RICH GUYS

The day is bright. The sunlight flooded the football field, boosting the beauty and glow of the stadium. I have to accept, coming to this football match is considerably better than hanging at home. I’m glad David beat me in the scrabble game and I have to do everything he suggests for today. Even though he cheated.

How else would I experience the thrill that comes with sweaty, ripped guys chasing a ball into a net? And the loud and crazy part of David and humans entirely.

I have no idea what I’m watching except that David is on the black jersey side and the two teenagers sitting in my front are on the green and black jersey side.

“What do you call them again?” I asked David. He sat at the tip of his seat, eyes darting wherever the ball darted to.

I waited a little for him to reply and pinched him when I’m sure he isn’t going to.

He jerked and rubbed his thigh. “Home versus away.”

When he arced his right eyebrow up like that, I know he is seconds away from losing it, but he hasn’t answered my question. I’m asking for the name of the teams, not the status.

“I meant the name of the team.”

“Oh, the black and gold versus the LA galaxy,” he said, and focused on the field.

“Okay, what—”

“Adenike Ademoroti. Please, let me have these last thirty minutes alone. After these, I’m all yours.” His eyes wide, he clasped his hands together and hold it high up, a Yoruba way of mock-pleading before returning his attention to the game.

“Whatever. You brought me here yourself.”

I sit back and relax, watching people stand up one minute in anticipation of a goal and then slump down the next, disappointed. It seems everyone around me is supporters of black and gold except the two teenagers in my front. The one time black and gold scores. Everyone was cheering and singing, except for the two. They were booing.

And the man next to the two boys. He isn’t interacting with the ball or anyone except his phone. He has been engrossed in his phone far more than he has on the match. His eyes would stay glued to his phone, glance up when there is a crowd cheering, then refocused on his phone. I haven’t been studying him. I’m just being… observant. Though I had controlled myself not to let my eyes wander past the boys. His attractive aura is too strong. It is a will breaker. Now, it forces my eyes to assess him again. With his straight back, and hard prominent cheekbones from his side profile, he’s surely an attractive species. And I’ve always love guys with low cut hairstyles.

David stood up at once beside me, yelling and clapping. His black and gold team are at the home of the other team, about to win. I dragged him down. I’m enjoying this game and all, but it’s not all fun without annoying David.

He was going to say something, but a blonde guy wearing a black vest and shorts called his name. The blond guy takes three steps up and walked to us.

“Bro,” he said to David. They shook each other’s hands and pat their selves on the shoulder.

“Guy, What’s up.”

“I’m fine. This must be Adenike?” He knows who I am. This handsome guy knows who I am. I have David to praise for that.

“Hi,” I said and shook his hands.

“So, are you enjoying the game?”

“Yes. I very much am. I’m a fan of football,” I said and immediately stepped on David’s sneaker to make him swallow the comment that just wanted to fly out of his mouth.

“I don’t understand how David never brought you to any of the games?” He stands upright as if offended and cross his arms on his chest.

“Maybe because she knows nothing—”

I stepped on him again. This time I didn’t release the pressure I had on his foot.

“I got to Los Angeles this month and I’ve been busy between adjusting and work, right David?” I nudged him with my elbow.

“Yeah, right.”

The blonde guy laughed in a way that says he doesn’t believe me.

“Famous players you can list?” he asked.

“Of course. Neymar, Ronaldo, Messi, Muhammed Salah, Balorz, David’s favorite player and so on. Are you doubting my love for football?”

“No, I’m not. It’s just… one more question. You recognize these players you just mentioned? Including Balorz?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

Why doesn’t he believe me? I have good lying skills.

“Of course. David, tell him how much I love football and my obsession with its players.”

The blonde guy burst out laughing, including David and the red-hair girl beside me. The two teenagers also joined. The attractive man, though he didn’t laugh out loud like the others, there’s no doubt he is trying to suppress it as he bent his head, his shoulders shaking with ripples of laughter. The girl and the two fellows glanced at me while laughing so I know it’s not a coincidence. They heard everything. Not with us yelling so our voice could cover the insane crowd noise.

With a quick scan at the guy, black jersey like the black and gold player’s jersey, ripped-muscled legs and arms, I realized he is the footballer I claimed I recognized. He is Balorz, David’s friend.

“You are Balorz,” I said. No way I could twist this around.

“I am Balorz,” he confirmed, smiling.

“Sorry. I should have been honest with you. I just don’t want to sound like a novice.”

“No, it’s alright. I like you. You’re funny.”

But I don’t want to be funny. I want to be attractive and sexy, then funny.

“Later man. I hope we talked again, Adenike,” he said, and with a wink at me he turned. I watched him bounce down the steps and turned left until he is out of sight.

“Wow. you just chased away a rich potential boyfriend,” David said. “It’s probably for the best. You hate his type, right?

I rolled my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me who he is?”

“There was no time. I tried stopping you but you kept rambling on.”

“I hate you.”

“I know. I know.” He wrapped his arm around my neck and peck me.

“Now leave me alone to enjoy these last twenty minutes,” he said and shove me away.

I obeyed him. I left him alone so I could focus on other things. Things that could inspire me for my next book. Like the striking man in my vision. I have a feeling I’ve seen him before. If only I could see his face.

He stood up at once and because I haven’t prepared myself for the swift movement, he caught me looking. For the first time, I held a man’s stare. His silver eyes narrowed at me, commuting in a foreign language to my brain, rendering it useless. That is the only explanation for what I did next. I bit my lower lips and with slow and sultry motion, I release the wet skin from my teeth. Then I wink.

His eyes widened and his head jerked back. He was shocked but he quickly composed himself. He looked away and walked past me.

What was I thinking? I’ve never done that with a stranger before. Sure, we steal glances at each other, but that is it. I don’t hold their stare and wink at them. The worst part is he didn’t even smile or wink back. He seems disappointed and angry.

“Hey,” David nudged me.

“Don’t talk to me. You said I should leave you alone, remember?” I said, keeping my face straight ahead.

“Stop. I need to show you something now. Do you see the man that just walked past us?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“Yes. He’s Khal Haddad, one of the billionaires of UAE.”

“Really?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Yes. Can we talk about something else?” I asked, though I tried not to be bitter. Why didn’t he smile? I’m a beautiful girl. The face cap might have hidden my hair, but it sure adds to my cuteness.

“I like that you don’t throw yourself over men just because of their money,” he said. “He probably has girls throwing themselves over him. That’s why he is so proud.”

I squinted my eyes at him. Is that jealousy or bitterness?

“Oh, come on. Don’t you see the way he carries himself? He is a proud motherfucker.”

“Have you met yourself?” I asked.

David is an attractive guy, and he is well aware of that. God blessed him with black rosy Nigerian skin, non-fat face with a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. His full pink lips screamed to girls that it needs to be devoured. Being aware of this, he is an egomaniac who has no sensitive concerns to girl’s feelings.

“I’m nothing like him,”

“Yeah, right.”

He folded his arms on his chest and looked straight. I’ve upset him, but I don’t care.

Why are young, handsome, rich man always intense though? What do they get from it? More money, more girls, or is it a requirement to become a young, handsome billionaire? One would think they should be the jolliest of all since they seem to have everything.

With no eye-catching man to gawk at anymore, I tried to understand the football game. It’s thrilling but it would always be guys running around on a field trying to get a ball into a net to me.

*

After the final whistle, I dragged David from his seat, preventing him from having any post-match celebration. His team won and I know I have to get him out of the stadium before the celebration start. Otherwise, I would be stuck forever on the chair, carping while my friend dance and sings.

“Did you enjoy this?” David asked once we got settled in his car.

I take off my face cap and dump it on my lap. “Well, I didn’t realize I was going to like it at first but after the thrill and—”

“Nike, did you enjoy it or not?” he asked again and hold my hands, all the while staring into my eyes.

I don’t like it when he does this. Display his emotions out and get all serious and sore. I always feel guilty.

“Okay, I enjoyed it,” I said. I let out a silence breath when he let go of my hands.

“I’m glad you did.”

He continues to stare at me. It’s so unsettling.

He’s being vulnerable, letting all his emotions out in the open.  I like David but I’ll never do him. He’s my best friend since high school. End of story.

A tap on the window makes him divert his eyes from me. I would forever be grateful for this interrupter. A man with shades wearing a black suit under this sizzling sun.

David winds down his window.

“Hello, I need to speak with the lady,” the man said.

“And why is that?” I asked before David could.

“My boss requires an attention from you,” he said.

“I would need you to step back now.” “And who does your boss thinks he is?” David and I said at the same time.

David winds up his windows, causing the man to jolt back. He starts the key and was about to drive out when a black SUV drive and park in the way.

We exchanged glances. His eyes say he is about to go into full destruction mode and mine says I’m about to be scared shitless.

David got out of the car. Through the window he told me to stay put in the car. I didn’t.

I got out of the car and cross the hood to David.

The suit man ran to the car and before he touched the driver’s side door, it opened. A man got out of the car. A man in a white shirt. Khal. I glanced at David to ensure he is seeing the same things as I am.

What does he want from me? To laugh in my face for flirting with him, or to reprimand me for flirting. I could feel my racing heartbeat intensifying as the questions juggle around each other in my mind.

He held out his hands. “Pardon my security. He has a way of getting people agitated,” he said, smiling. Jeff stands straight, hands clasped together in front and stares straight ahead. Like the security he is.

When Khal moved towards us and offer his hands to David, I was certain he won’t accept it but he did.

“Hello. I’m Khal.”

“David.” Their handshake was firm and quick.

“And you?” Khal asked me, his hand stretched out.

“Adenike,” I said and shook him. And I smiled. I can’t help it. One has no choice but to keep up with this mysterious man.

“I would love a word with you, Adenike,” he said. He pronounced my name easily.

“Would you mind, David?”

David is unimpressed. He had his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed at Khal. He wanted to say something, but I beat him to it.

“He wouldn’t mind. Let’s talk in your car,” I said. The sooner I get rid of him, the sooner I leave this hot sun. I’m attracted to him and a small part of me wants to kiss him but I dislike arrogance in guys. That is a huge turnoff.

“Good,” he said.

David holds my arm, halting me from moving. “What are you doing?”

“I can handle myself. Don’t worry,” I said and rolled my eyes.

He let go of my hand, and Khal led me to his car.

“So, what do you want,” I asked when we got settled in the car. It’s obvious he will continue to stare at me uttering nothing unless I talk first.

“I like you. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I want to date you,” he said, still staring at me.

Does this still work on girls? Yuck.

“I wasn’t going to do anything about it, but then you flirt with me.”

I did flirt with him. With my best sexy self, I smiled at him and tilted my head, “well, give me your number and I will call you when I get home.”

He diverted his eyes and chortles. I don’t know what’s funny. I waited until he quiet down. though, I secretly don’t want him to. His laughter is arousing.

“I like you. Oh, I like you,” he said, shaking his head. “Okay, give me your phone.”

I gave it to him. He input his digit in it, then gave it back to me. I saved it as Khal.

“I’ll call once I got home,” I said and just to add a little juice to my lie, I lean towards him and whisper in his ear, “and David is not my boyfriend so…”

I was going to retract back, but he gripped me and held me in place. “I like that,” he said, with no emotion. The same dead gaze he has when he looked away after I flirted with him was on him now. He looks scary. I feel my body shrinks down as I realized how close our lips are. My chest tightened and my heart rate increased. I need to do something.

“Okay.” I freed myself from him and got out of the car. I walked to David with heightened steps. He leans on his bonnet, no doubt trying to heat himself in case he needs to fight.

“Come on. Let’s go,” I said to him.

“I would like a word with the gentleman also.”

Are you crazy?

I squint at David to confirm if that’s okay with him. He just shrugged.

I sat in the car while they talked near the hood of David’s car. Khal is a weird arrogant lad. It feels like he has a mission that has nothing to do with dating me. Why else would a billionaire waste his time on an ordinary person? Or is he involve in human trafficking? And he sees me as an easy target since I’m so dumb enough to flirt with him first.

David comes to the car after almost five minutes. I was checking the time so I will know when to interrupt.

We watched as Khal and Jeff got into the SUV, reverse the car and zoom off.

“What does he want with you?” I asked.

“He wanted to know my relationship with you. I told him we are not dating.”

“He is a weird guy. He gave me his number to call him when I got home. As if I would.”

“I know you won’t,” he said, and smirks.

“What if I do?”

“You wouldn’t. he’s not your type, remember?”

An uneasiness settles in my stomach. I don’t mind rich guys. I told David I don’t like rich guys so I would have an excuse for not dating him. He seems to think there’s no way a girl won’t like him.