Loving A Stripper (Editing)

chapter 3🌞

Grace

I turned on my bed as the sound of my alarm clock blasted through my ears, with sleep still clouding my eyes I hit the clock off, this made it fell to the floor.

The alarm rang again, but this time, I fall off the bed with all signs of sleep gone. "Come on, I thought I turned you off," I grumbled, standing up and picking the clock.

Too early to wake her. I thought, staring at Natalie, who crawled up in a ball beside me.

I sat down on my bed, yawned and stretched my body. I heard some cracks and smiled, but frowned recalling yesterday's event.

How dare that bastard call me a prostitute, oh if I lay my hands on him.

You won't do anything, so just forget about the big head with his oversize shoe. My subconscious mind said interjected.

I smiled knowing how satisfactory it felt to imagine awkward stuff on perfect people.

Not that he is perfect. I thought, standing up.

I had to make breakfast and prepare for my new work, slowly I moved to the bathroom, switched on the light, but immediately covered my eyes.

With my eyes now adjusted to the light, I picked my toothbrush and spread my toothpaste while humming "Calling by Chinko Ekun featuring Johnny drille'.

***

"Natalie, I'm going to be late!" I yelled, standing outside our one-bedroom flat.

It was already 7:00 am and I had to beat the Lagos Ikoyi traffic, my shift starts at exactly 9:00 am.

"I will leave you ooh!"

"Sis, I'm sorry I forgot my text on the reading table, I had to go get it," She said, waving her textbook as an envidence of Truth.

I jammed the door locked and turned to her. "You have your keys right?"

"Yes I do."

"Let's go."

I led the way out of the compound, searching for my fare in my black leather bag.

***

"How may I help you sir?" I inquired, with a smile that was directed at the elderly man who stood in front of my desk.

"I booked a room yesterday, I will love to check in now."

"Ok sir, what name did you book in with?"

"Lucky Dauda."

I adjusted my glasses and typed down on the computer in front of me. "What room were you booked under?"

"Room 14."

"Can I see any means of identification sir?"

He extended a card to me. "This is my national ID card."

"This is your key sir, any service you need, just call the front desk, you are welcome."

"Thank you," He said, and walked down the hall as one of the attendants took his bags.

I took off my glasses which was useless since I had no issues with my eyes and turned to record his entry.

"Grace? Right?" My supervisor asked, staring down at the name tag on my red jacket.

White shirt, red jacket, red skirt, accompanied by a red tie, were given to every employed receptionist after passing hours of interviews.

"Right," I answered, smiling politely.