Chapter 32 AN UNEXPECTED GIFT

They say don't look a gift horse in the mouth, --- but I'll tell you right now that some gifts are too big and incriminating to accept.

EVE

"Wipe that smile off your face, mum."

My statement only makes her smiles wider, so much so that I think her cheeks might actually hurt.

"Look at my baby, all grown up." Tears glisten in her eyes as she stares at me, doe eyed. I feel like a toddler under the keen scrutiny of her mother.

Ever since I walked down the stairs dressed in a knee - length maroon form - fitting dress, mum has been oohing and aahing over me. I wonder if she's doing it for Mr. Faseun's benefit or if it's solely for her's. Either way, it is highly embarrassing.

"'Muuum! I'm a twenty five year old woman, in case you've forgotten. I haven't been your baby in a looong time. Please stop. You're embarrassing me."

Mr. Faseun stands to the side, beaming at the both of us, not saying anything, except to laugh at mum's not - so subtle hints at pairing us up in marriage.

"I'm only going on a date, not getting married, mum," I complain. "And even if I were, it'd be the right thing for me to leave, because a girl must eventually leave her h . . . " I cut myself off because I realise I'm speaking too much.

Shaking my head, I galvanise into action as I tug at Mr. Faseun's hands, indicating we get a move on. Luckily he takes the hint and follows me out the door.

Once we're outside, I search for his car but my eyes land on one I've never seen parked across the drive way, a driver at the helm.

Mr. Faseun strides determinedly towards it and I hang back, moping --- gaping more like. He turns round, noticing I'm not following him and I barely manage to snap my mouth closed, still, I'm sure he's already seen the look of incredulity on my face.

He owns a frigging Lamborghini?

How rich is this man?

Of course I don't ask.

Instead, I comport myself and force my feet to walk forward, however weak they may have suddenly gotten.

The driver jumps out from the car on sighting us and comes round, first to my side to open the door, and then turns round to do same with Mr. Faseun, but he waves him away.

When we're both ensconced inside, the stiff smell of burnished metal and plush dry leather immediately assails my nostrils. I'm still taking it all in, when soft jazz music filters out from surround speakers, lulling us into a sensational bubble of comfort and ease.

I close my eyes and settle down further into the soft comfortable seat.

Mr. Fash is clearly living the life.

Before I'm able to stop myself or chicken out, I turn to him. ''So... how many cars do you have, exactly?"

He chuckles and shrugs. "Not many," and turning away from me, he mumbles something that I don't quite catch.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I unknowingly lean close to him, hoping to capture his mumblings, but he swivels his head to look at me and his eyes soften when he takes in my curious expression.

"Well, just six." Looks like he's done talking, until he sighs and continues, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. "A Maserati, Ferrari testarossa, Mercedes Benz May back, BMW Zagatto coupe, this one we're in and a Bugatti."

By the time he's done mentioning them, a proud smirk takes over his lips, making my mouth hang open --- so open that I fear a fly might waltz in any moment. Although I very much doubt a fly would be allowed inside this car --- pun intended.

I snap them shut once again and widen my eyes in astonishment instead. They're practically bulging out of their sockets now.

The question reverberates in my head, once again. How rich, exactly, is he??

Once the car begins to move, he tries to make conversation, but seeing I keep replying him in monosyllables, he let's me be.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he's got six amazingly expensive cars.

I must mention here that I've got a serious love for expensive cars, especially Ferrari's, and so one day, I decided to do some research in the hopes that I could maybe, one day, get one. But when I found out how much one costs, my mouth had literally dropped open.

And now Mr. Faseun tells me he's got not just a Ferrari, but a range of other equally expensive choice cars, each costing above two hundred thousand . . .

Please note, not in naira --- dollars.

Seriously?!

How much is he freaking worth?

A Maserati, a Mercedes Maybach, a Bugatti . . .

"Eve?"

A Lamborghini, a . . .

"Eve?"

His voice pierces into my subconscious, drawing me back to the reality around me. I stare, dazed at him.

"Are you okay?" His expression is one of concern, huge furrows appear on his forehead as he looks at me.

I want to tell him he's got me spaced out, trying to ascertain how much he's worth, but that would come off as me being a gold digger, or something along those lines. Instead, I nod dumbly, deciding to act like a mute, as I lick my suddenly dry lips.

With a hand held out to me and a sweep of my face with his eyes, he smiles and announces our arrival at the venue.

What other option do I have but to take it?

I haven't even asked him where it is we've come to. He'd told me it was a surprise earlier on, so I'd decided to give it a rest.

Unfortunately, I don't do well with surprises.

Nonetheless, I take the hand extended to me as he gently leads me out of the spacious car.

The fresh smell of the sea is what hits me first. And then I hear it before I see it --- the crashing of the waves against the shores. Looks like we're at a beach, but taking a quick look around, I notice it's a beach resort.

There's no other life around. Its quiet as it's also beautiful.

Raising enquiring eyes to Mr. Faseun, I open my mouth to speak, but he intercepts me with a finger on my lips and a shake of his head, so I grudgingly suppress the question and smile tightly instead, as he leads me by the hand towards the dock.

Search lights from a nearby bungalow, see - saw about, momentarily blinding me. Stars blanket the sky, twinkling like diamonds against the inky darkness.

There's something beautiful about the quiet and solitude. Kind of makes me feel close to God, so I close my eyes and wish upon the stars, hoping they get carried on the wind and into the universe, ready to materialize.

Mr. Faseun remains quiet beside me, probably experiencing a moment, one that I don't want to break. I decide instead, to focus on the environs, wondering where it is we're headed.

Expecting to see a few tables and chairs scattered around, I become confused, worried even, when the only thing I notice is a large expanse of white sand spread as far as the eyes can see. Well, it is a beach after all, but Mr. Faseun could have at least told me we were coming to the sea side so I wouldn't have to wobble on heels.

The thought reverberates in my mind as I bend down to remove my heels, in the process freeing my fingers from his.

Once free of my heels, I dig my feet into the warm sand, relishing the feel of it as it slips through my feet.

Mr. Faseun's fingers finds mine once more and holds on firmly.

With a gentle tug, he continues leading me towards the dock and the edge of the sea.

Doubt creeps into my mind as we get closer.

Is he trying to kill me? Why isn't he saying anything? How come we're the only one's around?

I'm still thinking I shouldn't have followed him, when we stop right at the edge of the sea.

As if by magic, the hulk of a boat materialises ---- a yacht, on closer inspection.

Search lights twinkle all around it's body, lending a star - like quality to it. It stands white and regal against the dark, glinting with the myriad of lights surrounding it, lending it a picturesque look.

The lights reveal a name on the side of the yacht, etched in big gold lettering --- SEED.

I stand transfixed, stupefied with what I see.

Mr. Faseun smiles brightly, white teeth gleaming in the fast falling darkness.

With a tug on my hand, he jerks his head towards the yacht and graces me with a smile. "Let's go up."

Up? As in inside the yacht?

As we move forward, a man appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in white liveried uniform and a white cap on his head, completing his look with a shining smile.

With my hand still firmly ensconced in Mr. Faseun's one's, he leads me up the short flight of white shining stairs. I'm glad I made sure to remove my heels because the yacht keeps bobbing and moving, reminding me that I'm about to enter watery territory.

On the yacht, five people stand, all in the same uniform as the first man who welcomed us, sporting the same cap with an insignia on it.

And they're all smiling.

"Welcome sir, welcome madam." They chorus in one breath, like they had been practising it for some time.

I smile tightly and nod at them in response, but Mr. Faseun walks up to them with a hand shake, calling each of them by their names and asking how their individual families are doing.

There's an existing caramaderie flowing amongst them. This obviously stems from the ease with which their boss, who in this case, is Mr. Faseun relates with them. He beams as they crowd round him, telling him how they are faring. He in turn reassures them of some extra stipend, especially for those that complain of personal issues at home.

I stand patiently, waiting for him to finish. Soon enough, he comes to stand beside me, apologising for taking so long with them.

Threading our fingers together, he smiles as our eyes connect. "Come on, let me show you around." And he leads me deeper into the yacht.

Smack in the middle of the yacht is a big tub filled with water, and I watch, mesmerized as bubbles float around, gurgling away in the clear water.

As we keep moving around, I find myself praying I don't get whip lash from the way my head keeps swivelling around.

Everything feels surreal, yet so real.

When we make our way inside, I'm blown away with the things I see.

There's a state of the art spa, complete with a sauna, a jacuzzi, a tastefully furnished bedroom with Victorian furnishings, complete with a large queen - sized bed. Our last stop is a huge cinema room, which sports a large screen with a pop corn stand and drinks.

It's like a home away from home -- correction -- it's paradise on water.

By the time we come back up, a table has been set, right beside the big tub which is now letting out steam, but my attention is on the table. It's set for two with a single red rose in a vase in the middle of it. A bottle of champagne sits in a hold beside it.

Before I'm able to pull back my seat, Mr. Faseun holds it out for me and I thank him with a smile as he settles himself into the seat opposite mine.

"I hope everything is to your liking, Eve?" Seems he's waiting with bated breath for me to say something.

But what exactly can I say?

"It's beautiful?" But it comes out as a question instead. Words can't quantity what I've seen here tonight.

My reply seems to satisfy him, because he nods and bids me tuck into the one course meal of sea food set before us. Sadly, I don't eat food that's uncooked, neither am I able to eat food I clearly don't know the name of, so I just end up drinking a lot of champagne instead, and you know what alcohol does, right?

"So . . . " I start. "How much exactly are you worth, Mr. Faseun?" I absentmindedly tap my fingers on the table with my right hand, while my left one clutches on to the third - empty glass.

A bellow of laughter is his response to my question. He holds his stomach, trying to reign his laughter in, but the more he tries, the worse his laughter gets.

This is getting me angry, honestly. I might not have a filter on my mouth right now, but doesn't mean I've suddenly turned into a clown.

Just when I'm about to complain, his laughter peters off as he cleans the remnants of tears from the corners of his eyes. He regards me as he places the napkin back on the table, a smile still playing at the edges of his lips.

"I thought I told you to call me Femi? And in answer to your question, I'm not very sure you want to know how much I'm worth. But I do have a question of my own for you, one I hope when you do get around to answering, will be positive." Suddenly, he's sombre as he leans his hands on the table. "Please. . . Miss. Eve Olaitan, will you be my girlfriend? Come into my life -- allow me show you off to the world. You deserve it and so much more."

I'm taken aback at his blatant statement, wondering where the hell it came out from.

Something flickers in his eyes and I watch keenly, the change taking place. His irises have grown a smokey dark and his lips are parted, probably in anticipation of my response.

But all I'm able to do is stare in shock at him.

"You obviously don't have to respond right away. I'll give you some time to mull over it, no pressure whatsoever, but please know this -- I want you in my life. No no, that's not right. I NEED you in my life." And he looks so woe begotten, that I'm forced to say yes -- almost.

What spills out of my mouth next, I'm sure, will ruin my chances with him. "I know you're not aware, but I was your son's girlfriend for --- "

Without missing a beat, he replies. "I know! He told me, right before he stepped on to the plane, bound for the U.S." Sighing resignedly, he shakes his head and shrugs. "I don't care. It doesn't bother me in the slightest. I like you and I want to take care of you, but only if you'll let me. But as I said some seconds ago, no pressure. Take your time and think about it."

*

The drive back home is fraught with silence so profound, it seems Mr. Fas -- Femi, has fallen asleep. Yeah, I've decided to start calling him that upon his constant insistence, more like nagging.

The ride is smooth, as the car practically eats up the roads. I place my face against the cool pane of the window, trying in vain to stop the myriad of thoughts moving at a fast pace, through my mind.

Why me?

Why does he want me as his girlfriend?

There are definitely more mature, established women he can choose from. All he has to do is look their way, and they'd fall all over themselves for him.

The car slows to a stop and I recognise the small gate of the house. This time I don't wait for the driver to open the door as I immediately scoot out, trying to put as much distance between myself and Femi.

"Eve. . . Please wait!" But I'm already sliding in through the gate.

Cool hands stop me before I'm able to ring the door bell. "You forgot to take the box of pizza with you." I smile tightly at him as I collect it.

He insisted on buying it, seeing as I didn't touch the food proffered on the yacht.

Uncooked sea food has and will never appeal to me, thank you very much.

"I'm really sorry for the foiled dinner. Please make sure you eat some slices, at least, before you got to bed, okay?!"

I smile and nod. With one last lingering look, he goes out the gate and I hear the start of the car, indicating his leave.

As I'm about to ring the bell, I hear another car pull up the driveway and I wonder who it could be. Maybe Mr. Faseun forgot to tell me something, so instead of going back inside, I wander towards the gate, but a man meets me half way there.

It's pitch black and I can't even see his face clearly.

"Good evening madam. I've been told to deliver a package for a Miss. Eve."

"I'm Eve, what package is this you speak of?" I look enquiringly at his empty hands, but he just smiles. "Please follow me outside to receive it."

Fear grips me as I wonder if this is going to be another attack. He notices me stalling and his teeth shine white against the darkness of the night as he smiles. "Please relax madam, you're going to love this package."

So reluctantly, and against my better judgement, I follow him outside where I come to an abrupt halt in front of the gate.

If he's going to attempt anything, he'll have to drag me forcefully away, and even that would prove difficult for him, with the way I'm clinging tightly onto the gate.

He notices and chuckles. Walking to the car, he turns round to me, shakes his head and chuckles again.

Suddenly, head lights from the car, light up the driveway and I'm momentarily blinded. With a hand up to shade my eyes, I don't realise they're closed until the man taps me on the shoulder, making me yelp and recoil in shock.

"Here you go madam, look at your package."

I'm confused, because there's nothing in his hand, except a key. He nods and inclines his head to it. "It's your's, madam. The car is yours. It's a gift from ----"

His last words are lost to me as confusion clouds my mind.

I didn't buy a car. But then he mentioned the word, 'gift,' so who . . .

"There's a note for you. Please read it. It will clear all your confusion." He puts a note in my shaky hand and watches as I unfold it.

The handwriting is not familiar to me but I read it anyway, eager to know who it's from.

I figured I would get you a replacement for your damaged car. Please don't be under the illusion that this is a bait for you to say yes to my earlier question. On the contrary! Accept this gift from one friend to another, nothing more. But remember I'll be here, waiting to take care of you.

Enjoy your new car!

Femi.

Sometime between reading the note and my jaw becoming unhinged, the delivery man vanished, playing a willow - the - wisp act on me.

Now I'm left with the keys to a brand new Lexus Jeep idling in front of me and confusion the size of Mount Kilimanjaro.

The big question that's begun to creep into my head is --- should I accept this gift?