A Very Sticky Situation (Completed)

20: Mistake

Ana's POV

"Thank you," I say to the driver the instant he stops us at the garage of the hotel.

"You are welcome," he nods as Ike is about to hand him the cash.

"Nope," I utter, slapping his arm. "I'll pay."

"Babe it's double the price," he defends, cocking his head in my location.

"And you paid 30,000Naira for today's treat, so let me," I argue.

"But you don't see me complaining," he contests, channeling a stare at the man gawking at us from the driver's seat. "Oga, tell me, am I?"

"I know. Just let me do this please," I beg, in a mushy voice.

"Fine," he groans in defeat. "Pay him."

"How much is your charge again?" I ask the driver while grinning.

"Two thousand naira ma'am," he responds and I shuffle through my purse to hand him the money. "Bye,"

"You did well man," Ike pats him on the shoulder as we exit.

"What was that?" I implore, gazing back at the swerving car.

"What was what?" He lends me a glimpse in inquiry.

"Forget it," I shake my head, suddenly feeling dumb at the silly question.

"No you can tell me," he murmurs.

"Nothing, I just realized how stupid that question was. It's okay," I smile in assurance.

"If you say so," he utters and I focus on my surroundings, taking note of the fact that we were stopped in a private garage hence I can hear the bustling of music and noise coming from the environment.

"How did we?" I quiz in shock not knowing how to complete the sentence.

"That was the reason I gave him a pat on the shoulder for a job well done," he confesses and I cough in surprise.

"Damn!" I clamor, realizing the question I had in mind wasn't stupid after all.

"Let's proceed," he suggests and leads me to a secluded door. Fishing out a key, he unlocks it and shoves it open.

"The perks of being the owner I see," I murmur as we reach a lift hidden away from the customers.

"You can say that," he concedes and we step in. I don't respond as he clicks a number and we go up to the inserted floor.

"Why is the place so crowded?" I raise a question, recalling the vast amount of cars we passed at the entrance, and also judging by the vibrations seeping through the metal of the elevator, something must be going on.

"Firstly it's a Saturday night so clubbing, partying, meetings, and the rest are taking place," he explains, ogling me from where he's standing. "The other reason is my father and his associates are in town."

"Shit!" I exclaim, "why didn't you tell me?"

"There was no reason to," he shrugs. "If not for the situation at hand you'll be home by now and I'll be in another one of my hotels, or even any other hotel for that matter," he continues, gritting his teeth in like irritation.

"You still haven't told me the reason you hate your father," I murmur timidly, in slight fear of his reaction.

"There isn't a reason," he expresses to my astonishment hence I am wrong in assuming. "There are numerous reasons. Also, he isn't my father."

"What do you mean?" I interrogate in mystery from his confusing words.

"Why don't we skip this topic?" He invites as the doors click open.