Chapter 2
Life was normal at first, but as the days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, I began feeling remorseful for the way I treated Isadora's number. What if she wasn't like other ladies? What if she was different from them?
Many questions seeking for answers filled my head, but I still managed to shove them aside. I wasn't ready for any heart break, not from any snip of a girl. True love was a word containing virus to me, true love is a scam. There's nothing like true love, all the ladies want is a guy to spend time with, a guy who they'll parasite on and sip him dry then jump to another person. Love is a pathetic meme, I no longer care about it. The way Nigerian ladies see relationship is not the way sane world ladies do, our ladies see relationship as an avenue to eat what they've never eaten in their entire life, and they see relationship as an occupation where they deserve payment in cash or kind without caring about the future of the young man they're siphoning from. All they care about is 'spend and squander your money’. Sadly, your entire life savings would be gone before your realize that. Love is a scam. If not for my parent's sake, I wouldn't dare to marry. If I want a kid, just get a lady and later pay her off, simple as that. No dramas, no threats and no regrets.
I was glad that I'll never come across Isadora again, but then life has a way of tossing us up and down and worst still to a direction we are afraid or reluctant to venture to. For the following week, I received a message from my office, with the instruction to cover an event in which the governor would be in attendance. I arrived early so as to get some information from the host, it wasn't long when the governor arrived with his entourage.
I covered the occasion with the assistance of Mr. James my partner, it was a wonderful event and I was fortunate to interview the governor for three minutes before he took his leave from the event. Being a journalist isn't an easy task, many a time I've been offered bribes to twist and cone a particular report either in favour or against a particular person or political party. I was an independent reporter, even my office had been compromised, the reason they still accept my unbiased report at times is because I'm an asset to them. All thanks to my large fan base of readers numbering close to eight million worldwide, they knew what they'll lose if I leave them. On my part, I seized the opportunity to revamp the newspaper house I work with. There were times I narrowly escape assassination, rumour had it that the opposition were behind it but I knew better.
Mr. James was a devout journalist like me, unlike me, he was a full employed journalist working with the newspaper house, he was bound to take whatever order they gave him. He was literally a puppet, I saw him as a good man, a man who was tired of dolling out lies and propaganda to the public, but it was his desire to stick to the job that made him vulnerable to playing to such an evil script. I felt some likeness for him the very day I first saw him at the Eagle-Eyes’ newspaper house, when the chief editor of Eagle-Eyes’ newspaper gave me options to choose an assistant, I wasted no time in picking Mr. James, although against the chief editor's wish. He somehow knew that it might make Mr. James bounce back to his real self, breaking free from the chain of puppetry, I stood my ground. He had no choice than to let me have my way. So far, Mr. James had become the good man I saw in him right from the first day I met him. To crown it all, Mr. James proved himself invaluable in the field of investigative journalism. I can vividly recall back when we embarked on an investigative report on a hotel manager who kidnapped his guests, the role Mr. James played during our investigations and fishing for stories, one who mistake him for an agent serving with the FBI. The success of our investigations were championed by his dogged spirit in unveiling buried secrets, though we succeeded, Mr. James contributed 70% to the success of our results which led to the tracking and arresting of the culprits.
I didn't notice when Mr. James packed everything neatly, it was when he called my attention seeking to know if I was ready to hit the road or still wants to linger on a bit that I noticed. My eyes gleamed in admiration and awe of his arrangements, I gave him some accolades at the same time asking for more time to linger on a few minute more. A mistake I regretted, for out of the blues Isadora appeared, all smiles, very beautiful with her curves, natural hairs and gap tooth which are my weak point.
“Not again…”, I murmured sadly.
“What?”, I heard Isadora asked.
“Nothing actually, it's so nice to see you again”, I tried to regain my composure.
“So how are you doing Mr. Handsome?”, She stretched forth her hand for a shake.
“I'm doing nice and you?”, I made to take the hand shake when she gently pulled me to herself and gave me a bear hug.
“I've missed you Mr. Thompson, honestly...I wouldn't lie,'' She broke the hug while still holding my hands.
“I miss you too..?”, I lied so she'll let me go but Isadora wouldn't have any of my fussing.
“Your number was going through but stopped, you never did reply my messages...Why Thompson?”, She accused while I appeared remorseful like a child who just broke a plate.
“I'm sorry miss...But his phone was stolen, he lost everything and when he retrieved his line… he couldn't get hold of your number”, Mr. James came to my rescue. I didn't notice when he came closer to us, maybe he appeared to have come at the right time.
“Thompson is that true?”, Isadora directed her gaze to me.
“Yeah…”, I replied with a nod.
“Oh...Poor Darlene. I'm so sorry for your lost, now come to mama…” She dragged me closer for another round of beer hug, while I watched Mr. James chuckled softly from the corner of my eyes.
“So...What are you doing here?”, I disengaged from the embrace to the disappointment of Mr. James.
“Came to cover the event, I'm a reporter...A reporter with Silver bird television”, Isadora smiled while I gave Mr. James a look.
“Wow...That's cool”, I was impressed.
“And you?”, She punched me playfully.
“Oh me...I'm just the working boy, carrying pen and paper jumping from here to there searching for stories”, Mr. James burst out laughing.
“You mean...You're a writer?”, Isadora asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, I am,'' I smirked silkily.
“And you?”, She directed her question to Mr. James.
“I'm an investigative journalist”, Mr. James replied with pride.
“Don't underestimate him, he's good to work with the FBI", I backed Mr. James up.
“That's so nice...Wow, but what type of writer are you...Thompson?”, Isadora pressed further.
“I'm an all-round writer but I specialize in writing love stories and investigative writings”, I chuckle while Isadora squeezed her face.
“Do you believe in love at first sight?”, Her question caught me off guard.
“Well…”, Mr. James made to speak but was cut short by Isadora.
“I'm not asking you but Mr. Thompson,'' She pointed at me.
“Well, I don't think I do...Love is a scam”, I replied her candidly.
“But you write love stories...Don't you?”, Isadora shook her head.
“Yes I do”, I replied absent minded.
“Yet you don't believe in love...Mr. Thompson?”, Isadora's voice sounded sad.
“Yes I don't believe in love”, I took a quick look at Mr. James who shook his head in pity.
“Then why writing love stories when you don't believe in love?”, Isadora moved closer.
“Because that's what I wrote on most before I stopped believing in love”, Came my feeble answer.
“I see...You've been hurt, hurt deeply. Hurt beyond repair, really hurt...But I promise that I will repair you to believe in love once again,” I noticed Mr. James smiled happily.
“Ha-ha...I don't think you can do that”, I laughed out.
“It's a promise, you'll see” She challenged with a determined face.
Mr. James cough to remind us of his presence, then turn toward our equipment while I bade Isadora good bye. Not after promising to hook up around Woji, though I was forced to accept the date.
“Hey! What's your name?”, Isadora swung back calling after Mr. James.
“James’ the name...But Jamie they call me”, Mr. James answered her while Isadora gave him a thumb up.
“Jamie it is then, catch you boys later”, Isadora turn back.
“Thompson you sabi fall hands oh…”, James began as we packed the equipment into the bonnet of our vehicle.
“Abeg Jamie forget that talk, love Na scam”, I waved him off.
“But sha...That babe set die come get sense, I bet you...You go fall”, James laughed.
“Fall? Fall for wetin?” I paused in my track.
“Fall for her,'' Mr. James gave me a toothy smile.
“Abeg come make we dey go jor, oga seer”, I teased him as we got into the vehicle with James sitting behind the wheel.
“So will you give her a chance?”, Mr. James angled his head.
“A chance for what?” I replied ignorantly.
“A chance for love…”, He pronounced the love like a nursery rhythm.
“ I don't think so”, I kept a straight face.
“Can't you see it all over her?”, Mr. James knuckle his palms.
“See what?”, I was getting pissed off.
“That she's already in love with you?”, Mr. James announced with a wide grin.
“Was that not how they all acted? Jamie...Please start this goddamn car and let's get the hell out of here”, I ordered while Mr. James fell silent. I felt bad though, felt really badly for being rude and harsh toward Mr. James.