LOVE BINDS. PART FIVE. I: WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER.

She’s so beautiful.

That phrase, whether it was an epiphany…revelation, it kept on ringing in my head like a catchy hook to a song you have no business knowing, let alone liking ­– Kwe kwe , oh I mean, Work by Rihanna came to mind. It was playing at every corner and Bison wasn’t there to dissect the album with me. We had been waiting anxiously for it, we were going to sit in the living room and tear it apart. Bison hadn’t stepped a foot in my yard or picked up my call in months after my Livingstone incident. I filled up my days with my new job, whiskey with the guys and noise but it wasn’t the same and none of them were Bison.

She was beautiful, M. Bison. My hommie.

I shook my head before casting one last stolen glance at her. She was smiling, her big, careless smile, as her mouth extend to the edges of her face, carefully tagging at the recesses of her eyes—thinning them and making her look like she was drowsy. Bison was as tough as nails; an unreadable, impenetrable fortress of fortified emotions. But when she smiled like that, it was an act similar to giving off her virginity. She was vulnerable, letting you in…I should have been the one seated across from her—not that chauvinistic, cheap cologne wearing, dressed like a formal desk pushing idiot. She laughed excessively at something he said and fluidly flung a hand over his.

My hands settled into fists.

“Shit!” I said more loudly than I intended.

I got the attention of a few bystanders who evaluated me for a few seconds before resolving that I wasn’t worth the attention and moving on. Lusaka. You just got to mind your own business. I gave up. At least I deceived myself that I did. I walked passed the restaurant and stood by the cinema. Looking at my watch, it was 7:30pm. The movie was about to start…where was this girl?

On cue, Angel Kimbels, or as we liked to call her Dirty Angel, appeared. She was some sort of second generation biracial chick. Her grandfather was white, that’s what she led us to believe, anyway. Whatever white blood was in her system was well diluted. She looked as pure breed African as the rest of us.

“E, baby!” she said. Her hips swinging like they were in a war with the air around them and winning. Her tight dressed amplified her enormous breasts, and the slit south of her waist, exposed enough flesh of thighs whose sight would instantaneously increase the sperm count of even the most infertile of men.

“Ishmael ain’t that many syllables, ya know?”

She smiled, her big eyes focused on me, entrancing and salacious. “I’m special, E. So I got to give you a special name.”

“Letter E, is a letter, not a name.”

She, on the verge of hugging me, paused, rested her hands on her hips and gave me a look that would freeze hell so badly it probably would have to be shut down and the devil settle for a retirement package.

“You bastard. You called me…after ditching me and not talking to me for a year. Now, your punk ass wanna give me attitude. Kolwe iwe!” She turned and walked a few paces when I caught her arm.

“Angel, I didn’t mean that baby. I was just having a lousy year, I even left the country. You know I love you!” I pulled her to me. “Come here, baby.” I hugged her. Then kissed her. Her hand traced my rugged jaw-line before resting on my cheek. She tagged at my lower lip before pulling away slowly. Opening her big, sensual eyes, and making excitement soar through me.

“Don’t you wanna grab my butt, baby?” She said.

My hand, reaching for her rear very inelegantly, was my response. Angel had a fine behind, and she knew it. And she worshipped it. Her Instagram and Facebook was littered with photos of her twisting and turning in the most industrious of ways to showcase her booty. Angel knew I left the country and she was the type to agree to a date for that reason. She wasn’t pretty or beautiful by any stretch but she was sexy. And tonight, sexy is what I needed. We kissed for as long as was allowed without attracting undue attention from non-consenting individuals from my largely conservative Zambia.

“Let’s see that movie, E.”

I thought about it for a while. “Why don’t we skip the movie and do dinner instead.”

She smiled. “Ok.”

We moved a few paces to the classy, recently opened restaurant. I purposefully ensured that we passed the table where M. Bison and Kachiz sat, making sure that my hommie caught a perfect view of just how voluptuous my date was. While I made sure I didn’t look at her directly, I caught a tinge of jealously in her eyes. And if that was all I got, I would be content. Call it being childish, I called it making a statement. She made me growl like a dog in Livingstone over a minor misunderstanding and still ditched me. Regina wasn’t an issue, we both knew that and yet she still ditched me.

“Oh, E, this place is so amazing,” Angel said as we sat down at the table.

Indeed it was. A fountain, a live band that could really play their instruments well, a lavish arrangement of roses and waiters and waitresses dressed so immaculately they could dabble as Gucci brand ambassadors.

“Let’s eat.”

That statement threw me off. The place was indeed posh, I assumed it was pretty expensive as well. Maybe I was just being paranoid.

“Why don’t we just order drinks first?”

But my words fell on deaf ears. Angel already called a waiter and started spewing demands like she owned the place. Her pronunciation of exotic cuisines was impeccable, or that’s the way it sounded.

“Have you been here before?”

She smiled. “No, but I have always wanted to. I researched them. I know their menu by heart. A girl has to dream, tefyo?”

“Eh, iwe. Can I have one of the names of the things you ordered?”

“Well, I ordered two Pizza Margheritas, the Choucroute Garnie, the Matelote, the Swiss cake, and some 1875 wine.”

I looked through the menu, did the arithmetic and it totalled out to about K2, 500. I suddenly felt sick. At the corner of my eye M. Bison, still looking ravishing, and Kachiz with no steez (corny, I know) got up and started heading for the Manda Hill up-stair parking lot.

“Hey, Angel, you look beautiful.”

Angel smiled big. “Aww, E.”

“Tonight is your night okay. We gonna spoil you.”

She smiled so hard I was almost sure she was going to tear every muscle in her face and break her face - if it was possible. She reached for my hand and squeezed it lightly. “And tonight, I’m gonna spoil you too back at my place. Any position you want, anywhere you want it.”

My blood simmered hot, my pupils dilated, and I shivered so savagely with lust and for a few seconds I was immobile. Booty call!!!

K2, 500!!!

That instantly killed my libido. No way was I going to spend an amount equivalent to people’s rent money just to get laid.

“I will be right back baby, just need to use the bathroom.”

“You’re heaven sent, bae.”

The statement made me remember Mwiinga and God…did I even believe in God? Did I even want to?

I got up, headed to the direction of the bathroom, satisfied that I was out of Angel’s sight I changed course and followed Kachiz with no steez (Don’t care what you think, we sticking with that) and Bison to the parking lot. I felt naughty! It was time to cause a lil bit of some havoc.