by Kiru Taye
To keep her upright, he’d reached for her. The moment he’d pulled her against his body, there’d been a spontaneous link between them. She’d melded against him, relaxing in his hold. Instinctively, he’d grasped her as if she’d belonged in his arms.
In those seconds he’d been transported to another time and place with another woman. He hadn’t held a woman close in years, a lifetime ago it seemed.
He’d heard Tessa sniff his skin and sigh with pleasure. A smile had curled his lips at her response and he’d wanted to take her away to a quiet corner so he could find out more about her. So he could get lost in her feminine wonder.
When she’d looked up at him, the yearning in the depths of her amber gaze had burned into him, sparking a hidden lust to life. A craving he’d thought long dead.
Adrenaline spiked, his legs weakened. He’d offered to buy Tessa a drink, deciding he wasn’t in a rush to get back to the solitude of his suite after all. Telling her to come with him so they could talk in the hotel would have been presumptuous.
When she’d asked him to dance, a rush of pleasure made his heart thud fast at the chance of being physically close to her again.
On the parquet floor she’d set the blood in his veins alight, the low spark of attraction turning into a wild blaze. For the first time in a long time, in years, he’d found a woman physically irresistible. The way she moved against him. The smooth texture of her mocha skin. The soft bundle of her curves. The sound of her laughter. The blaze of need in her eyes. Everything about her had turned him on.
So when she’d asked if they should get out of there his normal, disciplined brain hadn’t been functioning. Her bold and direct approach had pushed his buttons. Without much thought, he’d taken her hand and they’d walked out of night club.
His intention had been to bring her here and up to his suite. He’d wanted to get to know her without the loud music and gyrating bodies as distractions. He hadn’t wanted to let her go. Not yet.
Until she’d started talking about money and the realisation of what she was had punched him right between the eyeballs.
A call girl? Yes, sex had been on his mind when he strode down the sidewalk with her hand in his.
The idea of paying for sex, of having sex for the first time in years with a hooker had made his stomach roil and his skin had prickled with unease.
Still, when he’d looked at her, he hadn’t seen a woman of ill-repute to be reviled. Instead he’d seen a hot babe who made his dick as rigid as an iron rod. A sexy woman he’d wanted to lock up in his suite, spread out on his bed and fuck nine ways to Sunday until they were both boneless.
The conflict between how he felt for her job versus how he felt about her had been too much to get his head around. He’d just turned and walked away from her.
Now she stood here. In the hotel lobby. Barely more than two hours after Peter had been with her. With another man. Had they had sex already? Had the man paid to do whatever he wanted to her body?
She looked like they’d gotten up to something rough considering she had her shoes in her hand. The shoulder seam of her dress hung loose where it’d been ripped and her hair stood in disarray.
His gut wrenched at the idea that the man had touched her in any way. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, his knuckles cracked as his hands bunched into fists.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a cold and sharp voice.
“P—Peter—I...” she stammered before trailing off and biting her bottom lip, her eyes cast down.
The man standing next to her gave Peter the once over. “Mister, this is none of your business.”
Before Peter could respond, the manager of the hotel hurried out from the staff entrance into the foyer.
“What’s the problem?” he asked the group gathered around the counter.
“This man said the girl stole some of his money,” the receptionist replied, pointing at Tessa and the man.
The muscles on Peter’s back tensed as nausea lurched in his gut.
Tessa was a hooker and thief? Damn! All her external beauty hid a devious personality.
He certainly didn’t want to get involved now. Shouldn’t get involved. Yet, he couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t bring his legs to move.
“Is this true, sir?” the manager asked.
“Yes. I’m Telema George. And this girl stole money from my room.”
Peter recognised the George surname. They were a prominent family in Rivers State. So it was perfectly likely that girls would flock to him and perhaps try to get as much money out of him as possible.
“I’m sorry, Mr George. We have zero tolerance for thieves in this hotel. I’m going to call the police,” the manager said and picked up the phone handset on the desk.
The manager was doing the right thing, following protocol. Thieves shouldn’t be tolerated. They should be made to pay for their crimes. If Tessa thought she could steal from people in this hotel and get away with it, then she was in for a shock. Had she been planning to steal from Peter too, if he’d taken her to his suite?
Peter’s gut clenched as if he’d been kicked, his body heavy with disappointment. For one brief, soppy moment tonight, he’d dared to think he would find delight in a woman’s company. In Tessa’s company. How wrong had he been? He dropped his head and closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Nothing else to do but walk away.
“Peter, please help me.” Tessa’s voice shook.
Peter lifted his head, stared at her and wondered what she wanted him to do.
Her eyes were over-bright and feverish, her gaze darting around the space. She rocked in place.
He recognised the desperation evident in her agitated motions. A chunk of his hardened heart crumbled. He swallowed to shift the lump in his throat. “Why should I help you?”
“I didn’t steal his money. I swear it.” There was a shimmer of tears in her eyes.
For some idiotic reason that he couldn’t understand, he believed her. Fool that he was. He’d always been a sucker for a woman’s tears. He had two younger sisters who’d maximised its effects often enough.
“Call the police,” the man beside her said, sounding irritated.
The manager stared at Peter, phone in hand, waiting for his authorisation.
Puffing out a deep breath, Peter shook his head. “Christopher, hold off on calling the police for now. I’ll let you know if things change.”
The man with Tessa swivelled and glared at Peter. “Who the hell are you to get involved in something that doesn’t concern you?”
Peter drew in an easy breath and relaxed his muscles. Shoulders back, chest out, he stared at the man with an unwavering steel, cold gaze. “Mr George, my name is Peter Oranye and I’m the owner of Park Hotel.”
Technically he had one-third ownership considering his friends Michael Ede and Paul Arinze owned a third each of the shares. But right here right now, he had sole responsibility for the outcome of this situation.
“So you see, everything that happens in this premises is my concern,” he continued.
Tessa’s mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. It’s nice to meet you, Peter.” The other man grinned. “I—”
“You may address me as Mr Oranye.” Peter cut him down. He couldn’t stand the man especially for having anything to do with Tessa. He had an unexplainable hatred for any man Tessa had sex with. He was better off not coming across them. And seeing this one just turned his stomach. So there was no way he was going to get on first name basis with him.
The grin on Telema’s face disappeared and he jerked back as if affronted. Peter didn’t care.
“Christopher, I’m going to use your office to have a chat with Mr George and Miss Tessa, so we can resolve this situation,” Peter continued.
“Of course, sir,” the manager said and headed towards a door marked ‘Staff Only’.
“Please follow him and we’ll get this sorted in private,” Peter said, wa
ving a hand in the direction Christopher headed.
Although this was late on Friday night and there were only a few patrons still up and about, he didn’t like having anything controversial being discussed out in the open. This was still a reputable business and he wanted to maintain the hotel’s unblemished record.
Telema nodded and followed Christopher. Tessa hesitated for a moment before looking up at Peter and meeting his gaze. She fidgeted with the handle of her bag, blinked rapidly, opened her mouth and closed it as if unable to form words. The foyer lay cool from the AC but a sheen of sweat glistened on her skin.
The bold girl he’d met in the club seemed replaced by a frightened Tessa.
He resisted taking a step towards her. He wanted to reassure her that she would get a fair hearing. But he also didn’t want her to think she could get away with causing trouble in his hotel.
If she wanted to sell her body, then it was her prerogative. But she couldn’t do it in his premises ever again.
“Tessa, go on,” he said, keeping his tone neutral.
Her throat rippled as she swallowed hard. She nodded and joined the other men down the corridor. Peter walked behind her, keeping a couple of strides between them. Her shoulders were slouched and her steps hesitant, her bag clutched to her side, shoes still in hand.
Why would she be reluctant about facing the other men if she was innocent of the accusation of theft? She was a woman who made money in the company of men. He expected her to be confident and relaxed like she’d been in the club. Perhaps she knew she was in trouble regardless of the stealing charges.
Christopher unlocked the door and allowed Telema to go in first. Tessa glanced at Peter before walking in.
Peter drew in a long breath, blew it out and followed suit. It has been a long day. He’d been hoping to get to bed soon. It looked like sleep was a long way off for him tonight.
“Thank you, Christopher. You can leave us alone.”
“Yes, sir.” The manager shut the door of the office on the way out.
Peter strode around the beech wood desk and settled into the blue cushioned office armchair. He waved at the matching chairs on the other side of the desk. “Please sit down, both of you.”
Telema moved first, taking the one on Peter’s left. Tessa walked slowly to the other seat and lowered her body into it. With her shoes and bag on her lap, her bum on the edge, she appeared as if she expected to sprint out of the room in a blink of an eye.
“Mr George, tell me what happened.” Peter leaned back in his chair, projecting calm that he didn’t exactly feel. But he had to be neutral until he had heard both accounts. He would listen to the plaintiff first before turning to the defendant.
“Well, I met this girl—” the man started.
“Her name is Tessa. I’m sure you know that already.” Peter interrupted him. The man was being rude by referring to Tessa as ‘this girl’ and Peter had no problems putting him in his place.
He couldn’t stand the hypocrisy of the man. And people like him. If she was good enough for sex, then she should be good enough to be given basic courtesy.
“Of course I know that,” Telema said in an irritated voice. “Yes, I met Tessa at the night club and I brought her here to my room for us to continue having a good time. When I went into the bathroom she took money from my wallet.”
Tessa gasped, mouth falling open as her hand flew to her chest.
Telema’s eyes flicked to the side but he ignored her reaction and continued. “I saw her running away and chased her down the stairs to the lobby where I caught her. I want her punished. You must call the police.”
“Of course, Mr George. I’ll get to the bottom of this and deal with the young lady as required.”
Telema’s story didn’t ring true. On the face of it, it seemed plausible that things had happened the way he narrated it. But it didn’t explain why Tessa’s outfit was torn and her hair in a mess.
Now was a good time to hear her version. He turned to her. “Tessa, tell me what happened. You met Mr George at Xtasy, is that correct?”
“Yes...Sir. Um.” She swallowed and wiped a hand over her mouth.
“After...I went back into the club and met my friend Anuli. She was with Telema...Mr George and another man whose name is David. They were buying us drinks and then eventually they suggested we come over here. They booked a room each. Anuli had already agreed the price with them.” She swallowed again and looked away as if uneasy saying more.
“So you came to Park Hotel to have sex with Mr George for money?” Peter asked, wanting her to confirm the purpose for their stay in the hotel so he didn’t make assumptions.
Telema shifted in his chair, restless as he coughed.
Tessa glanced at Peter and he nodded to encourage her.
“Yes,” she said, twisting the handle of the black bag. “Anuli went with David and Mr George took me to his room. Inside he wanted me to dance with him. He was playing music from his phone and we danced for a while. But things didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to continue so I told him to stop but he refused. He offered me extra money to stay and I rejected it. I didn’t want to have sex with him. He grabbed me and we struggled. That’s how my dress got torn.”
She tugged at the torn seam for emphasis. “Then I stamped on his foot to try and get away. He let me go and I ran out of the room. I took my shoes off when I got to the stairs and ran down. But when I got to the lobby he shouted for the men to stop me and told them I stole from him. It is a lie. I never touched his money. He said if I went back to his room with him, he would forget everything. That was just before you showed up.”
“Did he give you any money?” Peter asked, wanting to find out how far they had gotten, even as bile rose in his throat. Why did the idea of another man touching her rile him so much?
In this moment, he envied judges who decided over criminal or civil cases, trying to make impartial decisions based on evidence without personal prejudices slipping in. In this matter, he had to make a decision based on their explanations, body language, very little evidence and his gut feeling.
“No. He never gave me any cash because we never had sex. I couldn’t...” she trailed off.
Peter couldn’t explain the rush of relief that went through him because she hadn’t had sex with Telema. He tamped down the urge to walk round the table, pull her into his arms and kiss her. Crazy, but true.
“Mr George. How much money do you say Tessa stole from you?”
Telema shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know exactly but I think it was Twenty Thousand Naira.”
Tessa gasped again and shook her head.
Peter ignored her reaction and spoke in a calm tone. “So if I search her bag, I should find the amount in there.”
“I don’t know. Anyway why are we wasting time with all this? You should call the police already.”
“I can’t call the police until I’m sure that a crime has been committed. It would be wrong to accuse someone falsely.”
“What? You think I’m lying? You’re going to believe her over me? She’s just a prostitute.”
Peter’s hands gripped the arms of the chair tightly but he still didn’t raise his voice. “And you’re a man who pays women for sex. You are no better than her in my opinion.”
Telema pushed back his chair and stood. “You can’t insult me like that. I’m Telema George.”
Peter rose too, folding his hands across his puffed out chest. “I know exactly who you are, Mr George. You brought a call girl into my hotel against our policy. When the girl refused to have sex you tried to force her. When that didn’t work you accused her of stealing. Attempted rape is a crime, Mr George. Worse than theft.”
“You can’t prove anything.” Telema sneered at him.
“In the same way you can’t prove that she stole from you. Pass me your bag, Tessa.”
She handed him the item without hesitation, her unease gone.
Placing the purse on the table, he unclipped the metal c
lasp and opened it wide. He removed the items, placing each on the table surface side by side as if he were baring her life to their eyes—a small brown tube of lipstick, a face powder compact of the same colour, a black butterfly hair clip, a aluminium metal ring with two house keys, a black mobile phone, a white pack of three female condoms, two strawberry flavoured condoms, a little pack of wet wipes and a small plastic bottle of lubricant.
These were the tools of her trade. They defined her in much the same way as the items in his briefcase defined him as a business man. He learnt a lot about her from the contents of her purse.
Tessa was a woman whose appearance mattered and she understood the important of her sexual health. The constriction around his chest eased a little because she was smart enough to take precautions.
Telema leaned his hands on the top of the chair he’d vacated while Tessa watched on in silence, her arms around her midriff.
In the side pocket he pulled out a bunch of used notes. He counted them out loud for everyone’s benefit. Four Thousand and Five Hundred Naira. He tipped the bag over, shaking it. Nothing else came out. He dropped the empty purse on the desk.
“As you can see, Mr George, Tessa doesn’t have your money. If you paid her for the night, she should have at least ten thousand.” He remembered how much she’d told him about her fee. “And you claim she stole twenty. But this is nowhere near that amount. How do you explain it?”
“I—I—I don’t know. She could’ve hidden it somewhere. Have you searched her body? Who knows where women hide things?” he replied in a condescending tone.
“I didn’t take your money. You can search me.” She stood up abruptly, arms dangling down her sides.
“No one is going to conduct a body examination on you.” Peter cut in, surprised at the vehemence in his tone. His muscles tightened. He couldn’t explain this compulsion to protect her. But, he’d be damned if he’d allow Telema or anyone else to probe her physically.
“She could be hiding the money anywhere.” Telema grumbled, waving his hand up and down to indicate Tessa’s person.