me, looking down her nose at me. Why is it that women feel the need to put down other women? I am tempted to teach her a lesson but I'm here on a mission. I have another mark. A much bigger fish to fry.
When she goes off to the ladies, Mr TDW leans across to me. "You are beautiful," he says in a put-on American accent and I have to force myself not to roll my eyes upwards.
Not another wannabe, I mutter beneath my breath. "Thank you." I flash him a smile and return my gaze to my glass of vodka and coke.
"Are you on your own tonight?" he asks.
"No, I'm waiting for my friend." I reply slightly amused.
"I'd like to take you out to dinner." His eyes are fixed greedily at my chest where my silk red dress flows over my generous breasts.
No. You'd like to have me for dinner. Why is it that men never say what they want directly?
"Dinner? What about your girlfriend?" I ask as annoyance sets my teeth on edge that he would dare to ask me out when he was out on a date with another woman. But that's Nigerian men for you. Bold as brass.
"Don't worry about her. If you agree to meet me, I'll dump her for you."
"You will?" I hide my shock, feigning interest and smiling coquettishly. "Give me your card and I'll call you."
He digs into his pocket and hands me a white embossed card with Emmanuel Egbo embossed on it. I run my manicured fingers over the raised lettering, the blood red of my nails stark and corrupting against the innocent white surface.
Except Mr Egbo isn't very innocent, is he?
He is very much in need of a lesson on how to treat women. And I would've loved to be the one to teach him. But a quick glance at my wrist watch says my mark will be here any moment and I could ruin weeks of preparation.
So I do the next best thing.
"Excuse me a moment," I slide off the stool and head to the ladies. The pretty skinny brunette is on her way back but I block her exit.
"I need to talk to you," I say.
She takes a step back. "What do you want?"
"Look. I know you think I'm interested in your man. Well, I'm not. He's not my type."
"And why are you telling me this?" She eyes me suspiciously.
"Because he just gave me his card and asked me to meet him." I flash the business card.
"He did?" She frowns. "Bastard." There's a catch in her voice and when I meet her gaze, her eyes are watery.
"I'm sorry." My voice softens. "Unfortunately, men are all like that. My advice to you is to make sure he uses a condom and see about getting tested."
"Tested?" Her eyes widened.
"Yes. You can never be sure of where he has been."
"Oh. My. God." She covers her mouth with her hands.
From her response I gather she might need the testing sooner rather than later.
I put my hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay?"
She looks up and nods. Then she straightens her shoulders. "I'm fine."
"Let me give you my number. If you need to talk about it just call me any time."
"Sure." She pulls her iPhone from her bag and we exchange phone details.
"Thank you," she says. "By the way, my name is Lydia."
"I'm Tess," I reply as she nods and heads for the door. "Take care."
She says goodbye before walking through the door.
I do a quick check of my image in the mirror before heading back out. Mr Egbo's suit has a sploggy dark patch on the shoulder and he dabs a white napkin on his shocked wet face. Lydia is nowhere in sight. A girl with backbone. I liked her already.
With a smile on my face, something catches my attention at the corner of the room. Breath stalled and heart thumping, I stare at the specimen of masculinity striding into the bar. He's here. My mark.
Taking a deep breath, I sashay across the room towards him, my high heels tapping on the hard floor like a ticking clock. The game is on.
Copyright © Kiru Taye
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