Addie stood by the corner of the wine bar counter of the club, waiting to greet her boss Mr Vincent Alejandro.
He was obviously a drug dealer, and the grand club was one of the clubs he owned in California. He owned Casinos and strippers club in Texas and Las Vegas.
He was a lanky, slender Columbian man, quiet, yet controlling and authoritative.
“Addie, nice work yeah!” He said, nodding his head as he walked around the club. Addie smiled and walked behind him too as he checked out the club. He had two women, dressed almost naked in transparent brown net dress that revealed every part of their body including their pointed nipples.
Addie couldn’t take her eyes off them. She’d heard of Vincent Alejandro’s women. The ones who bathed him, drove him, and cooked meals for him, and the ones who accompanied him like these ones.
He never smoked, or drink. Addie thought men who owned Casinos in America were mainly drug-lords and addictive smokers, but for once, she had never seen Vincent with a cigarette.
“I used to hear Nigerians are very hardworking. Now I believe. I have heard of your good works.” Vincent said as he stared at Addie’s eyes. “You’re a beautiful woman. I Have heard a lot about the beauty of African women, now I see one, I am privileged that you work for me.”
“Thank you, Mr Vincent, I am grateful that you love my services.” Addie said carefully.
“You’re welcome beautiful woman.” He turned to the women behind him. “Natalia and Barakika, leave us.” He ordered. The two women walked out, striking the same walking style.
“This place was almost closed down some months ago, my cousin said when you took over and changed the concept of everything, our customers began to come back. I love your style.” He said in Columbia accent.
“Thank you, Mr Vincent.” Addie said again with a soft smile. Vincent was such a fine man, but not the kind of man she would love to have sex with.
“I will be expecting fifty guests from Russia next month. I am hosting them here, business partners. We will need lots of Vodka and beer. Russians don’t joke with good drinks.”
“Okay sir, noted.”
“Good Addie, good. You can go now.” He said.
Addie went back to the inner club house and inspected everything the waiters and waitresses were doing in there. It became a stressful day as Vincent kept calling her and talking about many other things.
The weekend passed in a blur of sickbeds, coffee and soups made with spinaches and chicken. Ida hadn’t come back from Mumbai. It was getting to winter and her body had not gotten used to the cold weather.
Two days had passed, and she had not been able to go to work. Vincent drove to her house on Kingston street that morning using a google map.
When the knock came softly on the door, she knew that he had arrived. She was hoping to see him with his girls as usual, but when she opened the door, it was only him she saw. He was wearing a grey coloured sweater, a pair of Jean and brown boots.
“Good morning Mr. Vincent.” Addie said softly.
“Nothing is absolutely good about this morning Addie, you don’t look well. Your eyes are gritty and pale.”
“I have been unwell.”
“Obviously.” He said. “Have you had medications?”
“No Mr. Vincent.” She replied as she widened the door for him to walk in.
“It’s just the cold. Nothing serious.”
“Okay…” he shrugged.
Then he held her hands playfully, “if I kiss you, and hold you warmly to myself, will you be well and resume work soon?” He asked. Addie smiled shyly. She didn’t know what to say to him. But whatever it was he wanted; she was ready to give it to him. He wasn’t her kind of man, but he would satisfy her if she gave in.
She walked gently to him and hugged him. His body was warm. He put his hands around her and kissed her forehead.