Resurgence

9. Joy Ride

“Love doesn’t make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride, worthwhile.” – Franklin P. Jones.

•••

“Welcome to my world!” Lani announced in glee to Tari, as they stepped through the glass sliding doors with the rest of her team members trailing behind excitedly. Her mood had taken a detour from a slightly hostile one earlier, to a highly ebullient one as characterized by her face―which was currently a firework of smiles. She seemed invigorated by the atmosphere, and he could sense that her elated mood was constant irrespective of the frequency of visits to the mall. The magic simply didn’t dampen as a result of familiarity.

And it was definitely not going to go sour now.

“Wow,” Tari’s words fell off his lips, with a heavy breath he seemed to have been holding in. His wide eyes toured the entire scene, taking every bit of view in. They were currently in a narrow receptive lounge. The walls were decorated with grey and black exposed bricks, complimentary of the front gargantuan desk, which was coated in brown mahogany―exuding a smooth, glimmering surface that made him want to run his hand through it. The first person in the trio of people behind the desk, a middle aged, fair woman in a grey blazer and oversized glasses―that made him wonder if it was actually hers―beamed at them, her focus on Lani.

“Welcome, Miss Olaere. It’s been a while.” She greeted, and Lani bowed curtly and flashed a polite smile. “We were wondering when next you were going to pay us a visit with your friends.” She gestured towards the others with a brief glance. “Business has been tough lately, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, well you could say that, Toria.” Lani replied. “Contracts aren’t as forthcoming as they were before, but this current one is quite big and equates to like three of what I usually get before―so well, sulking and complaining isn’t exactly a grateful thing to do. I just have to be positive at all times. How’s everyone doing?”

“We’re all hanging in here,” Toria placed both of her hands on the counter, and leaned forward to whisper. “New boss is a piece of work. Always making the rounds, walking up and down with a whistle in her mouth, can you believe that? If she sees something she doesn’t like, she’d blow the whistle. What does she think she is? A vigilante roaming the night Nigerian streets? I just don’t get it. Anyhoo, this is me warning you so you don’t get startled if all of a sudden you hear a very loud whistle inside.”

Tari found the persona of this boss very odd, but then he could say the same thing about a receptionist that was swift to divulge information of such implicative nature to a customer who was accompanied by a stranger. If he was a sadist who was also self righteous, he would go on to find the boss in the analogy and rat out the crime of the receptionist, straight away. It wouldn’t exactly make him a good person, but it didn’t make him a bad one either.

“There is truly nothing new under the sun and even inside the building under it too.” Lani exclaimed, clapping her hands in unbelief. “See, let’s be going jare. We have a lot of work to do. The house we’re modeling is a very big one, with many rooms. That means we’d be buying a lot of stuff.”

“Alrighty then, you go on straight away.” Toria’s gaze shifted to Tari momentarily. “New member of your team?”

“No, actually he isn’t.” Lani shook her head, throwing him a cursory look as if someone else could have replaced him where he stood. “Actually he is the architect of the house in question and he is very particular about every single detail of the house, so we’re carrying him along―which is ironic, because he forced his way into our meeting. One would think he doubts my taste.”

“Impossible,” Toria recoiled with a bewildered expression, as though Lani had announced to her, that it was now possible for rats to birth humans. “Lani is one of the most brilliant modelers that I know. How do I know this?” Her gaze was on him now. “She comes in at least five or six times every year, on a new project. So obviously, you know that she gets a lot of contracts because her work is speaking for her. Because of the nature of my job here, I know the identity of virtually everyone that steps through our doors and I’d tell you most are designers like her and they don’t come in as frequent as she does. So when my girl tells you she has it in control, you better believe her because it’s the damn truth.”