Coincidence IV

 

Photo from Google

Luc stared at his iMac. It was blank. He couldn’t come up with a code. It was the third time it was happening that Monday. It was a good thing he didn’t have to be at his office. He wondered what his workers would say about their boss moping around. After the disaster on Saturday, he hadn’t been himself. He had gone to the gym on Sunday to work off his frustration. Then he had cooked a large pot of fried rice Monday morning and wondered what he’d do with the food. Every time he picked up his phone to call or text Amara, he remembered her telling him to leave her alone. Most importantly, he remembered Ngozi’s threats. He almost texted her anyway. Ngozi wasn’t going to skin him alive literally, was she? He couldn’t tell with her. For all he knew, she had hitmen that would do her bidding. As much as he wanted to talk to Amara, he wasn’t ready to die before he got the chance to. He had to find another way.

Chuka.

Chuka had a broad experience with women. He would know something that could help his current predicament. He hated that he couldn’t figure this out on his own. He hated that he couldn’t talk to Amara more. So, swallowing his pride, he picked up his phone and called Chuka. He picked up almost immediately.

“Guy, how far na? This one you remembered me on a Monday?” Chuka chuckled.

Despite his current state, Luc smiled. Chuka was right, he hardly disturbed his friend on a Monday. Except it was important. And this was important.

“How you dey? Luc asked.

“I’m perfectly fine. Got back to Lagos yesterday. My trip was fine, thanks for asking.”

Oh shit! In his current state of mind, he had forgotten that Chuka hadn’t been in town and that he had arrived Sunday evening.

“Guy, I’m sorry. I forgot.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“Water under the bridge. Are you good? For real?”

“I need your help with something. Can I come over your place later this evening?”

“Well, I didn’t go to work today. If you’re not exactly busy, you could come over now.”

Luc sat up, “really? I won’t be intruding?”

“Nope. Bring chaw sha. I dey H.”

Luc smiled to himself. “That’s not a problem. Fried rice and chicken ok?”

“O boy, nwete the fried rice here. Bring the fried rice.”

 “You’ll see me in a bit.”

 

***

“You did what?” Chuka rolled over his black leather couch with laughter.

Luc almost punched him in the face. It was the first comment Chuka was making since he recapped everything that happened on Saturday. After eating a full plate of fried rice and salad. That Lucas had given him. The ingrate.  “Guy, it’s not funny.”

“Biko, b you said—”

“Do you think you’re the only one that likes his head attached to his body?”

“Chuka—”

“I like being in Ngozi’s good graces, my dear friend.”

“Please. Biko.”

“Just why are you trying to make me feel like a bad person?”

Lucas grinned and tried another tactic. “I’ll take care of your lunch for a week. I’ll buy you a bottle of Chardonnay.”

Chuka thought for a while. “Any food I want?”

“Don’t push it.”

“You’re the one who needs my help.”

“Ok, how about four days whatever you want, and three days whatever I give you?”

Chuka stuck out his hand and Luc shook it. “Deal.”

“Where can I see Ngozi?”

“A neutral place. Where she won’t kill you and hide your body.”

Luc could have turned purple. “She seems like someone who has hitmen, right?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Ok, where’s neutral enough?”

“Her makeup studio.”

Luc snorted. “She can do that there. You said it yourself, ‘her Makeup studio.’” He made quotation marks in the air.

“She loves the place so much. She won’t stain it with your blood. Plus, she wouldn’t want to embarrass herself in front of her clients.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Me too. Let me give her a call.”

Luc’s heart drummed in his chest as he waited for Ngozi to pick up Chuka’s call.

“Hey baby,” Chuka said and Luc scoffed.

“Yeah, I’m good… I know you miss me. Ok, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow at the studio. Sure, kisses. Bye baby. We have a rendezvous with Miss Peters at noon tomorrow.” Chuka declared.

“That sounded more like a hookup,” Luc grimaced, trying not to think of Ngozi and Chuka together.

“Will you be there or not?”

“Wouldn’t it have been safer if you told her I was coming? This sounds like an ambush. She’ll kill us both.”

Chuka laughed nervously, “I hope she doesn’t kill me before I make you prepare pizza for me.”

Luc rolled his eyes again, but said, “thanks, man. Let me get a speech ready for Ngozi tomorrow.”

They talked about Chuka’s trip and some other things before Luc decided to head back home. He tried working again, managed a few lines before he gave up, and forced himself to see a movie to get his mind off his issues. He tried conjuring a speech for Ngozi before going to bed. Then he had nightmares of her malicious grin.

 

***

“What on earth is he doing here, Chuka?” Ngozi spat as soon as Luc and Chuka stepped into her office. Her receptionist had ushered them into the office of her make-up studio on Admiralty Way.

“Zii,” Chuka began, “he needs to talk to you. Just hear him out.”

Ngozi gave Chuka a bored look, then she sneered at Lucas. She drifted her eyes back to Chuka and said, “Why did you bring him here? This was supposed to be a nice meeting between the both of us?”

“Well, I brought him here cos you can’t chop his head off here.”

Ngozi scoffed, “ya think?”

Lucas who had been standing at the door, gulped and, walked closer to Ngozi’s desk. He rested his hands on the desk, looked into her eyes, and spoke with boldness he didn’t know he had. “Listen Ngozi, I know you love Amara. And I know I messed up. There’s an explanation for that. Since you forbade me to speak to Amara, you’re gonna listen to my explanation. After all, I wasn’t forbidden to speak to you. I’m here now, if after I’m done talking you still want my head, then so be it.”

“Nah-ah!” Chuka exclaimed. “You are not dying before you make pizza for me.”

“Shut up!” Ngozi and Luc said in unison.

Chuka widened his eyes in shock and muttered, “ok.” Finding a seat in the office, a very comfortable sofa, he plopped down on it and folded his arms. He took his time to admire Ngozi’s office again. The walls were purple and pink. Different posters and pictures of ladies with makeup hung on the walls. Posters of House of Tara, Classic makeup, and a bunch of others he didn’t know how to pronounce. He always thought ladies were strong. He couldn’t imagine sitting down for hours for someone to draw on his face.

 

Luc hadn’t taken his eyes off Ngozi. Which meant he didn’t notice Chuka’s sulking. He watched her as she drummed her fingers on her desk. He was tempted to check out her perfectly manicured fingernails. Maybe he would after she listened to him. Why was he thinking of Ngozi’s manicure anyway?

 

“Ok, I’ll hear you out,” Ngozi finally said, stopping him from thinking of her manicure. “You have 3 minutes.”

“Wait. What?” Luc frowned. “3 minutes is most likely not to be enough.”

“Your time has already started,” Ngozi rested her back on her seat and gave her devilish grin. “Make it count.”

Luc rolled his eyes and sat down. He tried as much as possible to explain everything in under 3 minutes.

“So, you’re saying that you took the gossip blogger to my parents’ party as a favor?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

Ngozi picked up her pen and played with it. “You should have told Amara the reason you couldn’t go with her.”

Luc sighed, “I know, I know. I made a mistake. I just didn’t know how the truth would sound and I opted for the lie.”

Ngozi chuckled, “now I feel bad for you.” Before any of them knew it, Ngozi had burst out laughing. Chuka, who had been silent since they shut him up, joined her in laughing.

“Babe, his story is pathetic,” Chuka said.

“I know right,” Ngozi agreed. “Such bad luck.”

“Well, you’re laughing. Does that mean I get to live?”

“Oh, yes, please. You just gave me comic relief. I can’t kill you after this.” Ngozi couldn’t control her mirth.

“Are you both done making fun of me?” Luc fumed.

“Well, you gotta agree, it is funny,” Ngozi tried to swallow her laughter.

“I’ll laugh when Amara speaks to me again. Now, will you help me?” Luc asked Ngozi.

Ngozi sighed, “you mean trick Amara into seeing you as Chuka tricked me?” She glared at Chuka. Chuka looked away and hid his face behind his palm.

“If that’s what it’ll take, can you do it?”

Ngozi grinned, “of course, I can do it. I have convinced Amara to do a couple of things.”

“I don’t think I want to know those couple of things,” Luc grimaced.

“He is no fun at all,” Ngozi said to Chuka. “How is he your friend?”

“To be fair, he’s not all that bad. He’s just been worse because he hasn’t spoken to his Love.” Chuka stretched the love.

If Luc could blush, he probably did, a hundred shades of red. Scarlet. Crimson. Et cetera. “I’m fun. And I’m right here, guys. Could you not talk about me like I’m not here?”

Ngozi waved her hand as if dismissing his statement. “I can get Amara here in a heartbeat. But let’s get something straight.” She leaned in and spoke with an icy calm tone. “If you hurt Amara again, deliberately or not, I’ll hurt you too. In ways you have never imagined. Don’t make me regret forgiving you.”

“The last thing I want to do is hurt her,” Luc said truthfully.

“Fine,” Ngozi said, going back to her usual self. “Be here at noon tomorrow. It’s her break. I can get her to come over.”

“Tomorrow? What about today? I can’t spend another day with this misery.”

Ngozi snorted, “sure you can. And you will. I forgave you doesn’t mean you won’t finish your penance. Besides, I have to come up with a good reason why Amara should leave the cook’s food at her office and come to my studio.”

“Fine,” Luc stood to leave, “thank you for your hospitality. We’ll be leaving now.”

“Who’s we?” Chuka asked, still very comfortable on the couch.

“Err, I’m sure Ngozi has work to do. And so do we.” Luc said.

“You can leave. I’ll catch up with you. Later,” Chuka replied.

“Much later,” Ngozi offered.

Luc looked from Chuka to Ngozi and decided he didn’t want to know why Chuka was staying behind. Bolting for the door, he muttered a “bye” that he wasn’t sure either of them heard.

 

***

Amara checked her phone for what could have been the millionth time that day. Still, nothing from Luc. Well, granted, she had said he should stay away from her. But she didn’t mean it, did she? She just wanted him to be sorry for what he did. She was angry and hurt. And she didn’t even think she should be. He didn’t owe her an explanation of who he went out with. She wasn’t his wife, let alone his girlfriend. She was just probably someone he just played with whenever he was bored. He must have a list of girls he could take a pick from. Why did it have to be Beverly? Why did she even care that it was Beverly? Ok, Beverly made her life a bit unbearable in secondary school. Beverly dated the guy she secretly crushed on. Now that she thought she might have a chance with him, Beverly is still in his life.

“He could have just told me they were still together,” she muttered to herself. “Why did he lie? I hate being played with.”

“Err, are you talking to yourself or me?” Olaitan asked her.

Shit, she was doing it again, forgetting that she shared the office with Olaitan.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Was talking to myself.”

Olaitan paused what she was typing on her laptop and focused on Amara. “Why are you talking to yourself, baby?”

Amara shrugged, “Cos I can. And I want to.”

Olaitan sighed, “you know. You’ve been moping around since Monday. What’s wrong with you? Does it have anything to do with the Peters’ party on Saturday? You haven’t even given me the gist.”

Amara almost screamed at Olaitan. That is the one thing she didn’t want to talk about. The Peters’ party. That was why she was moping around. Why couldn’t she just move on? Would it kill Luc to even pretend to be sorry by calling or messaging her? Then she’d worry about whether to accept his excuses. Jeez! Why couldn’t he just…

“Amara? Amarachi!” Olaitan exclaimed. “Snap out of it, whatever it is you were thinking of.”

Now she was getting lost in thoughts. She had to do something about this feeling. Plastering a fake, but convincing smile on her face, she said, “I was just thinking about how my mum is still very upset that she couldn’t come to the party. Ngozi had to placate her with a lot of goodies.” At least that wasn’t a lie. Zii had dropped her off at her house on Sunday, with a lot of goodies for her mum, and her dad, and a lot of goodies and hugs for her.

Olaitan didn’t believe for one second that Amara was thinking of her mum, but she went along anyway. “No goodies for me?” She pouted.

Amara laughed, “I’ll ask Ngozi for souvenirs.” Just then, her phone rang. Picking it up with the hope that it was Luc, she almost hissed in disappointment when she saw the caller.

“Talk of the devil,” she said to Olaitan. “It’s Ngozi.”

“Hi Zii,” she answered, almost bored.

“You don’t sound happy to hear from me, love,” Ngozi said.

Amara sighed. “I’m sorry I thought you would be someone else.”

“Awwn. You thought I was Luc? I thought you didn’t want to hear from him?”

Lowering her voice so that Olaitan wouldn’t hear her, she said, “Today is Wednesday. It’s been 4 days. I think I’ve gone from angry to slightly pissed. Why on earth hasn’t he said anything to me? Am I that unimportant to him?”

Ngozi, thinking that it was probably her fault that Luc hadn’t contacted Amara remained silent.

“Do you think I should say something to him?” Amara filled the silence.

“Oh no!” Jeez, all Ngozi needed to do was get her to the studio and she’d talk to the guy. “Come over to my studio. Let’s have lunch.”

Amara scowled. Why had Ngozi pretended as if she didn’t say anything? “I don’t want to have lunch with you.”

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings.”

“Good for you.”

“Hey, just come over. You can order anything you want. And talk about Luc if you want to.”

Amara thought for a while. She did want something to get her mind of Luc even if it meant talking about him finally. “Alright. I’ll meet you at the studio. I want Chinese.”

“No problem.”

“Oh,” Amara said, raising her voice now so Olaitan could hear. “Laitan wants goodies too from your parents’ party.”

Ngozi chuckled. “Alright, I’ll get her something.

Putting her phone down, she said to Olaitan. “She said she’ll get you something.”

Olaitan celebrated at her desk.

“See you soon,” Amara said to Ngozi and hung up.

“Now, what exactly was bothering you?” Olaitan asked Amara again.

Amara sighed, “I’m not sure I can talk about it yet.”

“It’s alright. Whenever you can, I’m here for you.”

Amara gave her a wry smile. She was actually blessed with good friends and she was grateful for them.

Some miles away, Ngozi said to Luc, “she’ll be here soon.”

“Thanks Ngozi,” Luc replied.

 

***

Amara thought about the Chinese food she would eat on her way to Ngozi’s studio. Entering the reception, she said hello to the receptionist who knew her very well. Moving through the lobby, she passed some clients getting their nails done or having makeovers. She finally got to Ngozi’s office, saying hello to Ngozi’s assistant. Without knocking on the door, she yanked it open.

“I hope you have ordered my Chinese,” she said to Ngozi, sauntering in.

“Can’t you knock?” Ngozi glared at her.

“Abeg,” Amara took out a chair at the other side of Ngozi’s table. “why should I be formal with you?”

Ngozi sighed. “I haven’t ordered Chinese. Maybe later. You have a guest.” She motioned for Amara to look behind her with her head.

Amara, who hadn’t paid attention to any other thing in the office, looked back and was stunned.

“Lucas!”

“Hi,” Luc managed, from the couch he was sitting on.

Amara whirled back at Ngozi, “What is going on here?”

“He just wants to talk to you.”

“You were the one thinking of ways to kill him, now you want me to talk to him?”

“Yes, I said all those things. But look at him, he has puppy eyes.” Ngozi pouted.

Amara snorted, “since when do you care if someone has puppy eyes?”

“Since he gave me a short version of what happened.”

“He hasn’t said anything to me since Saturday, why should I listen to him now?”

Ngozi scratched her ear, “that might have been my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I told him I’d kill him if he spoke to you,” Ngozi said innocently.

“You did what?”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you upset or crying over him.”

“I wasn’t crying over him. Don’t say that in front of him.” Amara said through gritted teeth.

“Well, I thought you both had forgotten I was in the room,” Luc said from behind.

Amara stiffened at that.

“Look at me, Amara. Please.”

Slowly, Amara turned to face him. “What?”

“Would you please give me a few minutes of your time? I need you to see the entire picture of Saturday.”

Amara sighed deeply and stood to leave. “I don’t know that I want to hear what you have to say yet.”

Luc went to the door and blocked it. “Ok, fine. I get it. You have to get back to work. But just give me any day and any time. Give me a location and I’ll come to you. No coincidences this time.”

“Or ambushes,” Amara scoffed at Ngozi.

Luc gave a rueful smile. “None of that. Just me explaining myself to you because not being able to talk to you is killing me.”

Amara had mixed feelings about the situation. So, she had wanted him to apologize for what he did, but she didn’t know if she would believe whatever excuse he had. But she’d listen to him.

“Ok fine. I’ll hear you out. Not for you though, just cos my best friend went through the stress of ambushing me.”

“That’ll do for me,” Luc replied, a little light shone on his face. “So, when can we see?”

Amara began to wish it was already Friday and she could go out that evening, but she had work and going out on a week day wasn’t her style.

“Friday evening is all I’ve got at the moment.” She finally said.

Luc almost groaned. Friday was two days away, but he had to be patient.

“Friday works fine for me. I’ll pick you up at your house?”

“Yeah, my house,” Amara responded absentmindedly. She was thinking of leaving work early that day and heading home in the usual Lagos traffic. “8pm.”

“Err, does he know where you live?” Ngozi asked her.

Amara blinked. Of course he had no idea where she stayed. In Obalende. “I’ll text you the address, Lucas.”

Luc nodded his head in agreement. He noticed she kept calling him Lucas, not Luc. “I’d ask you where we’re going but I guess you’d tell me on Friday.”

“Yes I will,” Amara responded. “Now get out. I’d like to order and eat my Chinese in peace and also kill Ngozi.”

Luc chuckled. Damn he had missed her. He wanted to hug her, but he wasn’t going to press his luck. He mumbled his thanks to Ngozi and left her office.

Amara didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Luc left the office.

“Hey babe, you good?” Ngozi had come to where Amara was standing and put her arms round her.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting him in person. A call or text maybe, not in person.”

“I’m sorry, I might have been out of line when I threatened him. I shouldn’t have prevented him from speaking to you.”

Amara gave a lopsided grin. “No, I like that you actually did. He went through a lot of effort to try to speak to me. Maybe he’s actually sorry for what he did.”

“Oh, indeed he is.”

“Care to tell me the short version of what happened on Saturday?” Amara asked, with a puppy face too.

“Nope,” Ngozi declared, sauntering back to her seat. “You’re gonna have to wait till Friday to hear it from him.”

Amara groaned, “I can’t. The suspense would kill me.”

“You’re the one that said Friday.”

“So I wouldn’t be thinking of work when I’m talking to him obviously.”

Ngozi rolled her tongue on her front teeth. “You do have a point. Anyway, where would you want him to take you? I have ideas you know.”

Amara laughed, “of course you have ideas. Thing is I don’t know if this is a date or just a reconciliation.”

“Take it however you wanna take it, but you’re going to look hot and beautiful.” Ngozi was already working in her head, going through Amara’s wardrobe. Thinking of the makeover she’ll do. “Whatever you’re going for, whether simple or  casual, you know, for bars or the movies, classic and chic for candle light and dinner—”

“We’re not at the candlelight and dinner yet, Zii.”

“Whatever,” Ngozi mumbled. “All I’m saying is,  I will give you the perfect look.”

“I trust you on that. Now, if you could just let me think of… My phone is ringing.” Amara took out her phone from her bag.

“Oh, it’s Amuche.” She picked up the phone. “Hey baby sis, what’s up?”

“For the love of God, big sis. I ain’t a baby anymore,” Amuche replied from the other end.

“You’re still my baby sis,” Amara teased. “Kee kwanu? How are you?”

“I’m good. On my way home.”

“You’re what?” Amara  paused picking the peanuts on in the crystal bowl on Ngozi’s desk.

“I’m on my way to Lagos.” Amuche replied flatly.

“That’s very surprising, Amuche.”

“Yay, surprise,” Amuche waved her hand in sarcasm where she was.

Amara chuckled, “did you tell your mother?”

“That was the whole point of the surprise, Sis. So that she wouldn’t tell me to buy the whole of Nsukka.”

Amara laughed hard, “but you should have told me na. I could have sent you money for a plane ticket.”

“Oh, definitely you’re paying for that when I’m going back for clearance.”

“Of course,” Amara smiled. “Hey, I’m here with Ngozi. Putting you on speaker now.” Amara put the call on speaker and placed the phone on the desk.

“Zii mama, how far na?” Amuche’s deep voice filled the room.

Ngozi laughed, “you haven’t changed a bit, Amuche. I’m doing great. Congratulations on completing your Bachelor’s degree.”

“Thanks, ma. Though the convocation isn’t here yet. Anyway, I know you’d get me a gift.” Amuche chipped in.

“Amuche!” Amara scolded.

“What?” Amuche rolled her eyes. “Are you the one I’m asking for gift?”

“Leave Ngozi alone.”

“Err, Ngozi is right here,” Ngozi faced her friend. “And she’s gonna get you that gift, girl.”

Amara rolled her eyes at her. She probably would have done the same thing if Amuche she were there.

“So, where are you guys now?” Amara asked Amuche.

“Err,” Amuche cleared her throat. “Somewhere in Ore.”

Amara thought for a second before she spoke again. “Somewhere in Ore? Amuche what are you traveling with abi who are you traveling with?”

“Sis, it’s a friend of mine who is using his private car. We left Nsukka pretty early.”

“My God, Amuche. A private car! Is that safe? Why would you travel with someone when the roads are not safe anymore?” Why—”

“Relax, Amara,” Ngozi interjected. She saw that Amara was getting worked up about her sister’s whereabouts. “Amuche, you should have told your sister about this before now, nevertheless, we’re glad you have told us and you’re safe. Be careful the rest of the way. Send the name and phone number of this friend to me. And if you can get the car’s plate number, get it and text to me too.”

“Ok, I will,” Amuche said.

“Alright, see you soon.” Ngozi cut the call before Amara would say anything.

“Why did you do that? I wasn’t done scolding her.” Amara scowled at her.

“Would you like Chinese now or you’d rather go back to the office without lunch?”

“What she did was reckless.”

“Like we haven’t all been reckless,” Ngozi replied. “Cut her some slack. She’s a big girl.” She was interrupted by a notification on her own phone. “Oh look, Amuche already texted the name and number of her friend, as well as the plate number of the car.” Raising her eyes and looking at Amara, she reassured her, “don’t worry, she’ll be fine. Now, let’s get you that lunch so you can head back to work.”

Photo from Google

Amara managed a little grumbling and sent a prayer to God that her sister arrived Lagos safely. She followed Ngozi out of her office to tackle the most pressing need at the moment. Her hunger.