CRACKS AND CODE

A GAME OR NOT

Tuesday Morning – Maxwell’s Office

Maxwell looked up from his laptop when he heard a gentle knock on the door.
“Come in,” he called.

Curtis stepped inside, a folded copy of the Business Daily in hand, his expression uncharacteristically animated. Without preamble, he dropped it onto Maxwell’s desk.

Max glanced at the headline splashed across the Lifestyle section:
Fashion — The New Gold Mine.
Beneath it, a full-page spread featured a beaming Anisa standing beside Kaitu, both elegant and poised. He hadn't had a conversation with her since Lagos, but her name still felt like a bruise he couldn’t stop touching. The caption detailed the buzz surrounding Anisa’s custom design that had  made history, the first time a Kenyan actress had won Best Dressed at the AMVCA held a month ago.

Anisa’s quote stood out in bold:
“Fashion isn’t just art, it’s an industry with the power to transform our economy. If we stop treating style as vanity and start treating it as enterprise, Kenya won’t just be importing trends, we’ll be exporting them.”

Max let out a low whistle. “Well… damn. I knew she was talented, but this? This is next level.” He skimmed the interview, reading about her creative process, the attention to detail, the economic potential she championed. “She’s got vision. I’m impressed.”

Before Curtis could reply, his phone buzzed on the desk. Kelly.
Curtis glanced at the screen, hit ‘Decline’ without hesitation, and slid the phone  into his pocket.

Maxwell arched a brow. “Since when do you ignore Kelly’s calls?”

Curtis leaned against the desk, casual. “Since a couple of months ago. Ended things. With her and Petra.”

Maxwell’s head shot up. “Wait, you ended both? And you didn’t tell me?” He gave him a mock-incredulous look. “So… who’s in rotation now?”

Curtis’s tone was dry. “Nobody.”

Maxwell narrowed his eyes, curiosity piqued. “How long have you known Anisa?”

Curtis met his gaze. “I’ve come across her work before. Some fashion blogs. Even bought a couple of pieces from her line.”

Maxwell’s smirk sharpened. “Mmh. So… she’s the reason you ditched Kelly and Petra?”

Curtis shot him a flat look. “No.”

But Maxwell was already leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. “Sure. Totally unrelated. Just a coincidence that you meet this Anisa and suddenly your calendar is wide open.”

Curtis shook his head, muttering under his breath, but the faintest flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the kind Maxwell didn’t miss.

He smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Before I forget, I’ve been meaning to ask… since when did you change? Feels like we’ve swapped tables. I’m the good boy now, and you’re the bad boy.”

Maxwell raised a brow. “What do you mean, Curt? I’m a good boy. Always have been, always will be.”

Curtis’s grin turned sly. “So tell me, who’s taking the title of your girl these days? Oh, wait… that’s right, Isabella. But funny thing… I see you acting some type of way whenever Kaitu is around.”

Maxwell’s easy expression hardened, his voice dropping a notch. “Isabella is literally sleeping with another man in Singapore, and I’m not allowed to talk to a girl I like? Kaitu and I haven’t even kissed. If Isabella was faithful to me, you know I’d never have glanced twice at Kaitu. But since she’s decided to play a game…” He shrugged, “…I don't think I owe her that much loyalty.”