WHAT BILLIONAIRES TASTE LIKE

He had known Azuaka Jnr. to be a tear away. Once on campus Azuaka Jnr. had told him in the future he would do anything to make the Monkeys’ software come through, including taking lives. Agu’s eyes stared in the space while he sipped his tea.

Azuaka Jnr. looked at him, cleared his throat and his stare was not distracted. “What are you thinking about, Agu?” he asked.

“What else if not the wealth that awaits us. I strongly believe we will make it.”

Azuaka Jnr. said nothing. He smoked his cigarette to butt, stood, grabbed his towel and left to have his bath.

Agu’s thoughts returned, dribbling in his head as he watched tiny vapor from his tea. So you murdered your father, Azuaka Jnr. you could kill me then. You could kill us. I just got to be careful, hmmm, Monkeys’ software.

“The machine codes were prepared and tested before I bought them,” said Nku while he clicked the keyboard, running some installation. “Oh shit!” he railed at the monitor. “It is still incorrect.”

Ferguson walked to his side and dropped a cup of coffee. “You gotta take it easy, man,” said Ferguson, “To get sand you gotta to hit rocks.” He leaned to the laptop. “Maybe I’ve got magic fingers. Can I do something?” He took the code bulletin from Nku and started clicking the keyboard. I don’t know much about software but anything can happen.” He paused to light his cigar. “Enter,” he said, clicking the keyboard, and gazed at Nku.

Nku noticed his coffee and had a sip. “What do you expect of me? This is the reason I summoned the boys. If they come now what do I tell them; that in two nights I’m yet to launch into the second phase of coding?”

Ferguson pointed to the monitor, “Looka that. It’s processing. It won’t be incorrect this time around.” He drew from his cigar.

“How certain is your answer?”

“As certain as a bitch’s ass.” Ferguson laughingly said and sat on the bed. “Easy, maestro, making money requires patience. Are you going to render the world broke without hurdles?”

“Not this kind, dude.”

The monitor blared an alarm that paused their faces. They looked at once.

CORRECT. SERVER READY!

“Yes, we got it!” Nku jumped away from Ferguson, punching into the air. He took the seat before the monitor.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“You better take it easy before you commit another error,” Ferguson thought and giggled.

“God forbid!” Nku fired. Soon the keyboard was clicking.

Ferguson was all smiles. Nku turned around to think he was smiling at him but he was actually smiling at his thought.

His plans had not been machination anyways. He was a successful California based, photographer for Washington Daily until his secret photography career with pornography stars leaked. Washington Daily had in their records from time immemorial staffers that were clean to the heels, and they delegated over their reputation, especially when the leak was made known by the public. For months, ‘Washington Daily Photographer Implicated In Pornography’ remained a cover story for other newspapers and wet in the ears of public. The management could not absorb the criticism, the names, the gossip, the mockery and the snail effect on sales of their dailies. Ferguson was summoned before the board to resist his retrenchment and to have a fair hearing as a utility staff. After hours of retrograde questioning, the board was shocked at his answers of owing up to the leak. In less than 24 hours it was about Ferguson keeping his office in order for final resignation. He could not afford hands-on-the head in the rest of the penurious summer. But he never gave a short. His intention came through; committing to what made him lose his million-dollar job; promoting his art of porn photography. Although he did not make as much as he made as a WD photographer, yet he earned enough to save for his mortgaged house and the future. It was in the frying sun on the beach where he was taking photographs of a blonde, Mexican, porn star, that Nku came in his life. Their meeting was grace. Nku had flown in from New York to present the eBay he developed for the producer of the porn star. For four months that Ferguson visited Nku he got to know the project in California, one that would set him up for life. Ferguson decided to stick around Nku; he paid off the mortgage on his house, relocated to New York, moved in with Nku and footed the project. His idea was well planned; if he could be the mainstay of the project, in due season when the software would be ready to run he would advise Nku on their selling it to a Chinese software billionaire that could pay the whole world to have it.

My plan is working gradually. Yes, yes. He thought.

The phone rang and Ferguson answered it. “Workaholic,” he called Nku, “From the reception. The boys are here.”

“Let them in,” Nku replied, busy clicking.

“Let them in,” he spoke into the phone and hung up.

After a moment there was a knock on the door. Ferguson blinked and had a deep breath at the thought of Azuaka Jnr. As he opened the door his hands trembled.

Agu’s broad smiles snapped, “Hi, Ferg,” he greeted and shook hands with Ferguson. The two watched as Azuaka Jnr. snobbed Ferguson’s hand.

“What’s up, Nku?” Azuaka Jnr. asked and shook hands with Nku who was ready to leave the keyboard now.

“Way up, Azu. Way up. We are climbing the mountain gradually.”

Ferguson was about smoking when Nku looked at him. Frustration pervaded his whole being as though a dozen of shells were thrown at him. He had a draw and puffed before walking to the jug to pour coffee.

“I can see,” Agu bent across the monitor. “Are we ready to render the world broke?”

“Soon, son of man.”

Nku’s eyes were still on Ferguson, watching him smoke while he poured coffee. His eyes returned to Azuaka Jnr. who had grabbed a bottle of red wine from the shelf.

About continuing the discussion, Ferguson cut in, “Why don’t we discuss over coffee?” His green eyeballs rolled.

Azuaka Jnr. was almost choked with the wine when he heard that. “I don’t need your coffee. Tortoise doesn’t prepare coffee for monkeys.”

Nku banged the table and said, “Hell no, Azu, I will not stand here and watch you insult Ferguson. He only made a suggestion for the house for chrissake!” He was blazing already, holding a stern face and staring Azuaka Jnr. in the eyes.

He had a sip before he smiled and said, “The problem with this world is the truth. I only said the truth and you’re behaving like I cut his dick.”

“Come on guys,” Ferguson said, his New York accent came solidly, “It’s all about a happy day.” He walked to Nku’s side and tapped him twice on the shoulder. “Let’s go on, man. Let’s make money.”

“Ferguson,” Agu called. “A cup of white coffee, please.”

“Right away, man,” he answered Agu and saw to his order. He and Nku loved it black. He first sorted that out before fixing Agu’s.