FOR YOU

I'm Priscilla

I'm awoken by my phone ringing. I check, praying it's not my alarm, and see an unknown number. Who could this be?

"Hello."

"Good morning, pretty face," the caller says. The voice sounds familiar. Adrian. What does he want?

"What?" I ask.

"Just checking on you, to see if you arrived safely, you know," he says from the other side of the phone.

"Yeah, I did. Where did you get my number?" There's no way I would have given him my number last night. Or was it still this night?

"From a friend. Look, I'm so sorry..." I cut him off before he can continue.

"You obviously aren't calling me at this time of the night to tell me that."

"It's actually seven in the morning, and yeah, I'm calling to apologize. Will I see you today? Please."

I check my phone. It's fifteen minutes past seven. s**t! I have an appointment with an editor in the next forty-five minutes.

"Adrian, can I call you later? I have an appointment, and I am already late," I tell him as I quickly jump out of bed.

"What time is your appointment?" he asks.

"At eight. Why?"

"Nothing, just hurry. I'll call you later." And with that, he hangs up.

I quickly rush to the bathroom for a shower. When I get out, I see my mom preparing the table for breakfast.

"Young Miss Malua, there's no way you'd have showered in two minutes."

"Good morning to you too, Mom. I'm late for my appointment," I tell her as I rush to my room to get dressed. When I’m done, I have only twenty minutes left. There is no way I will be there on time. Today is Monday, and the traffic is just hectic.

"Aren't you having breakfast, honey?" my mom asks as she sips her cup of coffee. I wonder why she isn't ready to go to work.

"No, Mom, I'm so late. See you later." I give her a peck and run outside, grabbing my purse and phone.

These heels are killing my feet, but I have no choice since it's advisable to look professional for a first appointment. It's seven forty-five; there's no way I'll make it on time. I decide to call Mr. Wale, the editor, to reschedule the meeting.

"Hello, sir. I'm so sorry, but I might arrive late. If you have something to do, we can reschedule," I plead over the phone.

"Miss Priscilla, I don't think I'll be free later this week, but I'll give you an extra fifteen minutes. If you're not here by eight-fifteen, we are done!"

"Okay, thank you, sir. I'll be there."

God, I have to make it. This is my only chance to get my book out there, and I can't miss it. I check my wallet to see if I can afford a cab, as taking a bus will waste time I don't have. As I unlock my phone to order an Uber, I see a black Range Rover Sport pull up in front of me. I check my dress to make sure I don't look inappropriate. I'm not. My dress is short, but it’s above the knee and not too tight, and I have a blazer on top. There’s no way I look inappropriate, so why would such an expensive vehicle stop in front of me? The window lowers, and I hear a male voice.

"Need a ride, Miss?"

"No, thank you," I reply, looking away. I don't care to know who it is, but the voice sounds familiar. It's him.

"Adrian, what are you doing here?" I'm angry but also relieved I might get a ride.

"Since I misbehaved last time, I thought I’d give you a ride to show you how sorry I am," he says.

"No, I'm fine. You can leave. I don't need it." I actually need it.

"Come on, pretty face. You and I both know you're running late. Just get in, and I'll drop you off. I promise to keep my mouth shut until we get there."

"Fine, but don't you dare talk to me," I tell him as I get in. He’s quiet and isn’t starting the car.

"You don’t expect me to tell you to drive," I say. Why is he playing games when I’m running late?

"You haven't told me your destination," he says without looking at me.

"Oh, the Hilton hotel." And with that, he starts the car.

"Could you drive slowly, please?" As much as I am late, I'm not ready to lose my life for it.

"Did you check the time? It's already eight." Right, he doesn't know I have an extra fifteen minutes.

"I was given fifteen extra minutes, so you can reduce your speed," I tell him.

He reduces the speed, and I look out the window, avoiding looking at him.

"Still don't want me to talk to you?" he asks.

"Yeah, but before you shut your mouth, how did you know where I stay?" He’s learning a lot about me without my telling him.

"The same friend who gave me your number." I wonder who this friend could be.

"Who is this friend?"

"I can't tell you that, but he's a mutual friend. You don't have to worry." I try to think who that could be, but no one comes to mind. Maybe I'll find out later.

"Look, pretty face, I'm so sorry about last night. I was drunk, and I didn't mean to do that," he apologizes. I was avoiding this apology, but he finally got it out.

"Okay, just drop me off here. I'll go through the back."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, thanks for the ride," I tell him as I unlock the door.

"No, let me do it." He says as he unlocks his, but I beat him to it and get out. I don't need that kind of treatment.

"Wait, could I at least get your name?" He still doesn't know my name.

"Didn't that mutual friend give you my name?"

"No, he didn't. He said I should get it from you," he says.

Well, that really sounds like a friend of mine. "I'm still mad at you, you know. I'll tell you my name once I feel you're sorry enough," I tell him.

"Does that mean I'll see you later?" I hear him shout as I walk away.

***

The meeting with Mr. Wale was a success. He promised to edit my book and even get me a publishing contract. I was so lost for words. I decided to pass by the bookstore to check if new books had come in when I hear my phone ring. It's Julia.

"Hey girl, how did you disappear from the concert?" Why does she always have to scream?

"I was exhausted, and besides, I had an early appointment with the editor."

"I remember. So, how did it go?"

"It was good," I tell her with a smile.

"Nice. Okay, talk to you later, girl."

"Bye." Then she hangs up.

I enter the store but don't stay long because the old stock is still there. As I'm leaving the store, I see the same Range Rover from this morning. This guy is being too friendly, and I don't like it.

"Don't you have something to do?" I ask him once he opens the car door.

"I do, a lot of things, but since I was the one who brought you, I thought it would be noble if I drove you back." He gets in the car.

"Stop being too nice, Adrian. I hate it." He's pretending we're friends when I barely know him. Being nice to strangers is bad.

"I'm so sorry. I'm just trying to make up for what I did." Apparently, he won't stop pestering me if I don't forgive him.

"Okay, I forgive you. Now can I leave, and you promise not to show your face again?" I request.

"Can't promise to stay away, but I can promise to reduce the number of times you see my face." He’s making it harder than I thought it would be.

"Fine, goodbye, Adrian." I open the door, but before I can get out, he stops me.

"But if you don't tell me your name, you might be seeing more of me today." I'm not in the mood to see him again, at least not today.

"Fine, I'm Priscilla."

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