Dinner with a jerk

“Hook me up with business from your people and I can give you a small percentage on the side. And maybe I can also hook you up with a few other extra, eh… privileges, you know what I mean?” He makes that last point with his eyes firmly pointed at my chest. ILLUSTRATION | JOSEPH NGARI

Jason swaggers up to me and Chris with a naughty but triumphant twinkle in his eye. I can tell he is revelling in being able to ‘one-up’ Chris by being the one who gets the girl… except that this fight has almost nothing to do with me, and everything to do with these two alpha male egos. “This is just like old times, you know. Me and you fighting over a girl’s attentions.” Then he extends a hand for a shake. “Good to have you back though, my guy,” he grins widely.

Chris’ jaw tightens and I hold my breath, waiting for the situation to explode. Instead, he reaches out and takes Jason’s hand. But he does not offer an accompanying smile.

“Enjoy your evening,” he says, then he spins on his heel and walks back towards his office. I watch his retreating back for a few seconds, then spin on my heel towards Jason.

“That was NOT right,” I fume. “Why are you taunting him like that?”

Jason stands there, rocking on his feet, the pleasure of getting one up over Chris clearly going to his head. “Listen, shall we go now?” he turns to me and says patronisingly. I narrow my eyes and thank the heavens above that I don’t have to deal with him on a daily basis otherwise I think I might have gone mad by now.

We are silent on the drive through traffic all the way to the restaurant that Jason has chosen for us, a lovely little garden place in Kilimani where the first thing he does when we settle down is order a double shot of expensive whisky.

“So what have you been up to, dear Lizzie?” Jason leans back in his chair and asks me. I grit my teeth. I hate being called ‘Lizzie’. I distinctly remember telling him that a long time ago in one of our earliest interactions. I guess he either didn’t take it to heart or he didn’t hear me when I said it.

ROVING EYE

“Work. The usual,” I shrug.

“Heh, that former boss of yours though,” he smirks. “She was a piece of work. I’m happy she’s gone. But kwani what happened to force her exit like that?”

I shrug again. “Nothing much. I guess she had emergency issues she needed to deal with.”

“Emergency issues?!” he laughs out loud. “You forget that I read everything the blogs wrote. Is it true you were trying to steal her man?”

I blush deep red. I had forgotten that the entire sorry saga is on the Internet for anyone who cares to see for themselves. “Look, it’s a long story and I really don’t want to talk about work right now. But tell me about you! How have you been?” There’s a false brightness to the tone of my voice, but I know that Jason is way too self-absorbed to hear it.

As a matter of fact, as I ask him my question, his eyes are roaming our surroundings, sending me the message that I don’t exist. I watch his as his eyeballs alight and fix on an object of interest. I look over my shoulder to see what it is, and find myself staring at the ample backside of beweaved woman in a tight dress walking past our table. His eyes follow her backside all the way to her table, where she is seated with a much older man. Probably her sponsor.

When Jason has had his fill, he turns back to me. Even though he has caught me catching him in the act, he makes no apologies and does not even pretend that he was not listening to me.

“You Nai chicks these days, do you buy those asses or what?!” he smirks, then he punches my shoulder in a friendly manner. I feel like his bro, not his date. Thankfully, despite his severe tone deafness, Jason catches the look on my face and the smile disappears from his.

“Yea, you were asking?” he says.

“How you are,” I reply.

“I’ve been good, I mean you know how biashara is.”

“No, I don’t,” I say quite seriously.

“It’s up, it’s down, it’s all those things. So? Si you and I hook up and do a little sum’n sum’n?”

“I have no idea what that means,” I raise an eyebrow.

“But you, you need to think like a hustler,” he says. Thankfully, our waiter delivers his whisky and my wine, giving me pause to compose myself because I am this close to smacking Jason.

“Hook me up with business from your people and I can give you a small percentage on the side. And maybe I can also hook you up with a few other extra, eh… privileges, you know what I mean?” He makes that last point with his eyes firmly pointed at my chest.

And right at that point, I decide that I have had enough.