Coincidence II

 

Photo: from Google

“Back to work, back to work. Back to grind. Lord, Jesus, take control,” Amara chanted her mantra to herself. It was another Monday and her tasks for the day were laid on her desk. She checked her emails and responded to the ones that required an immediate response. She also sent out emails to some workers in the company concerning their HMO registration. She loved her job because helping people was something she loved doing. Being a Human Resource manager allowed her to do just that. The hours sped by while work went on and soon it was 12noon. Time for her break. She hibernated her system, picked up her phone, and headed for the cafeteria. The cafeteria was on the ground floor, while her office was on the third floor.

 It was a three-story building. The journey always made her grumble. Finally, she got to the cafeteria and ordered her lunch of jollof rice and plantain, with beef. She saw her colleague, Olaitan, who was one of the few people she trusted in the office, and went to sit with her. They talked about different things while eating. Olaitan finished her meal before Amara and decided to head back upstairs. Since they both shared an office, whatever conversation they couldn’t finish at lunch could be completed at any time. As soon as Amara finished hers, she headed upstairs too. She decided to go through her WhatsApp messages on her walk to the elevator. Of course, Ngozi had replied to her message from the night before.

Ngozi: “you see. I told you he’d follow back.”

Amara: “aren’t you supposed to be applying eyeshadow on someone’s brows?”

Ngozi: “Tinuke and Ella are busy. No one needs my attention now.”

Amara: “My bestie. Boss lady. Baddest make-up artist.😘”

Ngozi:”inasmuch as I love your praises of me. You’re not changing the subject.😒”

Amara: “lol. I had to try.😂”

Ngozi: “So, as I said, I told you he’d follow you back.”

Amara: “Well, technically you said if he didn’t follow back after a week I could unfollow him.”

Ngozi: “He already followed you back.  And he liked your pictures. The next step is to send him a dm.”

Amara: “Zii, I am not sending him a dm. He’d probably think I’m a stalker.”

Before Ngozi could reply, she bumped into someone, walking from the opposite direction, trying to get into the elevator too.

“Ouch,” the man she bumped into exclaimed, rubbing his nose where her forehead had collided with. He had turned around to assess the damage to his nose and glasses too.

“I’m so sorry,” Amara apologized, trying to reorganize herself. Her forehead was throbbing badly too. “I wasn’t looking—” Her speech was cut short when the man turned around to look at her.

“Luc?” she gasped.

Lucas looked as perplexed as she was. Then he did something she didn’t expect, he smiled that gorgeous smile of his and said her name. “Amara, how nice to bump into you again. Literally this time.”

She scowled at him, “Luc, I mean Mr. Maduka,” she quickly corrected herself when she noticed some people were staring at them. “Are you following me?”

“We rammed into each other from opposite directions.” He wrinkled his nose, which might have still been hurting him. “How could I have followed you?”

Amara rolled her eyes at him, “I meant what are you doing here?”

“I think I should be asking you that too.”

“Ugh,” Amara threw her hands up and pressed the elevator button. She didn’t know why she was getting worked up. All she knew was she had to get away from him. She had no such luck as he stepped into the elevator with her.

“Now you’re following me,” she sneered. “What are you doing in the elevator?”

“Going to the third floor,” he pressed the button for the third floor as the elevator doors closed. “Speaking of following,” he continued, “I saw you’re following me on Instagram. I followed you back. Nice name by the way.  And nice pictures too.”

Oh great! Just her luck. Here she was accusing him of stalking her physically while she was the one stalking him on social media. Thanks to Ngozi.

“I err, I…” now she was stammering? “Thank you. For liking the name. And following back too.” Shut up Amarachi. This was going awkward.

“You’re welcome,” he simply said, looking at the elevator doors that were about to open.

 She had the opportunity to watch him surreptitiously. He wore a dark blue suit. It was a three-piece suit as she noticed the jacket inside when he had turned to face her earlier. His shoes were brown and they shone brightly. He had his hands in his pocket. He looked really good. She felt she looked good too. She was grateful he ran into her on a Monday when she was dressed her best. Ngozi would have killed her if she looked like a bag of potatoes. Ngozi-, she had been chatting with the crazy lady about this same person. She ignored everything in her brain that wanted her to check her WhatsApp at that moment. The elevator smelled of him. A rich masculine cologne that screamed expensive. She felt she could inhale that scent all day. She watched him touch his nose again and she couldn’t help but apologize again.

“I’m sorry. About bumping into you and being a bit rude.” She looked at her shoes as she said this. “Does your nose still hurt?”

He chuckled and she could feel his eyes on her. “There’s no problem. And my nose is fine.” Just then, the elevator doors opened and they both stepped out together. They moved in the same direction and Amara was about to ask why he was following her again when he spoke.

“I am here to see a friend of mine, and I believe you work here.”

“Yes, I work here,” she replied. “If I may ask, what’s the name of the friend you came to see?”

“Daramola.”

Amara opened her mouth in surprise. “Mr. Daramola is your friend?” Wow. The dude owns this tech company.

“Yeah, I know that,” he laughed. “I’ll say something nice to him about his, what’s your role here?”

“I’m the human resource manager. And don’t say anything to him about me being rude, please.”

Lucas laughed again and she felt she could listen to him laugh all day. What exactly was wrong with her? First, she could inhale his cologne all day, now she could listen to his laugh. Maybe her brain got fried when she hit her forehead on his nose.

“I’m not going to tell him you were rude. Besides, we met over the weekend and you were anything but rude. I guess you were just a bit upset by the coincidence of our meeting today.”

“I guess I was.” She wondered why running into him upset her. It wasn’t that she liked him. Ok, so she was a little bit attracted to him, but that was it. He was good looking after all. She got to her office and turned to him. “This is where I hustle for my daily bread.”

“That’s nice,” he peeped into the office and noticed Olaitan at her desk. Olaitan raised her head and glared at them. Luc turned back to look at Amara. “I guess I’ll see you around. Definitely this time.”

She gave a wry smile, “ I guess so too.” With that, he continued on to her boss's office. She walked into her office and sat at her desk. She muttered to herself. “I guess I’ll see you around. Definitely this time. Oh I guess so too.” Stupid stupid. Why can’t he just ask for my number? Jeez, why can’t I just ask him for his number?” She hit her forehead with her hand. “Why do I even need his number?”

“Amarachi, why are you talking to yourself?”

Amara jumped. She had completely forgotten about Olaitan’s existence in the office. She had forgotten about her existence on the entire planet. “Don’t do that!”

Olaitan frowned, “what? What did I do?”

Amara rolled her eyes and realized she was the one being weird. “Never mind.”

Olaitan dismissed Amara’s weirdness and grinned widely. “Ehen, who was that fine bobo you were with?”

“He’s Daramola’s friend,” Amara said flatly.

Olaitan raised one eyebrow at her, “just Daramola’s friend?”

“Yes.”

“You’re lying.”

“Hian, how do you know I’m lying?”

“Because, dear Amara, you haven’t looked me at me since you walked in and you were definitely talking to yourself about him, like a girl who likes a guy. So, yes, you’re lying.”

Amara looked up at Olaitan and glowered at her for a second. Then she sighed, there was no point being insufferable. “Come,” she gestured to Olaitan to sit on her desk. Olaitan didn’t wait to be asked a second time before she sprang for Amara’s desk.

“So, Mr. Maduka and I attended the same secondary school. I was just surprised to see him here.”

“Oh wow. That’s great,” Olaitan said dryly. “So you guys were catching up?”

Amara frowned, “not exactly.” I was accusing him of stalking me. But she said instead, “we had already met over the weekend.”

“Oh really. If he is Daramola’s friend maybe he could help us tell Daramola to give us a raise. You already have influence like this.”

Amara laughed, “Laitan calm down oh. Luc isn’t a friend, just an old school mate. We weren’t even classmates. Or in the same set.”

“Then make him your friend. Or boyfriend sef.” She noticed Amara’s baffled expression and quickly added, “what? It’s not like you’re seeing anyone. And the bobo is fine. And you called him Luc. That’s his first name?”

“Lucas. His name is Lucas.” She realized she never did know his Igbo name.

“He has a nice name. I wonder what it means,” Olaitan said.

Amara came out of her thoughts and shooed a protesting Olaitan from her desk. She remembered Ngozi and checked her WhatsApp.

Ngozi: “ok, you’re a stalker. You’re stalking the fine boy. Are you happy now?”

Ngozi: “Amara where are you oh? Don’t disappear.”

Amara just smiled. If only Ngozi knew what had happened. She’d fill her in when she had the chance. Right now, she didn’t want to remember how she had a crush on Luc when they were in secondary school. She didn’t want to think that the old flame might be rekindling. She didn’t want to think of anything that had to do with feelings.

 

Luc thought about saying goodbye to Amara on his way out, but decided against it. The girl had already done enough to him for the day. First, she had rammed into him, causing his nose to throb, then she had accused him of stalking her. Why on Earth would he stalk her? He had been nice to her, when he wanted to tell her to be civil. He wondered why she was antsy, then he had stopped wondering all of a sudden and looked at her briefly.

That was when she did the second thing to him. He found himself agreeing with Chuka again, the girl was pretty. Her Instagram pictures were nice, but she looked nicer in person. She had on a peach colored blouse, tucked into a pencil black skirt that hugged her body. Her black shoes were about three inches high. Then her face, still scowling at him was a sight to behold. With the simplest makeup and a short curly wig, she distracted him. He could have told her she looked pretty scowling, but that would have sounded weird. Instead, he forgot his anger at her outburst and commented on her following him. He knew he hadn’t imagined her embarrassment. That pleased him.

He adjusted his glasses and touched his nose, then she had apologized. When she wasn’t antsy, she was easy to talk to, which was the third thing she did to him. She made him want to talk to her, but he hadn’t come to Dara Tech to see her. He could have asked her for her number, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to need the company of another female. Not after what he had been through in the hands of one. Besides, he knew he’d see the pretty Amara again. She worked in his friend’s company after all. He imagined himself being the stalker she accused him of and getting her number from the employees data base. That would definitely freak her out. No, if he thought he’d need her number, he’d ask her himself. But that was definitely not today. He decided to take the stairs down and avoided her office.

 

***

Mrs. Patricia Eze sat comfortably on one of the brown cushions in her living room. The living room was her favorite place in the house, apart from the bedroom she shared with her husband. With its butter colored walls that had portraits of herself on her wedding day, that of her husband, then both of them together, portraits of her two daughters and the wall clock, the living room was cozy. The center table was made of glass, so were the side tables. She loved the black and white tiles that covered the floor and she made sure it was clean. Well, her daughter did more of the cleaning. The TV was her favorite possession in the living room.

Now, she relaxed on front of it and enjoyed the movie that was being aired on African Magic Epic, while chewing the boiled groundnuts she had purchased on her way back from the market. She picked up one shell and cracked it open with her teeth, then popped the two pink nuts into her mouth. She continued chewing as her eldest daughter walked into the living room and said something to her. She was too engrossed in the movie to make out what she had said. She tossed the shell on the heap of the other groundnut shells on the glass table.

“Mummy! Did you hear what I said?” Amara asked her.

“Ndo. Sorry my dear, what did you say?” Patricia didn’t take her eyes off the TV.

“I’m going out. Won’t be back this night,” Amara reiterated.

“Who are you going out with?”

 

“The only friend I always go out with.”

Patricia glanced at her daughter and scoffed. “That your rich friend.”

Amara rolled her eyes, “her name is Ngozi. I’m staying over at her place.” She adjusted the bag that hung from her right shoulder.

Patricia eyed Amara, “did I tell you I didn’t know her name? I just keep wondering, you have a rich friend, yet you lack some things. Of what use is that friend sef?”

“Mummy! For the millionth time, I’m not friends with Ngozi for her money.”

“I wonder what you’re friends with her for then oh,” Patricia kept chewing her groundnuts.

Amara straightened her baggy shorts and replied stiffly, “she’s a nice person and we enjoy each other’s company.”

“Allow her to introduce you to one of her rich male friends. I’m sure she has a lot of them.” Patricia chipped in for what could have been the millionth time.

“I don’t want her to.”

“I don’t even understand you, this girl. Don’t you like money? You’re a very beautiful girl. Collected correct beauty genes from me, yet you don’t even use it.”

“Mummy, please not this evening again,” Amara was exasperated.

“Better catch one rich guy wherever both of you are going to.”

“Ugh, we’re not even going out,” Amara threw her hands in the air. “Bye mum, she’s waiting for me outside.”

“Hope there’s food for your father and I to eat this night?”

“You can prepare something for you and your husband to eat,” Amara said under her breath, heading for the door.

“What did you say?” Patricia asked.

“There’s rice in the pot,” Amara yelled, opening and shutting the door.

“Buy something for me on your way back tomorrow oh,” Patricia yelled back, laughing. “This movie is very interesting,” she put her attention back to her movie.

Amara kept muttering to herself as she walked to Ngozi's blue Honda CR-V.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ngozi asked as Amara got into the front seat. “Why’s your face like shit?”

“Hmmph. Is it not my mother,” Amara wailed. “Gosh, I can’t wait for Amuche to come back so she can have someone else to pick on.”

Ngozi burst out laughing.

Amara sneered at her, “what’s funny now?”

Ngozi put her palm over her mouth to reduce her laughter. “Every time, your mummy did this or said that. Move out na. Move in with me. Isi mba. You said no. Abeg, no dey complain for my front.”

“You’re supposed to be my friend,” Amara sulked.

“I am oh,” Ngozi kept laughing. She put her gear on drive and stepped on the throttle while Amara kept sulking. “Relax darling, it’s Friday. And we’re gonna have fun.”

“We’re basically just going out to eat and watch movies at home.”

When Ngozi didn’t concur with her, Amara glared at her. “Ngozi Peters, where are we going to?”

“Don’t use that mum voice on me na,” Ngozi responded, like a child caught stealing meat from the pot.

“Ngozi!”

“Ok, fine. We’re going to Cubana. Have a few drinks, have dinner, then dance. No harm done.”

“No harm done?”

“Relax Amarachi. Loosen up a bit. It’s been a hell of a week with you dreaming of Luc coming to your office again since he did on Monday without any luck.”

Amara gasped, “oh you did not just say that.”

Ngozi chuckled, “but you have been dreaming of seeing him again.”

“It has nothing to do with you ambushing me and taking me to Cubana.”

“So you do agree that you’ve been dreaming about seeing him again.”

“Stop using Luc to try to get out of trouble, Madam,” Amara wagged her finger at Ngozi.

“Dang it! I thought that would work.”

“You know I didn’t want to go out. I’m not even dressed for it.”

“You’re with me, dear. Besides, it’s just loud music, a little bit of alcohol, food and some dancing.” Ngozi suggested. “I heard their restaurant is dope.”

Amara snorted, “you heard or you’ve been there?”

“So you know I’ve been there. Big deal.”

Amara folded her arms and rested her back on the seat. “All right. But only for a little while, maybe an hour.”

“Make it two.”

“An hour and thirty minutes tops,” Amara countered.

“Deal,” Ngozi grinned, then glanced at Amara. “We’ll fix you up when we get to there. I also know there’s a boutique with lots of nice stuff.” Then she winked. She connected her phone to the Bluetooth of the car and Riton and Nightcrawlers' “It’s Friday then” filled the car.

“This is definitely an ambush,” Amara said to herself. Her mother would be happy that she’d be getting something this night. She smiled and they both sang along to the song as Ngozi drove to Victoria Island.

Ngozi took Amara to Oxford, the clothing store at Cubana and dressed her up in a black playsuit and a pair of black shoes with red bottom heels. She touched her face with some foundation, mascara and red lipstick. Her short blonde wig was already perfect for the outfit. Ngozi, was already dressed in a short leather black skirt, with a silky off shoulder white crop top that showed off her flat belly. She however bought a pair of white sneakers from the store and complemented her dressing. The two ladies looked magnificent. Amara looped her hand in Ngozi's elbow as they made their way to The Grind, the rooftop restaurant at Cubana. Ngozi ordered them each a glass of Martini first. They sat at the bar and enjoyed the music the DJ played. Ngozi bit on her olive and watched Amara sip her martini reluctantly.

“A glass of Martini won’t kill you,” Ngozi laughed at her friend.

“Yen yen yen.”

Ngozi laughed louder, “by the way, you look amazing. Thanks to me obviously.”

Amara rolled her eyes at her, “thank you, ma. I can’t believe I agreed to an hour and thirty minutes. I’m already bored.”

“Bia, don’t bring this your dull spirit here. It’s a club ish. Get up and dance if you’re bored.”

“Ahh, Ngozi I will kill you when we get home.”

“Yen yen yen.”

Amara was about to lunge at Ngozi when a voice interrupted her from behind.

“Good evening ladies.”

She turned around to tell the man to disappear but she gasped instead in recognition. “Chuka?”

“Wow, I’m touched,” Chuka said, clutching his chest, “she remembered my name.”

She gave a nervous chuckle. If Chuka was here, maybe Luc was…

“I almost didn’t recognize you. You look really gorgeous,” Chuka said. “And your friend too,” he turned to look at Ngozi who was grinning from ear to ear.

Amara offered him something that looked like a smile and tried not to look to the side as someone else approached them. Her eyes didn’t obey her and she looked. It was Luc. She didn’t know when her heart did cartwheels in her ribcage at the sight of him.

“Hi,” she said, completely forgetting Chuka and Ngozi. It suddenly felt like the noise around her had quieted.

“Hello Stranger,” Luc replied with a lopsided grin.

 

Photo from Google

Luc dragged Chuka to the gym on Saturdays or Sundays. Chuka dragged Luc to the club or anywhere he wanted on some Fridays. This Friday was one of those days. Luc had been tired, but he had agreed to go to The Grind with Chuka. There was no backing out of this one. So he had hibernated his iMac, took a shower, trimmed his beard and dressed for the night. Chuka drove over to his place and picked him up, then they both went to Cubana. He had never understood the need for dim lights, maybe it was because of his poor eyesight. But The Grind was always dimly lit with red or blue lights or whatever at night. He followed Chuka and they found a table to sit at. It had red and black cushions set with it. They both ordered a bottle of Chardonnay and if he knew better, he wouldn’t let Chuka drink too much if he was gonna be driving.

“So you didn’t collect her number and you haven’t gone back to see Dara since Monday,” Chuka said loudly, taking a swig of his drink and looking around.

“Why are you reiterating what I have said over and over again?”

“I’m just trying to understand why you’re avoiding her.”

“I’m not avoiding—”

“Oh please, stop deceiving yourself,” Chuka cut him off.

“Pfft. Whatever dude. I’m just not ready to talk to her. I mean, why do I even need to talk her? We just keep bumping into each other. Mere coincidences.” Luc stopped talking when he realized Chuka wasn’t listening anymore, he was staring at something or someone. He looked in the direction Chuka was focused on. Of course, trust Chuka to notice two ladies sitting by themselves at the bar.

“Chuka, stop staring at them!”

Chuka blinked and looked back at Luc, then back at the ladies, before he responded. “At first, I was admiring the lady in them leather skirt and white sneakers, then I decided to look at her friend and I was flabbergasted cos she looks familiar.”

Luc rolled his eyes, “what’s the point of this story?” He really wanted them to order something to eat. He could hear his tummy growling.

Chuka chuckled, “I took my eyes off her for a few seconds then looked at her again, just to be sure. And I’m pretty sure that the blonde is Amara.”

Luc, who was sipping from his glass, almost choked on his drink.

Chuka swallowed his laugh, “ you ok bro?”

Luc kept coughing and tried to clear the drink from his airways. He didn’t want to look, but he did look at the ladies a second time. Damn the club lights, they weren’t helping. He looked closely at the blonde, sure he could only see her side, but he had seen enough of her pictures to know that it was definitely her.

Amara.

She looked different, with the blonde wig and all, but a good different. He didn’t like what seeing her again was doing to him. And why on Earth did he keep bumping into her? At least it wasn’t literally this time.

“Looks like the universe really wants you both to keep seeing each other,” Chuka said, answering the question in his head.

“Well, she hasn’t seen me.” He quickly added when he saw Chuka raise his eyebrows at him. “And I don’t plan for her to see me, yet.”

Chuka scoffed, “suit yourself Lucas. I’m going to talk to the sneakers girl.” Chuka downed the contents in his glass and stood up.

“No wait. Chuka!” Luc threw his hands up in frustration. “He should learn to give me heads up,” he mumbled. He had no idea what to say to Amara yet and he sure as hell knew Amara would ask Chuka about him and he knew Chuka would point to where he was sitting and it would be an awkward thing that he sat alone while his friend spoke to the ladies. Gathering whatever courage he could muster, he stood too and walked to the bar. He heard Chuka compliment the ladies and the next second Amara turned to face him.

“Hi,” she had simply said.

“Hello Stranger,” he couldn’t help but respond, with a smile he didn’t know he had. Ok, he might not have been ready to talk to her, but now that she was in front of him, he knew he wanted to talk to her.

“Ehem,” the other lady cleared her throat and he saw Amara glance at her.

“Uhm, Ngozi, this is Lucas, an acquaintance from my secondary school and his friend Chuka,” Amara said to the lady, hiding her mirth. Then to he and Lucas, “Luc, Chuka, this is my best friend, Ngozi Peters.”

“Why do I get to be the only one introduced with her surname?” Ngozi protested.

Chuka chuckled, “ok, I definitely like you. Anyway, I’m Chuka Ndu. It’s very nice to meet you Ngozi Peters.” He picked her palm and kissed it. Luc did everything not to roll his eyes at his friend. He adjusted his glasses instead.

“Nice to meet you, Chuka,” Ngozi tucked her hair behind her ear, definitely blushing.

“It’s a pleasure, Ngozi,” Luc said, shaking her palm Chuka had reluctantly given up. “The surname is Maduka.”

“I know,” Ngozi laughed briefly before an “ouch” escaped her mouth. Luc thought he saw Amara kick her.

“You know? That’s interesting.” Before he could stop himself, he asked, “would you ladies like to join us at our table?”

“I dunno, Amara really wanted to leave,” Ngozi replied with a solemn face.

“Oh!” Luc tried to hide his disappointment.

Amara gasped, “no. No, I don’t want to leave.”

Ngozi raised her eyebrow at her. “Really? I’m pretty sure that— Ow!”

“We’d love to join you guys,” Amara smiled at him, then looked at her friend who was rubbing her lower arm. Luc was pretty sure he saw Amara pinch her. He chuckled at that. At least Amara was staying. That pleased him.

 

The need to get out of the club suddenly left Amara as soon as Luc asked them to join he and Chuka at their table. She knew Ngozi was just being annoying when she mentioned that she, Amara, wanted to leave. That’s why she had pinched her. Knowing Ngozi, she knew she’d never let her forget this. As they sauntered to the table, Ngozi had laughed at her sudden change of heart and hinted that Amara was acting like a love struck teenager. Maybe she was, but she wanted to spend time with Luc. Chuka looked interested in Ngozi anyway, at least someone to keep Ngozi off her case for the night. They all talked about Cubana, the songs playing, the artistes and how busy Lagos was. Then they had ordered fish and chips, something she thought Luc had been waiting for all night. Not long after their meal, Chuka and Ngozi said they wanted to dance and left she and Luc alone. Finally.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Luc said to her. They were sitting beside each other, so he had to turn to look at her.

“Yeah, what a coincidence,” Amara offered.

 “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re stalking me,” Luc said nonchalantly.

 Amara laughed. “I’m sorry I accused you of following me.”

“You’re forgiven.” He looked at her in a way that made butterflies dance in her belly.

“You haven’t been to Dara Tech since Monday, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

When he didn’t say anything further, Amara blurted out a question not related to their conversation at all. “What’s your Igbo name?”

He looked puzzled for a bit, then responded, “what makes you think I have one?”

“Duh, you’re an Igbo guy. You should have an Igbo name.”

Lucas chuckled. “I’ll tell you if you tell me another name of yours.”

“That’s very easy. My other name is—”

“But I haven’t said my Igbo name.”

Amara cracked her fingers, the sound drowned by the loud music, as she waited for him to speak. Luc was something else. She hadn’t found the word to describe him yet. He might have been shy and quiet in Secondary school, but now he wasn’t so shy. He still appeared quiet, but he could talk to her.

“Ok, I think I have kept you in suspense for too long,” he chuckled, “my Igbo name is Mekibedinma.”

“What?” Amara blurted before she could stop herself. “I’m sorry, I just haven’t heard that name before.”

“It’s ok. I’ve heard and seen more awkward reactions. But my name is unique.”

“Very unique I must say. Wait, don’t tell me what it means, I’ll figure it out.” She closed her eyes and mouthed the syllables of the name. “Something like ‘make sure your neighbor is fine'? Maybe? Or do something nice for your neighbor?”

Luc laughed, “not bad.”

“Yes,” Amara clapped her hands together.

“I didn’t say you got it, I just said not bad.”

“I’ll take that as a win.”

“So, your other name.”

Amara picked her glass and sipped the Chardonnay. “Oh, you lost the opportunity when you shushed me.”

“What?” Luc laughed. “You’re gonna do that?”

“Well,” Amara spread her arms wide, stretching the well.

“You know your boss is my friend. I could easily ask him and he’d tell me. Or I could just hack into your company’s data base and find out. I’m a computer genius.” He paused and thought for a bit. “Now that I said the hacking out loud, it really sounds creepy.”

Amara couldn’t control her giggling. “It is creepy. Very creepy. I’ll save you the stress. My full name is Amarachi Adaeze Theresa Crystal Eze.”

“Wow, that’s a mouthful.”

“We both have mouthful names,” Amara grinned. “Mine, short and simple but four, yours are both unique and one is long.”

“Let’s not forget 'Her Grace’,” he did a mock bow.

“It’s just something I coined from Amara,” she rolled her eyes at him.

“Doesn’t stop it from sounding royal. And cute.”

“You can be annoying,” she laughed.

“And here I was thinking I said something sweet.”

“You’re still annoying.”

“I think I'll drink to that then,” Luc raised his glass and waited for her to touch her glass with his,  before he downed the contents. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him. They had just talked about music, a club and names, but he felt very happy and relaxed. It had been a while since a woman made him happy or relaxed. He was still skeptical about women, about her, but he knew he’d want to keep talking to her. He knew he wanted to see her again. Gone was the apprehension he felt about talking to or seeing her again. Taking out his phone from his pocket, he unlocked it, tapped on the call app and handed the phone to her.

“Let’s make sure when next we see it doesn’t have to be a coincidence.”

Understanding what he meant, Amara took his phone and inputted her number. He expected her to save it herself, but she just dialed the number, waited for it to ring. “You can save it with whatever name you want,” Amara said, handing him back his phone.

He smiled, taking his phone from her. He quickly saved her number as Crystal. He felt she glittered like a crystal. The name was befitting.

“Your friend’s surname, Peters. Is she—”

“Yes, she’s the daughter of the wealthy business tycoon,” Amara interjected.

“Wow.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve had worse reactions,” Amara laughed.

“She’s not really in the tabloids though.”

“No, she’s not, which is a bit weird. As much as Ngozi likes to go out and have fun, she maintains a pretty fair profile, except it’s something very grand.”

“So, she hardly makes posts on IG?”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“And I didn’t see any picture of you both on your Instagram.”

“True, I’m keeping a low profile too.”

Luc grinned at that.

“Just keep us as a secret too.”

“I would have,” Luc said. “Even if your friend didn’t look so domineering.”

Amara chuckled, “that’s Ngozi for you. But I love her and she loves me.”

“I’m glad you two found each other,” Luc rolled his eyes and sipped his drink.

Amara laughed at that. They sat there, talking about other things before they decided to join their friends on the dance floor.