Chapter 197: Chapter 197
Chapter 197
~Mr. Coleman meets Ella
Ella was humming a Spanish rock star tune under the shower when she heard the door bell ring repeatedly.
“Whosoever it is you are had better wait. Big mama is bathing,” she said within herself, swirled her head under the shower and continued humming her Spanish rock star tune. She only noticed the door bell had stopped ringing and it was either the visitor had gone or had given up pressing the bell and decide to wait. When she came out of the shower, and dried her face, she gazed upon the camera screen and noticed the visitor was not just strange to her but that he had gained entrance into her ball room. And she raised a brow.
“Who the hell is this? What nerves!” she quarreled, tied up a towel that hung across her hot spotless tattooed thighs and hastily made to the ball room.
When she got to the ball room, she met Mr. Coleman standing at the bar, fetching himself a flute of red wine from a large Spanish red wine barrel.
Mr. Coleman perceived her presence and so he said, “When your husband and I left New York for Miami, we had little or nothing. It got to deciding what we could do with our lives. He chose wine business while I chose education. This happens to be the first barrel of wine he bought, and since then he fell in love with it and kept buying it,” he said, turned around and shot a smiling face at her, “Good memories. The name is Coleman, your husband’s cousin,” he introduced himself, pushed the flute of wine in the air, and intoned, “Cheers,” he noticed the look on her face as well as her flawless elegant skin that troubled his thought.
Ella clenched her jaw, locked eyes with him in rage and kept at her silence. Not that she didn’t know what to tell him but that she was deciding the most effective of words to tell one that would hurt him for summoning the nerves to barge into her house.
Mr. Coleman grinned briefly once he sipped the red wine. “I know you are already running hell for gaining entrance into your house. Apologies but you see my dear there are certain privileges you would have and you would be left with nothing than using them at your discretion. Your cousin gave me spare key to this mansion.” Mr. Coleman said, had a sip, winked at her, “Privilege,” he added.
“Even angels don’t have the nerves you have,” she spoke finally, rolled her eyes at him, walked to another bar at the opposite end and fetched herself a shot of whisky.
“Because they don’t have spare keys,” Mr. Coleman added, walked out of the bar, and threw his gaze at the large wedding picture frame that shone under the electric lamp. “I wasn’t at your wedding.”
“Too bad for a cousin that earns privileges. The wedding went well without you anyways,” she said and blurred at him arrogantly. Mr. Coleman was done staring the picture and it was time to take his seat, which he did and crossed his legs, “I wasn’t happy that he was taking another wife, after several divorce , I thought he was going to focus on making himself happy for the rest of his life.”
“And what is happiness without women?” she inquired and felt a bit relief when she sat on the stool at the bar, with enough room for her legs to part without having to flash her vagina lips at him, since he couldn’t see much of her.
And what makes you feel women are the sources of happiness. He has divorced six women, remained childless, finally got married to you and then got missing.” He sipped at his wine hastily and said, “Now tell me does that sound like happiness? Why would a full grown man get missing over night without any trace of whether he is alive or not?”
Are you suggesting that the women in his life are responsible for his misfortune?” Ella sounded had a gulp of the whisky and grinned.
“Well the suggestion might help the police with their investigation that is why I am in Miami. Anyone could be responsible for his disappearance. It could be you; it could be one of his ex-wives,” Mr. Coleman shrugged.
“Don’t forget it could also be you,” Ella added and smiled when she noticed Mr. Coleman was about bursting into laughter.
Once he was done laughing, he stroked his hair, rubbed his palms and said, “I wanted to work alone. I know with the police on my side I will find my missing cousin but they insisted I work with the wife if he has got one . Trust me, otherwise I wouldn’t have barged into your home and disturbed the peaceful, warm bath you were enjoying.
“It is OK,” she said, and sensed that Mr. Coleman had a good sense of humor and taking them by their words often could make you fall out with them with no just cause. “The disappearance of my husband deserves anything right now,” she said and pulled a pretentious bitter look across her face to convince him how badly she felt.
“The other day with grandma, she told me a whole lot about you,” Mr. Coleman said and walked to the artistic picture of his cousin on a yacht and stroked it.”
“What did she tell you about me? That I was a careless laborer that killed all her beasts in the farm and poisoned her birds?” she smiled while Mr. Coleman chortled.
“Um…something like that. She told me how you and your first husband worked hard in her farm; the death of your first husband and your pregnancy, how my son, Brian helped you put to bed; how you met my cousin on the night of her welcome back panty,” Mr. Coleman said, paused before he said further. “You have been family before marrying my cousin. So tell me how much you are close to my son, Brian?” he asked, staring at her for a response.
And she stared back in shock…