+TYPED OUT-

+HOME-

Mondays' flight landed, and she took a Uber home. She opened the door to find Luce hanging decorations.

"Tu fais quoi là haut? [What are you doing up there?]."

"Wow, wow, Monday, tiens là vite, [hold it, quick]."

Monday rushed to hold the ladder.

"What are you doing here? You scared the shit out of me," screamed Luce, "I expected you here at ten."

"Don't tell me you were decorating for me?" Monday said as she held the ladder while her cousin stepped down.

"No, I was doing it for Micheal B. Jordan. Who do you think I was risking my life for on that ladder."

"Oh, Luce, ma Cherie, I didn't win anything," Monday said and hugged her cousin.

"Nooo, sorry, babes," Luce hugged Monday back before adding, "I hope you brought back something for me."

Monday let go, backed away, lowered her gaze, and shook her head in disapproval to see how her cousin quickly forgot her misfortune, "huh," she clapped in her hands and handed Luce tax-free items she brought before going through customs.

"Aww, La Prairie, Monday, this costs a fortune even with the tax-free."

Luce was thirty-seven and stressed about aging. Like Monday, she was single and felt she missed the love bus. Thus Luce tried any anti-aging product to level up. The nurse was a true beauty for Monday, and she didn't know the quality could be a curse. 

Unlike her, Luce had the figure and face. Monday called her the Naija Ciara. Luce had thin facial traits, but above all, she possessed that mad hourglass figure. In Mondays' opinion, men were scared to approach her cousin because she was too pretty and looked unattainable.

Desperate, Luce turned to the divine and began to attend Sunday service in the local church. She met the man of her dreams, but unfortunately, he was married to God.

Monday didn't dare tease; her cousin suffered. Pastor Jacob Lennox only lived to help others and had no intention of dedicating himself to one person.

Sounds familiar?

"So tell me about this fair," Luce said as she sat down to do an inventory of the products Monday got her.

"Luce, I messed up."

Her cousin frowned, "what I you talking about?"

"I met someone."

Luces' eyes grew wide, "what, who, where, and how?"

"No, it's not what you think. It's the worst thing ever."

The woman frowned, "what do you mean?"

Monday began to explain, and Luce listened. As soon as Monday stopped talking, the questioning began.

"The first time you met him was at your booth, right?"

"Not, exactly; he didn't speak to me then, and I doubt he even noticed me," Monday replied.

"When did he speak to you then?"

"I told you, at the bar."

Luce frowned, "but you said you're the one who asked about the sandwich."

"Yes, but he's the one who asked me to come to his conference. Kenneth also came to find me at the cocktail. He caught up to me on the street, and it was he who invited me to his suite," Monday said while enumerating on her figures.

The more she spoke, the more she recognized it was not a fateful encounter but the story of a man trying to get his way with her.

"So the guy came to you, ehen?"