She spotted him sitting in the corner booth of the bar restaurant. He was attractive. Damn. This one would be fun. She walked up to him and noticed he was sipping something from a glass. “Not a beer man?” He looked up, taken by surprise at first, but quickly caught on as she sat down on the bar stool across from him. He smiled, the charming smile that every guy who is thinking about “later tonight” gives on a date.
She smiled her coy smile and knew he was checking her out. Good. She had dressed up, a black leather jacket for the cold, Nairobi weather, a mini dress, and thigh-high boots. The only other times they had seen each other was in the workspace where professional and cover up were necessary. Here though she could play around with the visibility of her skin. Most men were easy. You knew what they wanted and if you dangled it out in front of them long enough they would listen to you eagerly like a puppy after a bone.
“Have I kept you waiting long?” she asked.
He chuckled, “Waiting for someone as sexy as you is not a problem.”
She laughed, “Ehh, smooth guy hey? Well, I apologize either way. I got really held up today at the bank.” She tried to emphasize the distress in her voice.
He took the cue and automatically became concerned, “Ohh is everything okay?”
She waved her hand in what she knew was a pathetic attempt at nonchalance. “Ohh, I don’t want to ruin my date with my issues. It’s okay let us talk about you first.”
“Are you sure? You know you can tell me right?”
“Yes. Yes. I am fine. It should be sorted out soon.” She smiled, knowing she had planted a seed. That was all she needed to do.
The date went on. The conversation flowing faster than their rounds of drinks. It was easy. It was fun. She made sure to not enjoy herself too much. In the end, as he walked her out of the mall towards the taxis, she kissed him. A passionate kiss that would leave him wanting more.
“When are you free again? This weekend? Another date?” he asked.
“How about tomorrow?” she smiled again, “Let’s be spontaneous.”
He was infatuated and drawn in by her boldness. How could he refuse? “Tomorrow evening? I’ll be in the office all afternoon.”
“Sure. It’s a date.” She left him standing there confused at his good luck at having found a babe so fine.
“Jama” he texted his roommate, “uko home? Aki this dame I met. Waaaaaaaahhhh.”
He got no response and headed home with stars in his eyes, eclipsing his vision with the fantasy of her in his head.
The roles were reversed. This time he walked in on her already waiting for him. He had told her he would be late though. He had had back-to-back meetings all afternoon and he was tired. She, however, was a sight for sore eyes. She was dressed in a black blouse and skirt with a slit that slid up almost to her thighs. Damn, her body was the fire.
He walked up to her and caught her unawares, daydreaming. “Hey, there pretty lady. Have we met before?”
She immediately looked up and smiled at him. “Well, you do look familiar though I don’t think we have had the pleasure.” She played along with his comment, “I am sure I would have remembered someone as charming as you.”
He smiled and winked, “That is true. I am a hard man to forget.”
Their conversation was as easy as the day before: talking about nothing in particular, throwing in unabashed flirtations. Then she received a text and her face changed. He noticed the worried expression.
She looked up at him and breathed out a heavy sigh. “It’s a long story.”
He put down his phone, “tell me.”
“I really don’t want to burden you.”
“It is not a burden. Nini mbaya? Tell me.”
“Well, remember how I mentioned I have been having a problem with my bank Jana? Well, it turns out they have closed my account which is incredibly frustrating.”
He tried not to be suspicious but was wary of her asking for money she might ask for money. “Do you know why they have closed it?”
She waved a hand in the air, “Ohh, I am sure it is just a misunderstanding. I will probably just go on Monday when the manager is in and sort it out. The inconvenience is that I was supposed to receive money tomorrow from a client abroad and now there’s no way to receive it as sorting out my account may take an indefinite time period.”
She rolled her eyes and then sighed, “Or maybe… No, no that would be imposing.”
“What are you thinking?” he asked, concern etched in his voice.
“I don’t know. It is a silly idea but I was toying around with the possibility of you receiving the money for me in your account. It would be a business transaction only and I can even give you a small percentage, a commission of sorts for being the middleman.”
He hadn’t been expecting this but being paid to receive money? He was not a fool, he was, in fact, a Nairobi hustler so if this meant helping a girl out, scoring bonus points for him as the Prince charming, and earning a few notes on the side?! There was no way he was going to say no. “Sure, sure. No problem.” He gave his most winsome smile, “how could I ever refuse to help a damsel in distress, especially one as pretty as you.”
Her face melted into a relieved smile. “Thank you. You do not know how much this means to me.”
They exchanged details of the transaction. The amount to be received would be Ksh. 1.4 million, and he would need to pick it up the next day…
He left the office early and walked up to the bank. It was on Kimathi Street, not too far from the building where he worked. This was going to be interesting. He was half expecting to not find any money. That expectation was quickly proved wrong as he walked out the doors of the bank a few minutes later with over a million shillings on his person. He suddenly felt vulnerable, like everyone could see right through him to the Mullah. He would need to call her as soon as he sat down somewhere safe. He met her, gave her the money and spent the night at her house. Good times. He could get used to the 5-star treatment she had given him.
He had a problem with his bank account. He had been called in to sort it out. He went to see the manager. The bank manager said he would get in touch. He didn’t walk ten steps before he heard his name being shouted by a low agitated voice. “Turn around and face me.”
The cop had a gun pointed straight at him, and some involuntary force made him push his arms in the air. “You are under arrest for bank fraud…” The rest was a blur.
She knew it was a set-up. Njoroge, the cop she was working with called her to tell her that he was in custody. It had gone smoother than the last time. It was sad though. She had kind of liked this one. She knew he was connected and in this city, being connected was all you needed to be let go. He would be out by morning and his case would be dismissed in another week or so. To believe this was how she was able to remain so detached.
She allowed herself to move on. She was meeting Njoroge in a couple of hours to give him his cut of the money. It was time she closed her next deal. What would she wear? Should she let the next victim into her bed or just string him along? Well, it was a deal for 1.7 million so she would play it by ear.
Time for a sexy selfie. It was time to spin a new web to catch some fresh bees.
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This story is loosely based on some confessions on Twitter 2 weeks ago – #KibandaSelfie. Single lady in Nairobi is a collection of real-life stories and opinions from different women. It looks at the current world of dating and the experiences that ladies have gone through. The views and opinions expressed here are those of the contributors and do not necessarily represent or reflect the views of Potentash.com.
Featured image via www.thelmathinks.com.