Ex Gratia (#1 EX TRILOGY)

Chapter 1

The restaurant located at the corner of the deserted street that evening was buzzing with people as usual. It was raining heavily and most of the people who had walked in were forced to order something in order to take refuge in the warm room. The waiter who stood at the entrance to hold the door open for clients was grudgingly wiping the muddy footprints off the tiled floor, grumbling to himself about working tirelessly for months on low salary. Just before he could turn around to return the mop to its place in the corner near the counter, the doors flew open and a gentleman hurriedly walked in dripping with rainwater onto the floor. The waiter let out a grunt and dropped the mop in exasperation. The gentleman glanced at him and walked past him without an apology.

"Ah, akoa wei ɔnkɔ asɔre anaa?''  ("Ah, doesn't this fella go to church?") he muttered and mopped the floor again in anger.

The gentleman took off his drenched jacket and hung it over one of the chairs nearby, but just when he was about to turn around in search of a waiter nearby, his eyes caught sight of a 'lonely' woman seated near the wall five tables away. He could only see her back, and her hair was dark, spiky and short. She was dark skinned, dressed in a blue blouse over a peach pair of trousers and nude wedges and appeared to be attractive even from behind. The gentleman narrowed his eyes and stared, and just then he sensed the typical manly temptation to want to find his way onto the other side to determine the face bearing that 'glorious body' of an African lady. He quickly fished his peppermint mouth spray out of his breast pocket, sprayed two shots into his mouth, picked up his jacket and strutted towards her beaming with confidence.

" This is my lucky day," he whispered to himself as he rubbed his palms in earnest expectation. "The rainy day has to serve its purpose, by all -"

Splash!

A waiter accidentally bumped into him and spilled wine from a glass on a tray onto his white shirt - the only part of his clothes that was not too wet from the rain. The gentleman frowned at the waiter and clenched his fist threateningly, but upon remembering what he was going for, he simply sighed and walked on as if nothing had happened, but he carefully slid his jacket back on to hide the stain without minding the discomfort in wearing a drenched jacket. As soon as he reached the lady's table, the lady put up a hand and wagged a thin index finger with a ring on it. The gentleman stopped in his tracks.

"No. Don't come any closer," the lady said quickly. The gentleman snorted and reached for a chair, but the lady quickly grabbed a fork, making the gentleman's stomach churn. He held his breath and stared at the fork in her hand. To his surprise, he watched her slowly picking a piece of carrot from her plate and pulling it into her mouth with her white teeth. The gentleman finally saw her face and raised an eyebrow. Her eyes were brown and clear, and her lips were round with a lining around it that gave them a pretty conspicuousness. There was a cleft in her chin and these admirable deep horizontal neck lines on her long neck.

"OK. You nearly scared me," the gentleman chuckled and sat slowly by her. She smiled and cocked her head without looking at him. The gentleman felt the smile was a welcoming start and took a deep breath. "Hi. My name's -"

"Of course I know who you are," the lady interrupted and smacked her lips. "I've seen you before."

The gentleman nodded his head slowly and tried recalling where they ever met. "I don't think I've seen you before. What's your name?"

"You sure you want to know that too?"

"Well - once you think you know me, it's proper that I know you too, don't you think?"

The lady crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. She kept looking at the wall and not him. "I see. Come to think of it, do you find me attractive?"

The gentleman grinned. "Of course, I do. I think you look ravishing. Should I say more?"

The lady nodded and checked her wristwatch. "Go on," she said.

"Well, I think I like your hair and your neck lines. Well, I like neck lines. I like women with neck lines, actually. I think it's something that's magical and pleasing to look at. Beautiful genetics. Yeah. I find it - um - ". Just then, he started to feel he was two minutes away from messing up really badly, so he attempted to resort to something else that would catch the lady's attention: he took out his iPhone 7 and started to surf idly. The lady turned to look at him and stared.

'Bingo,' he thought. 'Materialism. It worked. It always does.'

The lady pursed her lips and looked away again to his disappointment.

"It's an iPhone 7," he growled and held the phone up to show her the model name at the back. "I ordered it from -"

"Can you help me with something, please?"

The gentleman raised his eyebrows. The words came out really impolitely despite the use of 'please', but the gentleman was blindly inclined to play hero and ladies' man there and then. "Oh sure, sure. Anything for you, m'lady. Pretty lady."

The lady smirked. "Anything?" The gentleman nodded gleefully. The lady shrugged and turned her head to the right and pointed to a Bluetooth headset on her left ear. "I'm on the phone with a new friend. Can you excuse us for a moment, please?" She grinned and winked. "Thanks."

The gentleman bit his lip and slowly rose to his feet. He stared down at her for a moment, wondering what to do next. The lady turned her head and continued with her conversation without a sense of concern for the gentleman's feelings.

"Uh-huh, you were saying?" She paused and glanced at the man. "Oh that? Don't worry. It's just a man drenched in rain. He must have felt I was a fireplace he could get warmth from. It's a sad scene. You should see him. Ouch." She shrugged and turned away. "Yes, about that incident that occurred the other time..."

The gentleman walked away quickly and went to stand by the counter as though intentionally watching the football match on the plasma TV. He turned to look at the lady again and felt disappointed for how he was treated. He hissed at the waiter standing behind the counter and beckoned to him to lean closer.

"Who's she? You know her?" he asked.

The waiter nodded. "She is a regular client. You are the only one who's lasted long with her. Good job." He snorted and walked away.

The gentleman pursed his lips and scratched his goatee.

He had not been the only victim that day - obviously. Rejections, humiliation, declines and disregard - these were the usual issues you would encounter with the lady named Akoma.