Dive into the previous story now to discover the secrets that led to this suspenseful moment.
“Soli, I see you’ve already met Wendy, the lady I was telling you about,” Bryson exclaimed with genuine warmth in his voice. As he introduced us, his affection for Wairimu was palpable. I stood there momentarily puzzled, feeling like someone had snatched away a tantalizing piece of chicken from my grasp. It turned out Bryson had a date with Wairimu, who had her phone switched off when we met.
“Why don’t you call one of your friends? We have a better deal,” Bryson suggested, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Sure, why not? Wairimu has a beautiful voice,” I replied, trying to mask my confusion with a smile.
Summoning an Uber for the first time, I couldn’t help but revel in the idea of indulging in luxuries. After all, why not flaunt a bit of wealth when you had it? We arrived at a posh restaurant, where I slipped the bouncer a generous tip of 3000 kes, eager to ensure our safety.
“My friends are on their way,” Wairimu announced unexpectedly, catching me off guard. “Friends? I thought it was just supposed to be one lady,” I remarked, almost regretting my words as a bevy of stunning women joined us. It felt like I was suddenly thrust into a fashion show, and I, unprepared, was meant to play the role of the judge. Suddenly, I understood why the rich always seemed so content.
“Order refreshments, ladies; we have a millionaire in the house,” Bryson declared, breaking his silence since our Uber ride. My heart quickened its pace — what if we exceeded our budget? I signaled Bryson for an impromptu meeting. “Hey, how much do you have on you?” I inquired anxiously.
“I thought you were covering everything,” he responded casually. “I only have 1000 kes left, and the ladies seem to be multiplying, along with the bill. We’re practically feeding a small village here,” I protested, feeling the weight of impending financial doom.
But Bryson, always resourceful, came to the rescue. He proposed a betting game, with odds that could potentially turn our luck around. With a meager stake of 100 kes, the potential winnings were staggering — 100,000 kes. It was a gamble I couldn’t resist, staking my last 1030 kes on the bet and leaving myself with nothing.
Returning to the table, the ladies greeted us with delight. “Is everything alright?” one of them asked, her tone bordering on condescending as she ordered more drinks. Despite her rudeness, I couldn’t help but revel in the fantasy of being a millionaire.
When the waitress handed me the bill, my heart sank. “I’ll pay with Mpesa,” I announced confidently, only for my phone to die at that precise moment.
“Allow us to charge it for you,” the waitress offered kindly, as the number of people at our table inexplicably dwindled. Bryson was nowhere to be seen, leaving me surrounded by a formidable bouncer…
