by Kiru Taye
When she lifted her lashes, her eyes glittered like topaz gems. He’d always thought she had intelligent eyes, part of the reason he’d hired her. Of course, she had also been well qualified for the job. He’d never regretted that decision. She was one member of his team he didn’t want to lose. Her efficiency and energy added sparkle to his work life.
An idea took root in his head, and he let it germinate.
“Sir ... Are you okay? Do you want me to come back later?” Ebun asked. Her soft voice laced with concern, her flawless toffee-toned face screwed up in a frown.
“No. Stay. There’s something I wish to talk to you about,” Kamali said, waving to the chair in front of his desk.
No better time than now to discuss the idea in his head.
Ebun could be the solution to the problem giving him a headache at the moment. He knew no one else who could play the role well. He certainly wasn’t about to hire a stranger. Even the thought alone made bile rise in his stomach. He wasn’t going to impose a stranger on Fari.
He changed his mind about having the conversation at his desk and grabbed the reports. “Come with me.”
He strode over to the bank of comfortable sofas he used when he entertained guests at his office. He’d never invited Ebun to sit there before. But it would suit their conversation this afternoon.
Chapter Six
Kamali strode from his desk towards the leather couches. He moved like a cat, fluid and agile. He always seemed uber confident.
Ebun never tired of watching him. She yearned for a day when she could strut about with such assuredness.
Then again as the CEO of one of the largest companies in Africa, he had to be bold and capable.
He lowered his body onto the sofa and placed the file he’d been reading on the coffee table, his legs spread in a masculine pose.
Heat flushed her body as she sat opposite him and tried not to stare at his groin. She focused her gaze on her notepad and the laptop she’d retrieved from her office safe.
“The conversation we’re going to have today is strictly confidential. It might sound unusual, but it is also covered by the Non-Disclosure Agreement you signed at the start of your employment,” he said.
She raised her head to meet his gaze. “Of course, Sir.”
All their conversations were confidential. She never discussed them outside of the office. That was one rule of being an assistant and working at an executive level. Discretion was important.
“I mean that no one else must know of it until I’m ready to announce it,” he said.
“Oh. Does that include the other directors?” she asked, concerned about his emphasis.
“Yes. One matter is at a sensitive stage, and until the contract is in the bag, it is best to only let key people know.”
“Okay,” she said as warmth crept across her chest. He considered her to be key personnel above the other members of his leadership team. “I won’t discuss this outside this room.”
“Good. You remember that yesterday I had a meeting with Henry Coker and Ike Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“They’ve invited me to partner with them for a major construction contract in Gabon.”
“That’s great news.”
“It is. As you know from our expansion plans, we’ve just acquired a cement factory in Gabon, and we’re merging it with our operations, so this deal has the potential to boost our revenue and put DC ahead of all the other Danladi subsidiaries.”
“That would be fantastic,” Ebun enthused.
The companies under the Danladi Group umbrella were very competitive when it came to the bottom line. The staff of the best performing firm in the group always got rewarded with extra bonuses. Also, she’d recently found out that the CEO whose company has the best performance over the decade would be in line to become the group chairman when the current one retired.
“It would be. But first, we need to make it happen. That means presenting a competitive and quality bid.” Kamali lifted the file in his hand. “I’ve been looking at the numbers. We‘re going to have to increase production for this project. I need you to contact the Head of Production and find out if we have the capacity to increase production by ten percent to cover this extra requirement if needed.
“Sure.” Ebun typed out a note on her laptop. “So you think Coker Construction is going to win the bid?”
She stole a glance at Kamali. He’d seemed a little distracted earlier. Now his gaze was fixed at a point beyond the windows.
“I hope so. This project will help to boost our bottom line over the next three years. While sales are currently steady, the general economic outlook for Nigeria which currently is our biggest market is poor. The construction industry is on a decline. So we need projects like this.”
“True.” She nodded.
With a new government that had reversed most of the policies initiated by the previous government, foreign investors had withdrawn, leaving the economy flagging. Danladi Cements had a presence in other African countries, but Nigeria consumed the lion share of annual outputs.
“Also, I’d like a report that has a comparison model between the wholesale price and a special price point that will give us maximum profitability for the project.”
“I can do the report,” Ebun said. She’d designed a financial model that already had their productions costs plugged in, all she had to do was add other variables, and the program would do its thing, and the output would be colourful graphs and projections. “I’ll have it to you by the end of Monday.”
“Good.” he nodded.
She thought he would push off the sofa to indicate the end of their meeting. But he didn’t move.
“Was there something else, Sir?” she asked.
“Yes.” He tapped the tips of his long, slender fingers on the top of the table and looked up to meet her gaze. “I have a proposition for you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. There was something in his eyes. A look she hadn’t quite seen before. A mix of determination and ... desire? No. It couldn’t be. She had to stop projecting her ludicrous fantasies onto him.
She coughed as heat rose to her cheeks. “A proposition?”
“Yes. I have a problem, and you are the solution.”
She shifted in her seat. “Okay. I’m listening.”
“My cousin Henry is getting married in two weeks.”
“Yes, I know.” She tilted her head to the side and raised her brows.
She’d been the one that had accepted the delivery from the courier when it had arrived. She had opened the scented, gold envelope to reveal the intricately designed, iridescent gold gate which encased the royal navy cotton card and the gold cursive fonts. Special care had been taken, and no expense had been spared with the stationery.
“Do you have anything planned for that week?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. I’m going on a holiday. I booked to travel to South Africa.” Her shoulders lifted as she shrugged dismissively.
Ebun hated Christmas. Not necessarily the original reason it was established but what it had come to represent—over indulging decadence and greed. It was one of those times of the year when she wanted to crawl into a dark hole and hibernate. Or better still, jet off to a holiday resort where no ostensible relatives could get their clammy claws into her.
Spending time with family stood equivalent to being in Hell. Her family sucked.
Her relationship with her mother had deteriorated. And don’t get her started on her father.
As far as she was concerned, she didn’t have a family. So since she started working, she saved up all year so that she could disappear during the Christmas break. Last year, she’d gone to the Gambia for a week and had come back to Lagos in the New Year. This year she’d planned to spend the week at Sun City resort in South Africa. All she needed was a suitcase full of books, beachwear, and party clothes.
“I want you to cancel your booking because I have a favour to ask.”
“A favour?” Her
traitorous heart leapt at his mention of the word.
Kamali’s brooding features—the stern line of his full lips, the angular jutting of his cheekbones, the arched sweep of his dark brows, the shadow darkening his chin and square jaw. Nothing on his face indicated he was about to impart good news to her.
“Yes, a business deal. You help me out of a tight situation, and I compensate you for your time.”
Her heart sank into her stomach, and she clenched her hands, her nails digging into her palms.
“I’m listening,” she replied, glad her voice remained calm.
“You get on well with Fari, don’t you?” he asked her, his black eyes boring into her.
She usually kept good eye contact with people, but something in the depth of Kamali’s eyes made her look away. It was as if he could see her thoughts. She swallowed a gulp of air and nodded.
“Yes, she’s a sweet girl. I love spending time with her.”
Fari had shadowed Ebun during the week she’d spent in DC for a school project.
“That’s good because I need you to travel to the Katsina with me for my cousin’s wedding,” Kamali said, watching her as if gauging her response. Her skin prickled with heat.
“Why?” she asked, the idea of going anywhere people will be celebrating the festivities not sitting well with her. Then again, the Danladi were Muslims, so it shouldn’t matter.
“I need you to act as my fiancée while we’re in Katsina.”
She bolted upright as adrenaline surged through her body. “Did I hear you right? You want me to act as your fiancée?”
She might have dreamt of being Kamali’s fiancée and wife a few times. But this? She obviously hadn’t heard him well.
He leaned back in his chair. Without a suit jacket which he wore often, his lean muscles strained against his cool cotton light grey shirt.
Last night she’d been pressed against those muscles for the briefest moment. Yet the memory of their hardness lingered, making her skin tingle.
One of the buttons in his shirt wasn’t quite in the hole.
An urge to lean forward and pop the button fully in made her fingers itch. She bit her lower lip, tasting the strawberry gloss instead.
“I know how it sounds,” he said. For the first time, she saw his eyes glimmer with frustration. “The thing is, my mother seems to think it is time I moved on and remarry. I happen to disagree. So to prevent her from trying to match me with every single woman in Katsina, I’m opting to take pre-emptive action. That’s why I need you to act as my fiancée.”
He spoke rapidly, as if uncomfortable with making the request and in a rush to get it over and done.
Ebun understood his problem. She appreciated his need to live a life free from interference from family. She’d run away from her mother for the exact reason.
A chill went down her spine. She couldn’t afford to get entangled with him.
She remembered last night when he’d said he wouldn’t get married again. Last night that he’d rejected her invitation to her apartment.
Ebun dug her nails into her palm. Her stomach hollowed out, feeling as if he’d punched her. Her heart constricted in pain. She lowered her lashes, covering her eyes to prevent him from seeing the pain in their depth.
She sucked in a deep breath and blurted out a quiet and defiant, “No.”
“No?” He sounded shocked. He was a man nobody would turn down.
“No,” she repeated.
“Why not?” His eyes narrowed as he shifted position.
She could tell him that she didn’t owe him any explanations. She could remind him of last night when he’d left her at her doorstep. He hadn’t given her any explanations. So why in Hell should he get any now?
“I told you I’m going on holiday. I’m entitled to the time off.”
In truth, she would have to cancel the holiday and get a last minute deal to a different location. The original booking had been for her and Jonah. After last night she didn’t want to end up in the same holiday destination, afraid of what he would do to her.
“You can reschedule the holiday and be compensated for it.”
“I’m not interested in your money.” Her voice had a sharp edge. Yesterday she would’ve caved in, done anything which involved spending time with him. Not after last night.
A loud silence descended, clanging like an alarm bell.
Kamali’s eyes narrowed. His features hardened, making his cheekbones prominent like the jagged edges of a cliff. “Give me a good reason why you won’t do this.”
She shut her laptop and placed her notepad on top of it to give her time to think. The man was persistent. He wouldn’t have attained his position if he wasn’t a determined person.
“I can give you several reasons. One, being your pretend fiancée isn’t part of my job description. Two, I already have plans. And three, I don’t like family get-togethers.” They only reminded her of the family she lacked.
“Really?” The concern in his deep voice made her look up at him. A frown creased his forehead, worry lines visible along his eyes.
She nodded, not wanting to read anything into his concern. He could be worried he’d have to find someone else. It wasn’t her business.
“You hid it so well. I thought you had fun last night at Henry’s party.”
She puffed out a breath. “They were mostly strangers, and I didn’t have to try too hard to please anyone. Hanging around with a bunch of people who claim to be family is a whole different ball game. Not a good idea.”
She shrugged and typed her password into the screen prompt to login to her laptop. She needed to refocus on her work. It was the one thing she could rely on. The one stable thing in her life. It kept her grounded, and provided a salve to her worries.
“Family is everything to me,” Kamali said in a quiet voice. “It’s the thing that grounds me, no matter how high I climb in other spheres of my life. It’s the foundation that supports my growth. Good or bad, my family made me the man I am today. I can’t even imagine a future without them.”
Ebun’s lungs constricted, and her throat tightened painfully. Hot tears stung her eyes and she lifted her hands and swiped her eyes to brush them away.
She’d had a dream once. A dream of a family that wanted her, that loved her—father, mother, siblings, husband and children. She’d wanted it all, wanted to be loved and to love in return.
This was part of the reason she’d become obsessed with Kamali, this devotion he had to his family. She had yet to meet a man who could rival him in that department.
The only problem was that she wasn’t part of his family.
She swallowed the tight lump in her throat. “So, your family have potential brides waiting in the wings in case you don’t have one of your own?”
His eyes widened, and a smile played on his lips. “Yes. I love my family, but they can be a bit much sometimes.”
She puffed out a heavy sigh. Silence settled between them for a few seconds.
“Ebun,” her name was a plea on his tongue.
It was the first time she’d heard him say her first name. She wanted to hear it from him more often.
She heard his deep, resigned sigh and looked up. He was looking at a framed picture of Fari on his desk. The look of parental adoration on his face tugged at her and squeezed at her heart.
“There isn’t anyone else I can ask. And I don’t want to hire a stranger who doesn’t know Fari already. Fari likes you. That makes you the best person.”
“I don’t know,” she said, her heart warring with her head.
She loved Fari and didn’t mind spending time with the girl. But spending time with Kamali when she knew it would never get anywhere? And having to put up with a throng of people, when she’d rather be on a deserted beach?
“You’re the best person to do this. You will be doing me a big favour. And I will pay extra for your time.”
“How much exactly is this bonus?” she asked. There was no harm in finding out.
Kamali told her a figure.
Ebun gasped, her mouth open. It was actually larger that the figure she had in mind. He must be determined. Or desperate.
Kamali was never desperate. He was a shrewd business man and usually won any business negotiation to suit his requirements.
She would settle for determined.
For that amount, she could put up with his family for a week. It wasn’t as if they were her family. And after the week she wouldn’t see them again. She would have to train her heart not to get distracted by her boss.
Not wanting to give him an opportunity to change his mind, she stretched out her hand for a shake.
“Deal,” she said and started calculating what she could do with the money—a holiday abroad, a deposit for a new car or some stock investment.
Kamali took her hand into his large warm hand, slender fingers wrapping hers in a firm and purposeful grip.
On contact, a warm tingle travelled up her arm like static. She lifted her gaze and connected with his for a brief moment.
A startled look flicked in his eyes. He must have experienced the same sensation.
Her pulse skyrocketed.
Breaking the eye contact, he released her hand.
“Pack clothes suitable for city as well as countryside. You’ll need to contact my mother to find out the colour theme for the family at the wedding. You’ll need a dress to match. Make the flight arrangements. I’ll pick you up on the way to the airport on the day.” He was back to being brisk and business-like.
Ebun nodded, scribbling on the notepad the things she needed to get done. A wedding and festivities? She’d bought clothes designed for the beach. She would have to make sure she had suitable attires for someone supposed to be Kamali’s future wife.
With the extra bonus he was giving her, she could afford to splurge a little to look the part. Excitement coursed through her.
Yet a thought filled her with dread.
How was she going to cope with Kamali’s mother and the rest of his family when under scrutiny?