Luta got to his room, aired with less anxiety. Yes, he's doing this well. Wao! He had a flash back and he saw how the swam of information about the fat man had flooded his brain, and how he was quick to know what and what he wanted to know about the man. He just had to stare.
He reached his bed and grabbed the box. He turned off his lock and checked all that was hidden in it. Quite untouched. He could have just made it empty before going for the bed. But it was over already and he was left with less idea about the functionality of the box.
He brought out a small phone and he got the message:
‘Debit card successfully loaded.’
He smiled, turned the phone off, took it to the toilet and flushed it.
All night, he was at the window blind checking every move and inspecting every sound. His head would burst with the way it kept on bumping with images. It was like he was opposite a projector and images kept spinning.
He was scared, having paid the room service guy that sum of money to write all those junks. And to be honest, he felt everything to be wrong about the guy. His major goal was to lead faces off him so he could achieve his goal.
That night, he picked his receiver and had a room service in. It was a pretty lady ready to attend to his needs. His cuteness seduced her before his soft words and his innocent brown eyes laid hold of her. She was shaking already, having his gaze pounce on her.
He just liked her and he was ready to pay her a fortune for this very help.
“I was just thinking a glass of water would do. But, I am just very thirsty. You know what I mean?”
She looked at him. His eyes were taking her clothes off but she was keen to be strong, although she was falling. He looked rich and she knew she wasn’t his type. The worst was going be she having to sleep with him for money.
“Water will be just fine”, Luta said. He looked at her, “Ease off!” He added.
He thought about how he was going to present what he wanted done.
That was the usual thing around here. Rich men passing the night with the girls posed as room service. It was the deal. It kept customers and it was one thing the hotel management would not frown at. It was going to be great trouble if a room service girl rejects a client offer.
“I am new in this city. I might need little help.”
Luta pulled against the blind again. He checked the car moving away from the lot far off.
“Where do you stay?”
“In the Mainland.” She said politely.
He consulted his wrist watch.
“Can you do me a favour?”
She looked at him, still standing.
“I have few job for you. How much are you paid here monthly?”
She revealed with a smile.
He looked at her.
“I will make it 50,000. You just have to do all I tell you.”
“But I…” She tried protesting.
He was quick to notice and he made her run for the money.
“I will make it 100,000 Naira then.”
She whisked, locking her fingers into each other. That money is what she would not be able to save in a year.
“I assume you have agreed. Do you have a name?” He asked.
She looked younger than he had presumed when she first walked in. Very skinny and slightly fair.
“Not now.” She muttered with an ounce of boldness.
“Get me two notebooks.” Luta said.
She moved for the door and she turned to face him again.
“Is that all you need?”
She nodded and she was off.
Luta reached for his briefcase. He checked his box and emptied it on the bed. He selected a pair of shirt and laid it out.
No one knew him in here except the trouble he had stared up in the game house.
She was back and he asked her to tear out a sheet and begin to write.
“Let it be a report note. Complain about how quick renovation need to be done. Some thing short.”
She looked at him, not getting what it all was about.
But she started.
“Write like twenty different notes. Let it be like it was written by 20 different people; the writing manipulation. You get?"
He looked over her hands.
"It’s a company project and I would be making complaints tomorrow. I have to make complaints for people under me too. I don’t want them stressed out.”
He smiled and she proceeded.
"The company’s locker is bad and nothing's been done about it.”
He checked his wristwatch for time- 4:12
“Why not take off that uniform so you would know you are off with the job?”
She looked at him, dumb. Her expression was louder than words.
“Oh! Nothing to wear.”
He moved over to the telephone and he order for cloths to be brought in by dawn. Then, he allowed her be. He climbed over to his bed, stretched out and pointed at the shirt he had stopped himself from sleeping on.
“Can you help press them too?” He said, pointing with his head.
She nodded and before she could turn around again, his eyes were closed. She stared at his box, brief case and clothes, and the world spun around her. Making it away with his properties, was what came to her head next.