When you are asked about a man of propriety, it was easily CJ. A proper gentleman with a perfect gait and sterling smile. He could literally charm his way through any door be it a man or a woman who guarded it..
Thursday evening at work ended on a great note. The chairman of the board of directors had just announced that there would be an honorary group retreat to Tanzania in September and it would be for a trumping 3 weeks; the longest vacay ever at the firm and they could bring a plus one.
CJ saw the perfect opportunity to take Dele on a trip to an African country, of course, given their relationship would grow to that point. If he could just get selected as an honorary member. Fingers crossed.
After two cold beers at Cubana to pass time for the traffic on the highway to clear, he hit the road.
Got home early enough to catch shuteye and run the routine again.
It was supposed to be yet another Friday morning where he wakes up a little earlier than his alarm clock rings at 4:30 am, where he'd do 200 pushups and 100 squats before brushing his teeth, making the coffee and hitting the already teeming Lekki-Obalande road.
But it didn't happen like that.
At 5:00 am, just as he was finishing his last set of 20 reps of pushups, his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Clinton hesitated before picking up. He hated numbers he didn't know. He let it ring itself out.
Barely 3 push-ups into his continuance, that same number called again. It hung up quickly and then rang again.
'What is this?!'
'Hello?!' He picked up.
'CJ. It is time for that favor.'
YOU ARE READING
The Party on Abudu Smith Street
Misterio / SuspensoA story of four men who lived normal and turbulence-free lives until one complication that intertwined them in an utterly life-changing situation.
