WHEN Es & Em’s manager seemed not to get their situation, she asked at last.
‘Is there anything wrong with the parcel, Vickie? Does it come from someone you don’t like?’
The words jolted the lady back to life. She was a strong, confident woman, but that piece of harassment didn’t meet her well.
So when Vickie talked up at long last, even Nile doffed a hat for her.
‘It’s nothing that serious,’ she said. ‘I think I just discovered I don’t like purple and violet… and blue, and white!’
Both listeners turned to note the colours in the flowers.
‘But they’re very cool colours, my dear!’ Samba was amazed at Vickie’s reason.
‘That combination of colours, ma’am! I suddenly dislike them.’
Vickie’s words made the older lady stand up straight. She gazed at the stout looking queen and knew she shouldn’t pester more.
So she was less surprised when the girl said this, smiling:
‘You can dispose the thing quietly. We shouldn’t let news be talking flowers like it’s music. Or what d’ you think?’
Samba acquiesced. ‘Oh yeah, I get it.’
Vickie Williams went that whole length with the flowers and the note, but it wasn’t for her safety or health that she cared so much.
It was rather for her lifelong crush. It was for Nile that she hid things.
So that moment, their manager deferred telling them about the call.
She moved to pack the trash instead and get their van. Then Nile found his phone and something more.
‘Hey Ms George, did I by chance leave my phone with you?’
‘Yes you did, both of you. And here you go, dear.’
Samba gave them their phones and left. She’d kept their call devices.
But now as Nile sat back and turned it on, he got a text message from an unknown sender.
The message went in 3 words, Be my man—yet there was no name.
He deleted it at once as he thought his girl might misunderstand.
He never thought the birds of prey wanted this.
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