“May I help you?”
“No... I‘m OK.” She stammered in uncertainty. His thick brows were raised and he must have known she was staring at him; he probably got that look from a lot of women.
“That doesn‘t seem to be case from where I‘m sitting.” His deep voice was mellow but his stare sharpened with suspicion as they went to her large box.
“Erm... I think I‘ve lost my way,” she burst out without much thought. She could have kicked herself. That sounded so lame and suspicious. Why couldn‘t she have thought of something that would make her not seem like a dim-witted character?
His eyebrows climbed his high forehead again. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” She caught the sympathetic eye of the driver through the front window. She pulled the tatters of her almost non-existent dignity and began again. “My aunt lives at...” She looked down at her journal,
stumbled over the address and continued. “This is my first visit and I may have taken a wrong turn as I walked...”
He scrutinized her for a few seconds and gestured towards the car. She didn‘t understand at first and stared at him till he repeated the motion.
“What? You want me to…”
“Get in.” He bent away and swung open the back passenger door on the far side.
“Why? Where do you want to take me?” Well no one could blame her for asking. She‘d heard so many scary things about Lagos, including about rich men who kidnapped ladies for rituals.
“Where else but to the address you gave me?” His snap dragged her out of her scattered thoughts. His driver chuckled but gave her an encouraging nod with another smile.
Gladys was a little hesitant; there was no hint of softening on his face. She glanced up at the two laborers who were still standing a few feet away. What a dilemma.
“Well you can just get me to the end of the road and point out the right direction...” He cut her off.
“I said we‘ll drive you there. Get in.” His terse voice ended the conversation. It was clear he had no time for chit-chat.
Another car honked behind his and the driver pulled over to make way, popping open the car trunk in the process. Gladys decided to trust him and stowed her luggage away. Rather him and the kind driver than those men who were still looking at her like bait to fish. She scrambled into the car with a mutter of reluctant thanks and the hope that it wasn‘t too far out of his way. She caught his gaze for a moment before she took in the total person. He was tall, and the suit he wore was impeccable. His cologne was light but musky still; it perfumed the interior of the car. It crept into her nostrils and raised images of both of them together, dressed for a night out.