8 Here We Go Again

I had just finished with a customer who said she was happy to have met me when I heard a charming voice. It was the type of voice that will make you turn sharply and swallow.

"Good morning sir."

I turned sharply that I almost hurt my neck. It was so unbelievable that she sprang out at the most unusual and unsuspected time. I felt like running to her and embracing her. I felt like saying many things to this God-sent lady who made my colleagues treat me with undeserved respect. But I only stood looking, not knowing what to do.

Finally, she smiled. It was so perfect that I thought it complemented her light complexion.

"Can I sit down?" she asked humbly.

"Please. Where do I start?" I asked rhetorically, "I must say that I have been trying to reach you over the last thirteen months, one week and five days…" I stopped and clasped my hands on my table.

"I must start by appreciating what you did for me." I waved my hand around my office, "secondly, it has been very embarrassing that I don't even know your name…" I stopped abruptly again, "just tell me, where have you been?" I asked at last feeling completely relieved. She laughed out of pleasure and not pride.

"I have always known that I have a lot of questions to answer, my name is Layen Duko and I have been in Abuja and other places."

"Miss Duko…"

"Call me Layen."

"I'm deeply indebted to you. "

"Don't say that. Thanks for appreciating your new job."

I was kept in awe again. She has a humble personality, even though she looked sophisticated.

She was so easy to talk to, and expectedly, we became friends. She gave reliable business advice that got me wondering if she was really 24 or 25 years as I had presumed.

She went back to Abuja but for several months we kept in touch. We called each other twice in a day; before and after work.

I called her on a Thursday and asked her to come to spend the weekend with me in Enugu. She declined, but I pressed hard.

"I have two spare rooms, you can use one…I mean, it's just… please Layen," I pleaded and she agreed at last. I pressed my luck further.

"Can you make it tomorrow?"

"Hey! I can't. I have to get some things ready; I will see you on Sunday morning."

"Sunday is not weekend. Please make it tomorrow. Should I say please again?" I can still hear that laughter that emanated from a real tender heart.

"Don't say it," she said at last.

"Then, will you come on Friday night?"

The line seemed dead. I could hear her mentally going through her schedule. After that rich silence, she gave out a long sigh and agreed to come on Friday night.