Coincidence VII

 

Photo from Google

Birthdays were one of the most important celebrations in life for Ngozi Peters and she never took them for granted. She made sure friends and family were happy on their birthdays. If she could make others happy on theirs, then it’s safe to say she has to be ecstatic about hers. As her important day drew close, she planned what could be her best birthday party ever with her best friend. When the birthday came, Amara made sure she sent her a birthday cake and some gifts. Ngozi had called her to scream at the wonderful surprise. It made Amara happy that her friend was happy. Even Lucas had called Ngozi to wish her a happy birthday. They had both silently agreed to lay down their weapons. It pleased Amara even more.

Ngozi had planned that her party would be the Saturday after her birthday and it lazily came by. All the necessary arrangements had been put in place for the boat cruise. They’d take the route for about two hours then dock on a private beach resort, before returning on Sunday. Amara and Amuche had gone to Ngozi’s place on Saturday to help her put things in order. It was almost time for them to leave and they were in the living room putting away the leftover souvenirs. Amuche packed bathing suits, hats, shorts, and tank tops, just in case they felt like dipping on the beach before they left. Amara was dressed in a pink sundress with an asymmetric neckline.  Amuche's was pink too, with a sweetheart neckline. Ngozi wore an off-shoulder white dress with red roses on it. It was a flowing long gown, with two slits in the front, at the right and left. Something to make her stand out as the celebrant. 

“Normal humans would opt for a normal party,” Amara began. “But no, Ngozi Charlotte Peters will go ahead and decide it’s a Birthday boat cruise that she wants.”

Ngozi stared at her through her dark shades. “But Amarachi Crystal Eze knows that I’m not normal.” She looked at Amuche, “what are her other names again?”

Amara snickered as Amuche laughed. “Yeah, you’re anything but normal. You’re a baby girl for life.”

“And, as a baby girl for life, I deserve a boat cruise after the tedious year.”

Amara laughed, “tedious year where?”

Ngozi threw a pillow at her. “You know what I mean. And I thought you were excited about this as I am?” Ngozi inferred thoughtfully.

Amara felt a bit bad for making Ngozi feel guilty. Of course, she was excited about the boat cruise. How often can one be invited to a boat cruise in a lifetime? Oh, she looked forward to it. 

“Please, I’m excited about the boat cruise,” Amuche soothed. “Don’t mind Amara.” She glared at her sister. “Amarachi, what’s wrong with you?”

“Oh my love,” taking Ngozi’s hands in hers, Amara cajoled, “of course, I am excited about it. Don’t you know when I’m trying to guilt-trip you again?”

Ngozi tittered. “I guess it’s the jitters about the party. It’s the first time I’m trying this boat cruise.”

“Awww. It’ll be great. I’ll be there. My super hot boyfriend will be there.” She laughed when Ngozi rolled her eyes at that. 

“Wahala for who no get boyfriend oh,” Amuche smirked.

“My dear,” Ngozi said to Amuche, “she hasn’t let me hear the last of it. My boyfriend this, my boyfriend that. Luc this, Luc that. Hope he’s behaving himself?” She wrinkled her face at Amara.

“Zii, today isn’t about Luc, but you,” Amara replied.

Ngozi waved her hand, “true that. But is he?”

“Luc is amazing,” Amara responded. “Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. Chuka will be there.” She looked at her sister.  “Amuche and those rich friends of yours will be there. Your party will be the bomb.”

Ngozi shook herself and gave her usual deathly smile. “My boat cruise is gonna be the bomb. I’ll have mad fun and I won’t let anyone ruin it for me.”

“That’s my girl.” Amara clapped her hands.

“We could go skinny dipping,” Amuche interrupted and had the satisfaction of them glaring at her. “Yes, I’m glad I could get your attention. Now, if you two are done being mushy, can we get going?” She strolled toward the front door.

“Yes, we can.” Ngozi put her hands in the air and screamed. “To the boat cruise!” 

When they arrived at the dock at Ikoyi, Ngozi’s guests were already there. The boat was gorgeous and white. It looked capable of accommodating about 40 people. Ngozi exchanged pleasantries with some friends before getting on board. Amara found Lucas and Chuka and coerced them into carrying the souvenirs to the boat. Amuche bounced joyously behind them. Once they were on board, the bouncers checked the invitations of the individuals present at the dock, to screen those that weren’t invited. About 30 minutes later, the boat sailed on the beautiful waters of the sea. The moon was full and it glistened on the water. Stars were scattered all over the sky and the sea did a very good job portraying their beautiful reflections. Ngozi invited about 20 people, who could bring plus ones. 

The boat cruise continued going smoothly. The music in the air had everyone dancing, singing, and playing games. There was enough to eat and drink. Amara couldn’t help but admire everything. The Kampari tours, the people they had employed to plan the boat cruise outdid themselves. The cruise route was from Ikoyi to Ilashe. Of course, Ngozi had also paid for a beach house at Ilashe where they could spend the night.

 She and Luc were in each other’s arms. They danced together, played games together, and so on. Amara watched Amuche have fun too, then stole a glance at Ngozi, the queen of the night. She smiled and then whispered to Luc that she had to use the bathroom. She excused herself, unknown to her that she was being followed. When she was finished, she sauntered to the sink to wash her hands. The bathroom door swung open and someone walked in. She continued washing her hands, not in the least bothered about the intrusion.  If she raised her head and looked in the mirror above her, she could see who walked in. 

“Well, if it isn’t the lapdog of the rich brat,” the individual who walked in said.

Amara snapped her head up and saw the face of the owner of the voice in the mirror. Even if she hadn’t raised her head, she’d recognize that voice anywhere. Still staring at the reflection, she mouthed, “Beverly?” Her red playsuit had a plunging neckline. Amara thought she spotted a tattoo just above her left breast.

“In the flesh baby,” Beverly smiled.

Amara spun to face her. Of course, Beverly had a few inches on her, but she faced her squarely. And yes, it was definitely a tattoo. Was it a dragon? “What are you doing here?”

Beverly scoffed, “about to use the bathroom, like you just did.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Well, if you insist, I’m enjoying the party.” Beverly had seen Amara leave the party and had followed her. She looked like a cornered animal.

Amara folded her arms, “I sent the invitations, you were not invited.”

Beverly laughed. A deep throaty laugh that made Amara grimace. She liked Amara’s reaction. “You sent invitations to people who could bring plus ones, remember.”  She went past her and stood in front of the mirror. She took out a tube of flamethrower from her bag and applied it on her lips.

Amara watched Beverly apply her lipstick and she swallowed. She looked gorgeous, dangerously gorgeous. “Ok then, you’re a plus one. Enjoy the party.” She turned to leave but halted in her step at Beverly’s next words.

“I see you and Lucas are cozy.”

Amara turned to look at her, “So?”

“You know he’s mine,” Beverly shot daggers at her through the mirror. “No matter what crumbs you throw at him, he’ll always be mine.”

It was Amara's turn to laugh, “Excuse you? Lucas isn’t yours. And stay away from him.”

Beverly scoffed, “And why would you think I’d do just that because you said so?”

Amara folded her arms and simply said, “if you have a little bit of respect for yourself, you would stay away from him because he’s my boyfriend now.”

“Your boyfriend?” Beverly fumed.

“Yes, Beverly, my boyfriend.” Amara was getting tired of the conversation. “You had him and you treated him like trash. Now that he has a chance to be happy with someone, you still want your claws on him.”

“You’re no longer as shy as you used to be,” Beverly noted. “ Anyway, doesn’t still change the fact that you’re a lowlife.” Beverly checked her perfectly manicured nails. Of course, they were red too.

“A lowlife? How has that got anything to do with this conversation?”

“Yes, you’re a lowlife. Sucking up to the Peters’ child to get somewhere in life. Clinging to Lucas cos he is wealthy now. But you’ll still be that scholarship girl.”

“What did I ever do to you? Why have you always disliked me, right from secondary school?” Amara asked her. “And what has ever been wrong in having scholarships?”

Beverly scoffed. Why would she tell Amara that she had been jealous of her then? Why would a lowlife be so intelligent that she had the scholarship to study at a school meant for wealthy people? It had always pricked her. Now, the same lowlife was rolling with the wealthy. Because of her, Ngozi Peters looks at her with disdain. As if that wasn’t enough, she saw how Lucas looked at Amara and held her hand during the party. He had never looked at anyone like that, except her. The look was even more powerful than the one he used to give her. She hated Amara and wished her to disappear from the face of the Earth.

“You don’t exist to me,” Beverly finally said.

Amara counted to 10 to calm herself. She imagined dragging Beverly by her long braids to the rails and throwing her overboard. She imagined sharks tearing her apart. That made her smile.

“Why are you smiling?” Beverly asked her, clearly distressed by the malicious grin.

“I don’t have time for meddlers or jealous freaks.” 

“I’ll make you pay for the embarrassment at the Peters' party,” Beverly grabbed her by her upper arms and shook her. “Then I’ll make you wish you didn’t set eyes on Lucas.”

Amara jerked away from her. “Are you threatening me?” 

“Call it whatever you want, but you’ll wish you didn’t cross me.” Beverly sneered.

“You’re a sick, psychotic human,” Amara drew back and willed herself to leave the bathroom. She walked as fast as she could away from Beverly. Still shaken by the weird encounter, she went up the boat, where she could be alone. She wasn’t in the partying mood at the moment. The air was fresh and it helped calm her nerves. She rubbed her upper arms as the night breeze raised the hairs on her arms. She didn’t even think of taking the sweater she had brought. She hoped Beverly hadn’t followed her out here. She wasn’t sure how she’d act and the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene and ruin Ngozi’s party.

“There you are.”

Amara spun around at Luc's voice. He looked beautiful in the night sky. His blue long-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned and folded to the elbows and a white polo was inside. He wore cream-flowered shorts and a pair of pumps. He looked like a Greek god in the moonlight. She licked her lips. Partly because they were parched and because she liked what she saw. The glass of wine he held in his hand made her thirsty, amongst other things.

“You’re staring at me,” Luc said as he sauntered towards her.

“I am?” she feigned innocence.

“Yes, you are.” He got to her and lazily planted a soft, slow kiss on her lips. “There, been wanting to do that all night.”

She grinned, “what took you so long?”

“Because we were surrounded by a lot of people I don’t know.”

She laughed, “you’re so shy.”

“Yes, I am.” He glanced around. “This spot is nice.”

She mumbled an affirmation and took the wine from him. She gulped it all.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Why do you ask?”

“You look a bit shaken.”

“You just kissed me.”

“You glow when I kiss you.”

She gave him a small smile. “Fair enough. I’m a bit cold I guess.”

He took off his shirt and put it over her before she could complain. “I know it’s not a coat, but it’s something.”

She accepted the shirt and hugged it closer to herself. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Your Grace.” Luc bowed to her.

She put her hand on her forehead and laughed. “You won’t let me hear the last of that would you?”

“Nope.”

Amara hugged Luc’s shirt. It smelled so much like him, a scent she adored. She traced her finger on his biceps. “Strong, lean muscles. Remind me to thank your trainer. He is a boss.”

He chuckled and placed the wine glass on the table close to where they stood. Taking her hand, he pulled her towards the chaise lounge beside the table. He sat down and made her sit on his lap. She fit perfectly. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“I bumped into Beverly.” She blurted out.

“Beverly’s here?” Luc asked, dumbfounded. “I thought this was strictly by invitation.”

“Yeah, she’s a plus one. Someone Ngozi invited brought her. Maybe the same person that got her into the Peters' party.”

“What did she say to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She caressed his bearded chin.

“Crystal…”

“Trust me, it doesn’t matter.” She shut him up with a kiss. She felt like she was living in a movie. She was kissing the man she had come to love under the stars. A song played in her head, “you and I” by John Legend. It did feel like it was just the both of them in the world. Beverly and her threats had faded. The music from the party down deck had faded. She forgot about everything else as the kiss deepened. She let her tongue part his lips and she delved in. He tasted like red wine, sweet and delicious. She heard something escape from her own throat, a tiny moan. She bit his lower lip and used her tongue to caress the spot. Luc moved swiftly and she found herself on her back. His hands traveled to her thighs and a sweet sensation shot through her entire being. He took his mouth away from hers and traveled to her neck, her shoulder, while she moaned and dug her fingers into his back. She anticipated more…

“Oh my gosh!” A voice shrieked.

Amara bolted up and spun her head in the direction of the voice.

 Amuche.

“I need to un-see this. Can I un-see this? How can I un-see my elder sister making out?”

“Drama queen,” Amara snickered. Luc pulled her up and straightened her tousled hair with his fingers. She liked that he didn’t look embarrassed, even though she knew he was. She straightened her gown and wore the shirt Luc offered.

“Hi Amuche,” he said to her sister.

Amuche, who had spun around quickly when she had seen them, turned slowly to look at them. Her palm over her eyes. “Are you all covered up now?”

“We were covered up before you walked in on us and ruined the moment,” Amara spoke through gritted teeth. She could still feel Luc's hands on her and his mouth on her. She tried not to groan at the memory.

“Ngozi said to come to find you.” Amuche said, taking her palm away from her eyes.

“Shit, how’d I forget it’s my friend’s party?” Amara slapped her hand on her forehead. 

“Cos your boyfriend’s tongue was down your throat?” Amuche offered.

“Ok, you’ve found me, you can leave now,” Amara looked at Luc who was chuckling at what Amuche had said.

“There’s more,” Amuche continued. “She said Beverly is here.”

“I know. She ambushed me in the bathroom.”

“What? And you didn’t come to find me?” Amuche accused.

“It was barely ten minutes ago. I came up here immediately, then Luc…” Amara couldn’t finish her statement. Luc put his arm over her shoulders. It was more like a support and she was grateful for it. 

“You never did tell me what she said to you,” Luc said to Amara.

“I told you, it’s not important.”

Amuche rolled her eyes. “All well and good that you both are loved up, but my favorite birthday girl said she has an idea of how to throw Beverly overboard without anyone knowing.”

Amara smiled. Then the smile faded. She might have fantasies of throwing Beverly overboard, but Ngozi’s won’t be just fantasies. She had a feeling Ngozi would act on them.

“We have to go!” She tugged Luc and ran downstairs, Amuche trailed behind them. “Hey, wait for me.”

As soon as they got below deck, Beverly blocked them with a malicious grin. “Hi, Luc.”

Luc locked his fingers with Amara’s and kept her by his side. “Hi, Beverly.”

“You never did return my calls.” If Beverly could shoot fire from her eyes, she would have. She couldn’t stand their hands together. Or the fact that Amara was wearing his shirt.

“We have nothing to talk about,” Luc said. “You’re here with someone right?” He looked around, searching for whomever she came with.

“Yes, a friend.” She moved closer to him. “Although I’d like—”

“Back off bitch,” Amuche, who had been quiet behind Luc and Amara, came between Beverly and them and pushed her back.

“And who the hell are you?” Beverly asked, disgusted. “Take your filthy hands off me.” She brushed Amuche’s hand away.

“The sister. Of the pretty lady you are harassing,” Amuche gave her the most polite smile she could muster. “Now, shush away. Except you want the celebrant to throw you out. I will help her.”

Beverly scoffed, “throw me out? We’re on a boat, she can’t throw me out.”

“You’d be surprised at what I can do,” Ngozi said from behind her.

Beverly spun around and found Ngozi smiling. Only, the smile wasn’t a friendly one. She stared at all four of them and knew that they were serious. No, scratch that, Ngozi was serious. She could throw her overboard. 

She swallowed. “You haven’t heard the last of me.”

“Oh for goodness sake, can she walk the plank now?” Ngozi asked Amara but pointed at Beverly.

Beverly sneered at them. Before she walked away, Ngozi came close to her and whispered. “I don’t want to see you when we get to land. Disappear. Don’t come close to the beach house. And one more thing, I don’t want to see you anywhere near Amara. If you hurt her, I’ll end you.”

“I’m not scared of you, little Peters.” Beverly faced her squarely.

Ngozi gave a lopsided grin. “You should be. Now, enjoy the rest of the party.”

Beverly stalked away.

“I need to find out how she keeps coming to my parties. Who keeps inviting her?” Ngozi spat. Her look immediately changed when she walked over to where Amara stood. “Are you ok?”

Amara threw herself at Ngozi and engulfed her in a bear hug. “I’m so sorry. It’s your birthday and I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ngozi jerked Amara. “This is the best birthday ever! I got to threaten someone on my birthday. Never happened before. Besides, no voices were raised. I do wish I got to feed her to the sharks,” she had this dreamy look in her eyes.  “Anyway, let’s go get a drink and have fun.” She put her hand over Amara’s shoulders and took her away, leaving Luc and Amuche behind. Luc's mouth was agape.

“Your mouth is wide open,” Amuche said to him.

“Your sister’s best friend is terrifying,” Luc said.

“Yup, she is,” Amuche agreed.

Luc faced Amuche. “You offered to throw Beverly overboard too.”

“I did.”

Luc sighed. “I think I need a drink too.” He strolled away thinking about how he was surrounded by crazy women. Where was Chuka?

“Oh great, they left me alone,” Amuche threw her hands in the air and went in a different direction in search of her fun.”

They arrived at the beach house sometime before midnight. Ngozi showed her bouncers a picture of Beverly and told them to look out for her. If she was anywhere in sight, they had orders to throw her out or do to her whatever they wanted. Of course, she didn’t tell Amara that. They each picked out rooms to stay in. Amuche, who didn’t want her packing of bathing suits to be in vain made sure she took some laps in the pool at the beach house. The rest of the party was drama-free and fun-filled.  They left Sunday morning.

“You’re glowing, Amarachi,” Olaitan said to Amara immediately after she stepped into the office. It was the Monday after Ngozi’s cruise party. “I guess boat cruises are good for you.”

Amara laughed, “Laitan. You flatter me.” She straightened her black pencil skirt before sitting at her desk and arranging it absentmindedly.

“But I’m serious, I mean,” she gestured with her fingers, “look at that sparkle. That glow.”

“Well, it was a fun outing. Minus the drama, but we missed you.” She took out her phone from her handbag which was on her desk and checked for new messages.

“Aww, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it,” Olaitan began, “my cousin's wife's niece’s cousin would have killed me if I had missed her wedding.”

“I don’t know how you keep up with such relationships,” Amara abruptly stopped giving her phone attention and grimaced. She was sure she heard cousin more than once. “Cousin’s wife’s gini?”

Olaitan waved her hand and chuckled, “don’t worry. Wait,” she sat upright, “you said something about drama. What happened?”

Amara didn’t want to think about Beverly or talk about her. She sighed.

“Amara?” Olaitan probed. “You don’t want to tell me?”

Amara glanced at her and sighed again. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, I just don’t want to ruin my morning. Talking about it might bring a bitter taste to my mouth.” She gagged.

Olaitan smirked. “Really?”

Amara laughed. “Okay, I’ll tell you.” She narrated the scene with Beverly and the scene at Ngozi’s parents’ anniversary party. And for it to make sense, she had to tell Olaitan about Lucas. Olaitan was a good listener. A few, “ohs” and “ahs” at strategic moments to boost Amara's morale.

“Woah!” Olaitan widened her eyes at the end of the tale. “My first comment is, YOU. NOW. HAVE. A. BOYFRIEND.”

“Shhh!” Amara shushed her and stared at the entrance. “Not so loud.”

“Whatever! And it’s the hot guy from your secondary school that I met some weeks ago.”

Amara scratched a surprising new itch at the back of her right ear.

“And you’re just telling me now. I should be angry, but I’m not. I’m just happy for you. Does Daramola know?”

And the mention of her boss, Amara jumped. “No, he doesn’t. And don’t tell him.”

“Like, I’ll calm down and walk up to Daramola to talk to him about your love life? Why would the most interesting subject be your love life when I can bring up salary increment?” Olaitan eyed Amara.

Amara scratched her ear again and apologized. “Okay, I’m sorry. You wouldn’t do that.”

Olaitan smirked, “better. Anyway, it’s your decision whether or not you want to tell him you’re dating his friend.” Then she grinned. “It’s like I’ll hangout with you guys very soon. What Ngozi did to that Beverly girl on both occasions sweet me die.”

They both burst into a tumultuous laughter going over the details again.

“Ladies, what’s going on here?” A voice from the door interrupted their mirth.

They both sat upright and straightened themselves, “Nothing, Sir! Good morning, Sir.” They said in unison.

Daramola, whose hands were in the pockets of the trouser of his notch lapel navy blue suit raised his eyebrows at them. “That didn’t sound like nothing from a mile away.”

Amara scratched her ear again and Olaitan imitated her.

“Anyway,” Daramola faced Amara, “I want you in my office now.” With that, he strolled out of their office.

 Amara's heart sank to her belly. It felt like all the joy from few moments ago had been zapped away.

“Amara, are you ok?” Olaitan asked. “You look like you’re going to be sacked.”

If only it would be just that, she’d be pleased. No, she can’t be pleased to lose her job. But then, it would be better than listening to Daramola hit on her over and over again. Because that’s what had been happening. No matter how many times she said no, Daramola still found a subtle way to tell her just what he wants to do to her if she’d give him the chance.

She sighed and answered Olaitan. “I’m fine, I just got hungry suddenly.” She got up and tried to regain her composure. “I better go answer the boss.” She managed a toothless smile and sluggishly walked out of the office.

She got to Daramola's office and paused at the door. “Lord give me strength,” she prayed silently before knocking.

“Come in,” Daramola called from inside.

She opened the door gently and stepped in. His office was purely masculine. A huge mahogany desk that took up the centre at the far end dominated the room. It was brown and filled with files, a stapler, a fountain pen, a jotter, a cup of coffee and an iMac Daramola tapped on swiftly. If he leaned back, he’d be able to see the blue sky from the floor length window. There was a dark walnut bookcase at the right hand side of him, probably filled with books on coding and how-to-make-your-employee-date-you. The air conditioning didn’t make the air less hot for Amara. She kept her eyes busy and admired the soft leopard rug underneath the desk. She eyed the coffee colored leather sofa at her right and the coffee table. She heard a slurping sound and swirled around to find Daramola perusing her under the rim of his cup. She met his eyes and didn’t break contact.

He placed the cup on the desk and smiled at her. “You look gorgeous today.”

“Thank you,” she replied flatly.

“Come. Have a seat.” He gestured to one of the two seats facing his desk.

“I’m fine where I am,” she wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.

“Okay,” he sat back in his chair, “I’ll get on with it then. I need you to accompany me to a dinner with a client on Saturday.”

“Excuse me, Sir?” She folded her arms. “That has never been part of my job description.”

“It is now.”

Amara puffed, “but, Sir—”

“Call me Daramola,” he interrupted.

She threw her hands in the air. “Daramola, whatever, I can’t go with you.”

He leaned forward and his tone changed. “You’re going and that’s the end of this conversation. You’ll dress nicely and show up on Saturday. I’ll email you the location. No, scratch that. I’ll pick you up—”

“I’d rather you don’t, Sir. If you feel I should be present for this dinner with a client, I’ll find my way there. By myself.” She tried not to hiss.

“Then you’ve agreed to accompany me.”

Amara rolled her eyes at him. How had she fallen into that trap?

“You know what? It’s fine! If you’d rather come on your own, as long as you’re there. Remember, look nice.”

She shook her head, “why do I have to be at this dinner?”

“Cos I want you to be there. Now, don’t look so glum. I promise I don’t bite.” He smiled maliciously.

Amara swallowed hard and tried not to gag. “if that would be all, Sir.”

“Daramola,” he corrected again. “And yes, you can get back to work.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

Amara stormed out of his office. She could feel him smiling at her back. As she walked to her office, she had a feeling this “dinner” he talked about had nothing to do with business. Something prompted her to tell Luc, but she felt she could handle Daramola on Saturday. There was no need disturbing Luc about it yet. After the dinner, she’d tell him that her boss and his friend was becoming unpleasant to work with. It would be better if he told Daramola himself, right? 

“I don’t even know what to think anymore,” she muttered to herself. One dinner with her boss and a client wouldn’t hurt, would it?