Song: 'Dancing With A Stranger' by Sam Smith ft. Normani
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Ola:
"How nice to meet you again, Saheed," Maduka says.
Again? So they know each other? And why is the atmosphere suddenly cooler?
"Maduka." Saheed nods curtly. "It's been a while."
Saheed's voice is clipped, not his usual, smooth baritone. I notice that neither of them extends a hand for even the briefest of handshakes.
"You two know each other?" I finally chip in, not ready to watch them have a stare down of sorts. My stomach grumbles; a sign that the sweet aroma of mouthwatering food is teasing me, but I am very much interested in this encounter between Maduka and Saheed.
Maduka turns to face me. When he speaks, I can hear the amusement in his voice. "Yes. It's a small world, isn't it?"
Maduka stands taller than Saheed by at least three inches. He carries more muscle weight, sports a clean-shaven face, and a straight side parting in his cropped dark hair. He looks like a dream, tall, dark, handsome... And very much married.
His wedding ring, a simple, gold band, is on the fourth finger of his left hand. And he had mentioned his wife, who sadly couldn't make it to the party.
"We have a baby. The most beautiful baby girl in the universe," he had said a few minutes earlier. "Her name is Zikorammachukwu. Kora, for short. She has her mother's eyes, huge and dark."
I had observed how excited he was to talk about his family. He even opened his phone gallery to show me photos of his wife and child. His wife is a curvy woman in her twenties, dark skinned with doll-like features and thick hair. Their baby is a small bundle of joy, her tiny fingers curled, eyes closed as she slept peacefully in the photo.
"Ola, I was beginning to get worried," Saheed tells me.
I step into the light to stand beside Maduka, inadvertently placing myself between them. Suddenly, I feel dwarfed by their height. Or maybe it's because the tension is so thick, you can cut through it with a knife. Or maybe I'm imagining it all.
"I see you've met Ola, my girlfriend." Saheed stretches out an arm to me.
"Your girlfriend," Maduka replies. He gives me another look, a rather quizzical one, like he is seeing me in a different way for the first time. "She is quite the charmer. She's got a lot of brain power, this one. She knows a bit about agriculture. I'm impressed."
I find myself feeling suddenly shy. But my curiosity gets the best of me and I ask, "So, were you both school mates at any point? Colleagues? Neighbours?"
Maduka glances at Saheed, then back at me, his brow raised. "We are mutual friends. His childhood friend happens to be a friend of mine."
Why does it feel incomplete?
"It's really a small world." I take Saheed's arm, still looking up at Maduka. "We should have dinner together sometime. Your wife is so lovely and I would like to meet her-- and your daughter. Isn't that a good idea, Baby?"
Saheed and Maduka regard each other for a few moments before Saheed looks at me with a tight smile. Beneath my hand, his arm muscles are like iron.
"I'd very much like that. Maduka will tell us when he and his wife are free," he finally says.
Maduka nods, his smile equally tight. "Nwanyieze will be pleased. Thank you, Ola. It was nice to meet you both."
He walks away, leaving me with a very silent Saheed who stands beside me with as much grace as a totem pole.
"Are you alright, Saheed?"
"Yes."
"He's such a nice fellow."
"We should go and eat now."
"Are you upset? Did anything happen between you two in the past?"
"Their fruit salad is so colourful. Let's go. There are people I would like you to meet."
And he leads me into the hall, his steps brisk. As he introduces me to one person or the other, it is like he has worn another mask, becoming what he is known for: the effortless charmer.
"She made this beautiful piece I'm wearing, see?" he tells an Indian couple, the tenth couple we are seeing tonight.
"Lovely," the woman says with a clap of her small, delicate hands. Her heavy-looking gold earrings swing with every movement of her head, and my eyes follow them.
"Prithvi, wouldn't you like a set like this to wear to one of your business meetings?" She asks her husband, a chubby man with olive skin and a full beard, complete with a handlebar moustache.
By the time we are done talking, I have run out of business cards.
" Why didn't you pursue a career in advertising? " I ask Saheed over a plate of shrimps and cole slaw. "You could sell literally anything and people would not even question you."
By now all the guests are seated and enjoying meals from the exotic menus that had been handed out earlier.
Saheed turns his head to smile at me, his eyes guarded. For the millionth time I wonder, what was it about Maduka that upset him? And why is he talkative one minute, and silent the next? Did I somehow annoy him?
"My path was chosen already," he says simply.
"You are multi-talented. A great actor, an architect, an engineer. I'm wondering what next you've got up your sleeves."
He leans towards me and whispers, "Would you like to find out for yourself?"
Suddenly my mouth feels like dry cotton. My face feels warmer, and I hope to God no one is paying attention to me. With his eyes still on mine, he slowly licks salad cream off his index finger. I watch, transfixed.
"Your shrimps are getting cold, Ola." A slow smile from him, the corners of his lips curling up knowingly.
"Mmm."
"Would you like more wine?"
"I need some air."
On the balcony once again, I enjoy the solitude, playing Candy Crush on my phone to distract myself. Someone had switched on the lights, and so visibility has improved. While swapping colourful candies on my screen, I ponder the question of whether Saheed is out for me or not.
No doubt, it was seduction I had seen back there. And my reaction to his gaze had been so visceral, it was jarring. And now... He very much knows about the effect he has on me. I'm sure he's in there, smirking.
"You didn't like the shrimps?"
I nearly jump two feet into the air before turning to see who spoke.
David Chukwueke.
"Don't tell me I'm seeing you in the flesh," I say with a surprised laugh.
David shrugs and steps closer, maintaining a few feet of distance between us. "I'm not that awesome in real life am I? I mean, I am shorter."
I laugh at his humour. David is the heir to one of Nigeria's largest oil companies. His face is always on the cover of one magazine or the other every few months. In his spare time, he likes to model. With his shiny, ebony skin, huge smile-- and prominent abdominal muscles-- he has captured the hearts of many Nigerian ladies. Also, his sense of humour is top-notch. Now, combine that with all the money he has, and you have the perfect bachelor.
"It seems I underestimated this party," I tell him.
He cocks his head to one side. "Why?"
"Too many famous and rich people in one place."
He shakes his head. "I take it that you hardly attend such gatherings."
"No, I'm just a plus one."
"Mmm. I saw you with Saheed Bello." He leans on the railings beside me. "I'm David Chukwueke, nice to meet you." He stretches out a hand towards me.
I shake my head, but I take his hand and we share a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you, too."
"Pardon my manners."
"Pardoned. Well, where's your plus one?"
He moves towards me and whispers, in a conspiratorial manner, "Don't tell anyone, but my plus one is actually my cousin."
The statement makes me laugh out loud. "You are not serious."
"As serious as a nun."
"Is that even a thing? 'As serious as a nun'?"
David shrugs. "By the way, I overheard Saheed saying you make men's outfits. I like what he's got on, and I'd like some for myself, too."
Inwardly, I'm screaming. If David Chukwueke wears my work, then I am assured of a flood of clients from his circle. But I use my best calm voice to say, " I ran out of business cards, so can I give you my number instead? "
" That would be great." David whips out his cellphone with a flourish. I type in my number for him and hand him his phone.
"I'm Ola Matthews, by the way. Pardon my forgetfulness."
"I know your name; I looked at the business card you gave someone back inside. I would have just taken your number from the card. "
Before I can speak, he interrupts, "You looked upset with the way you stepped out, and so I was concerned."
"Thank you, David. That's nice of you."
"You've met me for, like, the whole of three minutes. Wow, I'm flattered."
"Where were you seated?"
"On the table by your left. Provided me with a clear view of you eating those shrimps."
"So you were spying on me."
"No, I was just given the opportunity to look at a beautiful woman."
"Hello, David."
We both turn to see Saheed standing at the door, hands in his pockets. His face is passive, revealing no emotion.
"Saheed. How are you?" David replies.
Saheed spreads his arms. "As you can see, I am well."
What is it with this guy tonight? I ask myself.
David smiles and says, "That is good to know. We were worried when you left us at G-Plus that night. You seemed out of sorts."
Something flashes across Saheed's face for a moment before disappearing, like a violent wave giving way to a calm sea. He steps forward, a hand stretched towards me, his eyes on mine.
"Honey, shall we?"
It sounds like a plea, like he's silently saying, 'Please, take my hand. I want to get out of here. With you'.
Without hesitation, I put my hand in his. Our fingers automatically lock with each other's, in a grip so fierce I feel a shiver run up and down my spine.
"Ola, I'll call you," David says, bringing me back to the surface.
"Sure, I'm ready when you are. Good night, David."
"Good night to you two."
"Good night, David," Saheed clips before leading me away from the balcony.
"Are we leaving now?" I ask him when I notice we are heading towards the door leading to the hallway, where the bank of elevators is located. I am now finding it difficult to speak, even with the millions of questions running through my mind.
"Yes. Right now."
"The party is not over yet. And won't you say good bye to-"
"No."
Just one word silences me. Nothing more is said through out the elevator ride to the underground car park. My heels click on the concrete floor, echoing in the silence. Saheed seems to be dragging me along, not minding that unlike him, I am walking on platforms and cannot be as fast as he is.
"Could you just slow down!" I yell, unable to take it anymore. I pull my hand out of his grip.
He turns, surprised and obviously annoyed.
"My feet hurt, and it's not like we're running for our lives, Saheed. Nobody is chasing us."
"Did you have to yell?"
"And do you have to be so selfish? We are leaving because you want to. You won't give me an explanation. You're giving me a maximum of three-worded replies. And now, you're dragging me along like I'm a child."
He folds his arms across his chest and narrows his eyes. "Must you have the tea on everything?"
"Tea? Is that what you call it, tea? Like it's some fodder for gossip?"
Saheed turns and continues walking towards his car, which is now a few yards away. I follow at my pace.
"Why would you care, though?" he throws over his shoulder.
The question slaps me, but inside I know he has a point. Everything we have is fake. It's safer to overlook certain things, to avoid becoming so engrossed. However, I refuse to let it slide, because the fool must surely know I care about him...to an extent.
" Do you still feel guilty for coming between them?"
My words stop him in his tracks. He might as well be a statue, a block of salt like Lot's wife in the Bible.
"Are you upset that you finally met Maduka and it didn't go as you expected? Were you expecting him to be hostile towards you?"
Slowly, I walk towards where he stands, his back to me. Saheed's shoulders are rising and falling as he takes slow, deep breaths. He is staring straight ahead, looking at something I cannot see in the brightly lit parking space filled with cars.
" I saw your face when I mentioned his wife and daughter."
Finally, he moves, bringing out his car's remote control from his pocket. I hear the sound of the car doors unlocking. I wait, expecting him to say something. Then, he speaks.
"Get into the car. I have to drop you at yours so I can get to the Island on time."
***
A silent drive.
He doesn't even glance at me. Feeling guilty, I stare out the window, looking at the street lamps and other cars plying the roads at this time of the night.
Lagos at night is beautiful, depending on the area you find yourself in. Despite the potential dangers lurking in the darkness, it offers some kind of freedom, an exhilarating experience, that you can do whatever you want, however you want it.
I think about these moments and the last ones. Saheed and I, holding in pent-up emotions threatening to burst us at the seams. How badly had things played out between him, Maduka, and Nwanyieze in the past? What had he been thinking? What kind of person had he been back then? And was it in my place to find out? No.
I turn away from the window to look at him. "Saheed, thank you for tonight. I had a good time."
He waits for a few heartbeats. Then, he nods stiffly, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
Feeling stupid, I blink rapidly before turning back to the window, to continue drowning in my thoughts. I have never seen him like this, and it upsets me more.
He parks right in front of my apartment block. My own flat is on the ground floor. Eager to put some distance between us, I mumble a thank you and a good night, open the door, and run up to my front door. It takes me a few seconds to let myself into my flat and shut the door, not bothering to wave goodbye at him.
Quickly, I take off my shoes and stretch my feet with a sigh, already weary of the fact that I have to wipe off my make up and take a bath in the middle of the night.
A knock startles me, and I peep through the peephole to see who it is, although I already have my suspicions. Sure enough, Saheed is standing there when I swing open the door. The fluorescent light washes over him, accentuating the angles of his face.
"Is there a problem?" I ask him, my voice coming out as a squeak that annoys me.
"You forgot your lipstick. It must have fallen out of your purse."
"Oh. Thank you."
I collect the lipstick he is holding out towards me. Our fingers brush. To my surprise, he holds onto my hand. My heart hammers in my chest like a trapped bird, beating against my rib cage.
"Is... Is there a problem?" I stammer.
His other hand rises to brush against my cheek as his fingers move towards the back of my neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. He watches my reaction, his amber eyes never leaving mine, holding me in thrall. They are like pools of molten lava, with the potential to burn and melt me if I venture too close.
I'm there already.
I'm suddenly aware of how hard I'm breathing, of how the intensity of his gaze is making me feel like my stomach is falling. I watch as he leans forward, bringing his face inches from mine and pausing suddenly.
No, don't stop now, I almost plead. I hear a moan, and I realise, surprised, that I had made that sound. His breath fans my face and I perceive the scent of wine on it.
"Do you want this?" he whispers.
Muted by need, I nod, sucking in a deep breath.
"Good," he murmurs before drawing me closer and crushing his lips to mine.
A/N: I hope you loved this chapter!
I'm so happy Maduka showed up and I'm glad he didn't display any hostility. What about you? What were your expectations? Please tell me!
And say hello to David, guys! What's your guess on his back story? I want to know!
P. S. Don't forget to vote!