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Eki could feel Reginald’s eyes tailing her, measuring and gauging her...

She felt shy...uncomfortable. She could barely make out the words of the keynote speaker now as his voice boomed over the public address system at the annual business managers’ conference and dinner at the Civic Centre, Victoria Island.

It seemed Reginald’s cursory glances and whatever they stirred in her drowned everything else around her in the hall dimly lit with decorative lights.
Occasionally, she too would steal a look at the perfect gentleman in a tux with an unassuming visage (at least from the distance), sitting alone at a table for three, with legs slightly crossed and a small leather briefcase on the marble floor by his side.

On one or two occasions also, Eki adjusted her mid-length skirt, peradventure that would knock off his furtive glances and make her feel at ease.
But her heart pounded softly still. Not with fear, but with curiosity. Eki was sure she met Reginald’s gaze more than thrice in the hall as she dutifully waltzed with practised gait from table to table to attend to guests as one of the many beautiful female ushers hired by the organisers for the event.

But, strangely, Reginald’s unspoken interest in her didn’t come off as intrusive or undressing as is typical of the lecherous ogles of a paedophile. His gazes were at once polite and assured.

As the event wind down to a close and guests began to trickle out of the hall, wheeling away in taxis and private vehicles and into the embrace of the night, Eki anticipated. She dawdled and twiddled and adjusted her skirt a couple more times in a darkened corner of the parking lot - although she could hardly say why.

“Hey lass, got a little spare time to lend a helping hand?” A deep, soothing voice pierced the stillness of the night for Eki and calmed the clutter of her mind.

It was Reginald a short distance away. He was packing his briefcase and a few other small bags into the opened boot of his metallic Mercedes A Benz Sedan. His driver had already started the car and revved the engine.

“I’m not an escort. Just an event usher.,” Eki answered tersely.

Reginald chuckled. “I know. I can tell,” he said.

His reply warmed Eki’s heart and she loosened up.

“My name is Reginald,” he said, holding out his hand to Eki for a handshake. Eki shook his hand after a little hesitation. Reginald removed his suit and tuxedo and flung them on the floor of the car. Then he sunk his bottom on one side of the backseat and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, letting out a loud heave.

“Five Fingers Hotel - just a few hundred metres from here. Would you care to join me on the trip? I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” He held out an inviting hand to Eki again and flashed a wide grin.

Eki returned a coy smile and sashayed to the other side of the backseat of the car. ‘Five Fingers’ was a popular four-star hotel in Victoria Island and Eki liked the sound of it.

Reginald continued as the car meandered out of the maze of the park and unto the wide and open road leading to their destination: “I’m lodging at the hotel tonight and tomorrow I’ll be off to Abuja for another important business meeting. Then in two day’s time, I should be flying to New York for… See, the important thing is, I really hope one of these coming engagements is cancelled or rescheduled or something. At this moment, that would feel like heaven. I’m bushed.”

Eki listened and said nothing, feigning half interest.

At 11 pm, vehicles on the beautiful and well-maintained six-lane Governor’s Road were sparse and the night was cold. Rather than switch on the car AC, Reginald instructed the driver to wind down the side glasses slightly for a change. It felt tranquil as gusts of rushing wind brushed against their faces.

“Eki.”

“Eh?”

“My name is Eki. I didn’t give you my name earlier, remember?” She loosened the top two buttons of her shirt, exposing her cleavage.

“Oh, yes, of course. Eki. Short, crisp, beautiful African name. I love it!” Reginald said casually, his gaze momentarily fixed on some details on his phone.

“Thanks,” Eki replied and hesitated. “So, you could tell, eh? That I wasn’t an escort? Yet, here you are asking me to keep you company for the night.”

Reginald chuckled again in that queer and disarming way. “And yet, here you are too, obliging me.”

He looked up finally from his phone and switched to a more serious tone. “But, then, again, I didn’t mean ‘company’ in the way you are implying it.” He made a quotation sign as he spoke.

The side of his eye caught Eki’s now exposed cleavage and he gently turned his face to look at her square in the face. “I’m honest. I just wanted a ‘company’ in the true sense of the word. No implied meaning whatsoever. They say there's no virgin in a maternity ward. But that’s not always true. I asked you because I could tell you are different.”

Eki grunted inaudibly, and shyly and quickly fastened the lower piece of the loose buttons and adjusted on her seat clumsily. She wasn’t quite sure what to say or think or even feel. What a jarring surprise! It’s just as they say: To every rule, there’s an exception. And to every man….

...But still, isn’t it a wonder? Eki mused. Almost all of her adult life, she’s been forced to learn a few rules of the street on survival and living the dream of her childhood - except her old prim and proper teenage self wouldn’t have been proud of her. The irony!

Perhaps one of the most golden of the rules is that: ‘You use what you have to get what you desire.’ On the streets, there are no exceptions, no fences, no form to this rule. It needs to be swallowed hook, line and sinker by adherents. Mr Sunny, a notoriously randy lecturer drove it home for her five years ago at the University of Benin during her final year in the institution.

Although he was married, Sunny never hid his amorous interest in her; even sending coursemates to her privately to try to persuade her and going as far as making light jokes about it in class. The students would roar with laughter and Eki would swallow hard in bemusement.

Eki didn’t think much of it until her final paper in Public Administration, Sunny’s course. Eki went to see Sunny in his office a day after the examination.

“I don’t understand this score, sir. How can I score this low when I studied hard, was always attentive in class and understand the subject well? And to be sure, I crosschecked it with the result of some of my coursemates and they had generously higher scores than me even though they provided fewer answers and points.”

“Really?” Sunny replied nonchalantly, threw his feet on the table, crossed them and reclined on his swivelling chair.

Eki waited for him to explain a few things to her or to say something else… anything sensible. But he didn’t. In fact, he said nothing. He only regarded her lustfully with a hint of disdain and a wicked grin at the corner of his mouth.

“Sir, what are you going to do?” Eki tried to nudge him.

“You know what to do,” he said.

“I’m not sure I do, sir.”

“Ask around then.”

“Where?”

“On the street.”

Of course, Eki knew what Sunny meant but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She had worked hard since her first year in school to graduate with at least a two-point-one or upper second class grade and she was on course with that goal until now. Her incredibly low score in Sunny’s course meant she dropped to a two-point-two or lower second class grade by just a few points.

Sunny had obviously done some background checks on her current school grades and concluded she would yield to his desires with a little arm-twisting. But Eki didn’t and so, a couple of months later, she graduated from the university with a second class lower degree. She contemplated making a report to the dean but some of her coursemates advised that it would be a futile effort.

It was a dent that went on to haunt her job-hunting efforts after graduation for a long time as she fell short of the grade requirement of one blue-chip firm after another, even when she passed the interviews.

It got more depressing for her when she noticed some of her classmates who had exchanged sex or money for results, back in their undergraduate years, got those jobs. So, a sad truth dawned on her: Everyone judges a book by its cover; or, in this case, firms judge a graduate first by the grade of the certificate. It didn’t matter that unscrupulous lecturers take advantage of that requirement to satisfy their selfish desires.

When she finally settled for a casual job with an ushering firm two months ago, she decided to try to flow with the street rules. After all, she had seen some of her colleagues let their hair down and act as Follows to men of means at the end of high-profile events and with expensive gifts and plenty of cash as rewards to show for it.

Perhaps Reginald… He looked like a true gentleman as he had promised. Perhaps he could be her first client. She giggled at the thought.
“We are here,” Reginald’s resonating voice punctured Eki’s reverie and she started.

The driver had parked in an exclusive space on the hotel premises. Two male attendants hurried up to the car. One opened the backdoors for Eki and Reginald to step out and the other busied himself with fetching the bags and briefcase in the car boot and taking them to Reginald’s hotel room ahead of him. Eki was intrigued.

As they walked together to the elevator, Eki observed that nearly all of the hotel staff greeted Reginald with deference. “You must be one of the hotel’s regular clients with a premium suite,” she teased. “They probably are mistaking you for Reginald Ashionye. You know, the Reginald of Five Fingers.”

Reginald grinned. “So why are you working as an usher?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you I could tell.”

“Yes, you could tell I wasn’t an escort, not an usher…” Eki protested in a low voice. She was quietly aggravated.

“True. But also as an usher. I could tell it went against the grain for you. It was kind of infra dig. I’m an experienced man.”

Oh yeah, how about adding ‘and judge of the supreme court?’ What cheekiness! Eki steamed inwardly. She was almost tempted to go on a rant, but her short training as an usher kicked in and she beamed a plastic smile instead.

“Five fingers,” Eki said finally.

“Uh, the hotel?” Reginald raised his brows and, for the first time, Eki eyeballed him.

“No, I mean my fingers. Your fingers. Everyone’s fingers.” She playfully spread her fingers in front of her, turning her widened hands from side to side. “See? They are not equal.”

“Oh, I see what you mean,” Reginald said again casually.

They got to his premium suite and Reginald opened the door. Eki was flummoxed. As an usher, she was used to luxurious events and places, but Reginald’s suite topped them all.

Reginald sunk on a seat and poured some drink into two thick glass cups for himself and Eki. “Your certificate doesn’t reflect your true abilities and has, thus, limited opportunities for you?” he said.

Eki took the glass of wine and sat on the opposite couch, too dazed to speak just yet. He indeed was an experienced man. Or wait… maybe a psychic? How did he know? Or was she sleep talking all the while she thought she was reminiscing?

“Yes…yes,” Eki stammered. “I’m bewildered you knew.”

Reginald dialled a number on a special hotel room phone at a corner of the wall. He spoke briefly with the receiver and dropped the call at the end of the conversation. “I am Reginald Ashionye. I just called the head of HR. We recently got an opening for the head of protocol and I think you should fit in well. I’ve seen it in you. He’ll be here in a minute.”

Eki gaped and almost dropped the wineglass in her hand.

“I think you’ll like this ‘Five Fingers’ a lot better,” Reginald teased her back, spreading his fingers and turning his hand from side to side.