Ace of Spades ✅

8; Beer, and bruised egos.

A Random Hangout, Abuja.

Rukayya stepped into the hangout in strides that one might mistake as a calculated one. She came to a halt after a few steps into it, her head swiveling as she tried to locate her partner, or more like, partners for the night.

When her gaze fell on the table of four, she blinked, clicking her tongue slightly as her expression morphed into a blank one. It was truly no different from the one she had when she arrived, she just did well to hide her irk towards being called out on a night she hoped to be free and away from those bunch of testosterone.

Apparently, she wouldn't get her wish answered-because as if feeling a gaze in that direction, one of the two males already present looked up-his eyes meeting hers. Isaac raised his hand up, and gestured for her to head over there.

She held his gaze for a few seconds more, as if weighing her options to see which is better-to turn around and ditch them at the last minute, or suck it up and just meet them since she's already there.

A sigh left past her slightly parted lips as she made up her mind; her feet carrying her over to the table. From what she could see, there were only a small number of people in the hangout, all with reasonable distance separating them. It gave enough privacy to talk about whatever one wants to without worrying about someone overhearing them.

She knew without a doubt that has to be the reason why they chose to go there of all places.

On reaching the table where the two others are, she dropped her bag on the table and settled on the chair beside one of them, crossing her legs in the process-her back leaned on the chair and her shoulders squared. Even in a sitting position, in a place that's meant for people to unwind, she still was adamant on holding up her strong image.

She worked too hard to get it, and she wasn't willing to let it go any time soon, if ever really.

"What's this about?" She breathed out, her gaze fixed on Isaac who sat opposite her.

The addressed man was seated with his back hunched forward, and holding what seemed to be a glass of beer in his hand. Swirling the tumbler, the liquid moved along with the ice there, the precipice from the cold coating the cup.

When he didn't give her a reply, she shifted her gaze to the man seated on the chair beside her. "Nameer?" She prodded, despite knowing she would hardly get one from him as well. She was better off taking her chances with Isaac than with him.

Nameer who was leaned back on his chair as well, legs spread apart slightly flicked his lazy, but cold eyes to her. He didn't say a thing, or make a move to do anything else-his expression did the talking. She was right, she wouldn't get anything out of him.

He made that official when he reached out his hand out to pick up a bottle of water that was on the table, and popping the cap open-his gaze no longer on either of the two.

"Who else?" Isaac finally spoke, lifting his gaze from the glass of beer to let it rest on the woman that has shifted her attention to him. When his eyes met hers, there was this look she had only seen a handful of times in it. "That criminal the Chief wants us to work with, of course."

Rukayya held his gaze for a few seconds, before she looked away for a brief second and shook her head lightly. "Don't tell me you were truly offended because a woman beat you." She rolled her eyes, sinking further in her seat. Her tone was laced with disbelief.

If that truly is it, then she wouldn't mind saying a few insulting words to his face. He never was a misogynist, so what changed now? Or was it because his ego was never bruised, and now that it has, he's showing his true color.