Continued from here.
I don’t care if we’re on the run, baby long as I’m next to you…
Beyoncé is blasting from the corvette stereo and this feels so right. I look over at Jide who is humming along and he winks at me.
I smile shyly.
Me: “This car rocks! So vintage, I love it.”
He looks at me, with something a little like victory shining in his eyes.
Jide: ‘So I killed shit? Like the young kids will say. Yes?
I laugh at his use of ‘modern’ lingo.
“Yes Jydo, you killed shit.” I mock.
Jide: “You look so beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful. I feel like a king right now… I know all the men at dinner will envy me for sure. You best tell them you’re taken. Stamped and sealed.”
Me: “Thank you, you look rather dapper yourself.”
I glance over his outfit, giving it a quick perusal.
He’s wearing a Brioni head to toe and a Bulgari Diagono Chronograph.
Very impressive. Jide has style. Such a major plus. There’s nothing quite like a custom made suit and they cost a little fortune if I must add.
And that watch. Maybe I am overdoing it, but I like a man who always wears a watch. Am I the only lady with this little fetish? I just think that a man who wears a watch values his time and is not a Johnny just come.
Ugh, he looks so good. In a Joe DiMaggio meets P Diddy kinda way and I am his Marilyn Monroe.
We arrive at Intercontinental Hotel, VI while I am reacquainting Jide with our agreement about meeting my family.
Me: “Remember you promised not to humor my family. If they try to embarrass me with memories or stories of my growing up years, just casually brush them off or change the topic.”
As I’m rambling, he takes me into his arms and he is smiling down at me and I stop mid rant when I feel a bulge in his trousers that is definitely not a mobile phone or a wallet!
I can’t help but wiggle a little to satisfy my feminine senses.
Jide: “Cara mia, pray tell, how can I possibly distract them?”
I’m still in his arms, his hands are wrapped around my waist, on the small of by back.
Me: “Hmmm, tell them about your Villa in Italy. Or the time you went to Rome with Richard Branson and you two visited the Trevi Fountain.”
He laughs and his whole body shakes with him.
Jide: “Oh jolie, where did I get you from? How do you come up with these things? Why in the world would I tell you family all that? Let’s go inside. It’s chilly and you’re dressed in a mosquito net.”
I punch his shoulder!
Me: “This is Versace Mr!”
He looks down at my outfit.
“Mosquito net by Versace. Innit?” he says and we both crack up.
We locate our party and immediately spot Tunde, Lola’s husband. He beams and gives me a fist bump. Tunde and Lola have been married for 15 years now but they act like newlyweds in their own reality show. They have no chill! They talk publicly about everything. I mean everything.
Their sex life included. Like I said, everything.
So you better believe they throw a hell of a party and they have the most outrageous and fun friends. Jide is in for a great shock!
Tunde: “My CARO!”
Oh God! I smile my megawatt smile. Tunde lifts me off the ground and spins me around in a 360 spin.
“Tunde you need to realize I’m not 14 anymore, I am an adult now with a job and the works. I have Mummy glands now.” I say laughing.
Tunde: “Chai! All this your oyinbo! You look like a fountain of dewy chocolate on silk mon cherie.”
I smile and poke his ribs.
Me: “Did you Google all that?”
Tunde: “Lola made me learn all that. She made me watch Sex and The City last night. The torture.”
Jide is quiet at my side, smiling and observing. So I take a deep breath and… wait, what am I going to introduce him as?
My boyfriend? My friend?
He called me his love interest…
Me: “Tunde meet Jide Babatedo. Jide meet Tunde, Lola’s husband of 15 years.”
They immediately shake hands and pat shoulders.
Tunde compliments Jide on his time piece and tells him he owns the exact same one, they immediately start gisting about their love for quality time pieces.
I roll my eyes. Men.
Jide: “Cara mia, would you like something to drink?”
Tunde grins and says, “Aww, so romantic.”
We all giggle. Then out of no where, we all jump a little at the next words we hear…
“Tunde! Where is that my daughter that changes her skin color every time I see her? What color is she now? Has she finally turned white? Ibukun da? Omo mi da?”