Back to Basics

Our lunch date continues without further drama. The food is splendid, and our conversations are flowing easily.

By unspoken agreement, Sam and I do not talk about any more personal topics. He tells me about his businesses and some of the wildest trips he’s had across the world.

When it’s time for dessert, he whips out his mobile phone from his pocket and comments on having over 20 missed calls as soon as he looks at the screen. I take that as my cue to leave.

“This has been fun,” I say sincerely. “Thank you for inviting me to your home.”

“Why do you suddenly sound like a TV presenter who just concluded an interview with me?”

I laugh. “I didn’t mean to sound like a TV presenter.”

“We should do this again soon,” he says smoothly.

“Uh, ok,” I reply uncertainly.

“What?”

“Well, I was so sure that after that… snag upstairs, you wouldn’t want us to hang out anymore.”

Sam chuckles. “That’s forgotten already. Besides, I’m on the lookout for good friends, and you seem to fit that role perfectly.”

Oh, my. I’ve been friend-zoned.

Great!

“Sounds good,” I say with too much enthusiasm. “I'd better be on my way now. It’s getting late.”

“Late? It’s barely 5 p.m.”

“I think you and I understand time differently.”

I get on my feet, and he does the same. I must have eaten more than I should because now I’m walking with a little waddle. I feel stuffed.

“Marcus will drive you home,” Sam says as he walks me to the front door.

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” I say quickly. “I’ll just call an Uber.”

“Why? Didn’t you like the way he drove earlier? I could get you another driver.”

“No, no. Marcus is an excellent driver. I just don’t want to be a bother. I can find my way home.”

“I’m sure you can, but I insist on having you driven home. I always look after my guests.”

I smile gratefully. Sam just keeps showing me how much of a caring guy he is. It would be so easy to fall in love with a man like him…

“Thank you for being such a great guest,” he says politely. “Let’s keep in touch.”

I nod my head and wait hopefully. We’re standing just outside the front door. The only sounds I hear are the birds chirping in the nearby trees and the water fountain flowing endlessly.

By all accounts, we are alone, and I’m staring up at Sam expectantly. The sound of a car driving up the driveway shatters the mood.

We both look in the direction of the sound to see Marcus approaching in the white Bentley. Bollocks!

“Alright, Eunice. Say hi to your daughters for me,” Sam says courteously.

I smile in response. I had been hoping for a goodbye kiss but… oh well.

Marcus opens the door for me as usual,l and I slip into the car quickly. Once seated, I look up to see if Sam is waiting to wave me farewell, but he’s already gone.

I guess that’s that about that then. As the car backs out of the driveway, I’m sure this will be my last time here.

***************

Once Marcus drops me at the store and drives off, I’m welcomed by my eager staff who are hoping for some juicy tales about my date. I ignore them and head straight to my office.

I haven’t looked at my phone since I got to Sam’s house. I check it now, and there are some missed calls from Jessica and Nina.

There are also lots of texts that I’m not ready to read or respond to just yet. I’m still confused about my feelings for Sam and how our date played out.

Jamie shows up in my office a few minutes later. “Are you alright?” He asks worriedly.

“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” I reply bitingly.

My tone makes him flinch,h and I’m immediately sorry.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” I apologize. “I’m just tired.”

“It’s ok,” he says with a small smile.

“Did anything exciting happen while I was away?”

“In the store, no. But on Snapchat, yass!”

I raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “Jamie, what have you been up to?”

“I posted a picture of you in your dress on my Snap story,ry and everyone is eating it up! They can’t believe it’s you!”

“Is that a good thing or not?”

“Oh, it’s a good thing for sure. Trust me. They all wanted to know where you were slaying to.”

“Please, tell me you didn’t tell them!”

“I didn’t,” he says with a hand to his chest. “I promise, I didn’t. That’s not my tea to spill.”

I sigh. I’m not in the mood for Jamie and his unending drama.

“I’m going home,” I announce. “I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

“Sure thing,” Jamie says as he follows me out of my office.

***************

The girls are just waking up from their nap when I get home around 4 p.m. Mrs. B can’t hide her surprise at seeing me back home “so early,” as she put it.

After that awkward moment with Sam, we returned to the dining room to eat and make small talk that was painfully uncomfortable. I was glad to have the food in front of me because it gave me something to do when we both ran out of things to say to each other.

By unspoken agreement, we had refrained from bringing up personal topics like family and anything else that could make the situation even weirder. Remembering the date makes me cringe with embarrassment.

I blame myself for how the lunch date deteriorated like that, but hey, what’s done is done. Sam hadn’t even said anything about a second date or stopping by at my store again.

I guess that basically means we are done,e and that’s that. I hate to admit it, but I am sad that my moment with him was so…abrupt.

“Doesn’t look like you had fun at your lunch party,” Zeena remarks, noting my low mood. “Wasn’t there enough food?”

I smile at her. We are in my bedroom, and I am sitting in front of my dressing table, taking off my wig.

“It wasn’t a party,” I tell her patiently, “just lunch. And there was so much food, I couldn’t eat it all.”

“So why didn’t you bring some home? You know, like Aunty Olivia used to do when she goes to parties and there’s lots of food there,” Zeena says petulantly.

My younger sister, Olivia, had a habit of bringing food home from parties. According to her, parties are for drinking and dancing, not eating. So she would nibble whatever food she was given at a party and take the rest of it home to eat it “properly”.

Ugh! Tacky much.

“Well, I am not Aunty Olivia, and we have enough food here already,” I tell Zeena defensively, “There’s no need to bring more. Please, help me unzip my dress.”

As my daughter unzips my dress, I glance at my phone. I can see that my friends have been sending multiple texts on our W******p group chat.

I push the phone away with a sigh. I am not in the mood to rehash my failed lunch date with the juiciest billionaire in the city.

I’ll have to respond to them tomorrow, but for today, I just want to lick my wounds and relax with my daughters.

Exit Eunice the vixen. Enter Eunice the mom.