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September 23, 2018

I can string GG along for a while, but about Daudi...

“Let’s go to Kempinski,” Daudi says.

It is very, very late by now. “To do what?” I ask.

He has the grace to look flustered. “My wife thinks you and I are dating so let’s make it so.”

That’s it? That’s his line? If that’s your motivation, man, good for you, what is mine? He keeps me waiting for hours, speaks to me for five minutes and thinks he will drop the name of a big hotel and I will automatically spread my legs for him. People are really losing it! It can get rather exhausting mingling with members of the male species in this town. They are enervated.

“Let’s talk business,” I say.

“We are in a bar,” he protests. I don’t point out that this was the whole purpose of the meeting in the first place.

“Let’s talk business tomorrow,” he says.

GG approaches to say hello to him. They shake hands but it looks more like a meeting of swords. It’s interesting to watch. I feel like I’m supposed to say or do something definitive but what? Daudi looks very pleased with himself for some reason. GG has the swagger of a man in control. What’s going on here? Did I miss something? GG says he is on his way out and leaves us.

I stand up and bid Daudi goodnight. “You won’t come with me?” he sounds surprised.

“Not tonight,” I say.

“When?” he asks.

I don’t answer and instead shrug non-committally. I don’t have time for this. I smile and bid him farewell. He’s not going to help me; he just wants to get laid. I can tell the type.

GG meanwhile has not left. He is sitting at a table flanked by two girls. I approach him.

“I thought you were leaving?” I ask.

He shrugs. I can tell he is not happy with Daudi and I speaking but it doesn’t bother me. He has entertainment of his own, does he not? Grey areas are interesting. You are not in a relationship but it’s not strictly platonic either. Who can claim the other as their property?

“You’re leaving with me,” I say completely ignoring the girls with him.

“I am?” he asks.

“Yes. I’ll be outside.”

I walk out. It’s a calculated risk. Go big or go home, they say. Five minutes later, he emerges. “Now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?” he asks.

“Take me home?” I ask.

He smiles. “Sure thing, baby…”

Mr N has given me instructions regarding this man. He wants me to string him along for a while. He thinks he will lose interest if I give up the goodies so soon. But what does Mr N know about seduction? I’m the woman, not him. Besides, all I need to do is sleep with him once for our little blackmail scheme to work. Why wait?

“How do you know Daudi?” he asks.

“I met him in Mombasa a few months ago. He says he will help me get some government contracts,” I say.

“Why should he help you?” he asks.

“Why shouldn’t he?” I counter.

“Men like those don’t do anything without getting something in return,” he answers.

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” I say with a smile. “I can handle Daudi.”

Daudi’s reputation is well known to me. He is a womaniser and is rumoured to never use protection with his women. His friend’s wives are not off limits either. Most importantly, he is tightfisted and never helps any of the women he beds, save for one. This one he loves and he even set her up with a cushy government appointment. Yes, I wasn’t born yesterday. For Daudi to help me there needs be a compelling reason. And sleeping with him isn’t it.

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