Will you be my Valentine 💝 💝 

When he asked me to be his Valentine around this time last year, my mind did endless flips. This was the first time someone had asked me out seriously. Before then , it had always been a joke—casual teasing, nothing more. And to be honest, I didn’t really know him, except that he was a customer at the hotel where I worked as a waiter.
My heart raced with excitement. Don’t get me wrong—I wasn’t in love, but I was just tired of spending Valentine’s Day alone, locked indoors, or with my girlfriends.
It all began one evening at City Drive Mada. He and a few of his friends were looking for a discreet spot to celebrate his graduation party. Just four men. One was dark-skinned and tall, dressed in a Chinese-collar shirt—his name was Maxwell. Another, Drake, was chocolate-skinned, well-groomed, and in a brown three-piece suit. He was the smiley one. The third man, dressed in khaki trousers and a polo T-shirt, seemed like their leader. The way they hovered around him made it obvious. I guess He was the one going to pay the bill.

But one of them stood out to me.
I try to be impartial with all my customers, but he was different. Did I mention he was tall? He matched—or even exceeded—my height. His presence was impossible to ignore. I learned his name that night Cyrus.A man from the lake side , no wonder the glamour in his dressing and speech
I wasn’t supposed to be working that evening. My colleague Onesmus—whom we called Ness—had asked me to cover his shift. He had agirl friend to take care of that evening, He wasn’t a bad colleague, so I agreed without much thought. After all what are friends for?

They ordered rare drinks and meals that were on order, it had to be clear they were celebrating and I served them gladly. Something about them intrigued me. They didn’t seem in a hurry to leave; in fact, they were among the last customers at about 4am. The hotel was buzzing busy with love birds and reservations everywhere then there were this four men who were here celebrating a degree , I later got to know he had gotten a masters degree.

As I closed down for the night, tired and fatigued, I noticed something on the cleft between the couch where the four men sat it was A wallet.
It didn’t look like it had dropped, looked like someone had carefully squeezed it in there for me to see
I pulled it out and checked inside. No Identification, no valuables—just a business card and a neatly folded two-thousand-shilling note. Whoever owned it was either extremely careful or had just pulled off a clever trick to get a girl’s attention. And he got it.

On the card, the name read: Mr. Cyrus Hindama – Evergreen General Supplies. He was a managing director.
I wasn’t working the following day, I slept in for fatigue from the previus night and woke up at around 11,, I saw the wallet there and decided to make the call.
I dialed the number, and the moment the voice on the other end spoke, I knew exactly who it was.
“Evvie, is that you?”
I hesitated. “Yes, it is….. Mr Hindama? You left your wallet here. It’s safe with me; you can come pick it up.”**
I expected a simple “Thank you, I’ll be there.”
Instead, his next words caught me completely off guard.

“Evvie, will you be my Valentine?”
I laughed and immediately objected.
I had a dozen reasons why it wouldn’t work—I was working that evening and wasn’t about to go out with a strange customer I had just met the previous night.
Okay ..where can I at least pick up my wallet,, I knew within myself that there was no way a wallet was the issue,, but I had it and the owner wanted it. We arranged a meet up place to pick it wallet and the evening ended with a dinner.

There’s so much more I could say, but what matters is this—that was the last shift I ever worked at City Drive Mada.
I thank Ness every day.
Because one year later, the man I met that night at Mada… is still my Valentine.
—Story of one waitress, Evvie

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Nyambura Ndungu | 120219 | 11:43 PM