L,F,B: Entry 12 (Patek-man)

Lara folded her legs carefully as she eyed the tall guy standing close to her table. Her eyes fell skillfully to his watch. They say you can tell a lot about a guy from his watch, his shoes and his perfume. She flipped her perfectly curled weave and stretched a little to look into the face of the watch.

Patek Philippe.

 She didn't fly all the way to Joburg for this wedding to look pretty for the photos and take home random souvenirs.  She rubbed her lips together, blending her lipstick and slowly got up. She could feel the attention shifting to her in her stunning dress. It was a peach, floor length, mermaid dress with a back so low, it made her giddy with excitement of the assurance of getting a man today; this Patek man in particular.

She had smirked at the bride, Peju (who was her work-colleague) when she wanted to sell her Aso-ebi* at the office. 'It's 90k', Peju smiled shyly, dropping the fabric carefully on Lara's desk.

Lara had raised her brow, ' So what should I use it for after? Does it also double as a magic carpet? You realize I'm buying a ticket to SA.  You should give everyone free Aso-ebi.'

She liked Peju so she bought it anyway. These brides who hustle to sell Aso ebi, that’s what happens when they don't target Patek-men. Well, at least their wedding was in South Africa, The four Seasons, that was acceptable. The aso-ebi fabric just sat in her closet along with several others. She already had her dress for the wedding. A bring-home-the-fella kind of dress. Only that the fella was the one who would be taking her home..... permanently.

She had told Lanre to come along but he kept saying he had to work things out with Tiide. She wanted to break that skinny girl in half. All Tiide ever was, was a confused brat toying with her brother. Any girl would kill for a proposal on a boat, with a rock that large and a man that sincere. Tiide thoughts aside, Lara smoothened her dress, feeling the eyes staring at her from around the hall. She walked past Patek-man, slightly brushing his arm and leaving a trail of her perfume behind. Nothing too intense, just Sí by Armani.

She flipped her hair again, just for effect, although she knew the curves and the dress were all the effects she needed. She lifted her phone to eye level and began to take pictures of the bride and groom. After two unfocused photos, she turned around and surely Patek guy had been looking at her. She locked eyes with him, made sure he acknowledged that she saw him and without skipping a beat she looked away from him, feigning disinterest. He'd imagine that she would go back to her seat so he could talk to her but she had been at this for too long.  She picked up her glimmering Swaroski studded clutch purse and walked out of the reception hall to the hotel Lobby.

Her measured steps accentuated her feminine poise produced by the heels. At this pace anyone could catch up to her. Before she could take another step, she heard a husky deep voice behind her.

 'Excuse me, Miss?'

She smiled, mentally tickled. 

To be continued.....

* Nigerian outfits made from traditional fabric, which are worn by a group of people to a party