Bound to Favor

by Kiru Taye

  Her elation deflated as she sat back in her chair. This wasn’t going to be an easy assignment.

  Chapter Seven

  “It’s over. I told you already.”

  Ebun had managed to avoid Jonah since the night at Reams due to his work commitments taking him away. This morning he’d shown up at her apartment unannounced.

  “And you haven’t given me a good reason to end a two-year relationship,” he groused as he shifted to the edge of the sofa.

  “How about the fact that we are not going anywhere?” She raised her hands in exasperation. “You said that you didn’t want to get married.”

  “So did you.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “You can’t just fucking change your mind overnight.” He shot off the chair, paced to the window overlooking the balcony and braced his hands on the edge. “Did you suddenly wake up and realise your biological clock was ticking or something?”

  “Fuck you, Jonah. I don’t have to justify myself to you!” She stood akimbo, glaring at him.

  He swivelled, hands balled by his sides. “You can’t just fucking dump me!”

  “Who are you that you can’t be dumped? The effing king of Scotland?”

  His face puffed up, turning red, his eyes bulging. His hands looked like hammers he would use to smash her for her insolence.

  Adrenaline spiked through her, and her shoulders tightened. She should probably try to appease him.

  But she wouldn’t back down or show fear. This was her house. And a car was on the way to pick her to take her to the airport for her flight to Katsina. Her luggage was packed and stacked against the living room wall.

  He smoothed his right hand over his hair and pointed his left index finger at her travel case. “You’re ditching a holiday we booked weeks ago?”

  “I can’t avoid it. My boss needs me to travel with him to Katsina,” she replied. She only owed him an explanation because they had both paid for the holiday.

  “You are entitled to a holiday.” He glared at her.

  “I’ll still get the holiday. Not this coming week, though.”

  “What about me?” he asked in an accusing voice.

  She rubbed her ear as a guilt pang hit her. While she would be reimbursed by Kamali for the cancellation, Jonah would lose money if he decided not to travel.

  Taking a deep, pained breath, she closed her eyes briefly. “You can still go. Pete is going too, isn’t he? I’m sure the two of you will have fun out there.”

  Her phone on the table buzzed. She grabbed it and checked the message.

  “It’s not the same fucking thing.” Jonah grabbed her arm and snatched the phone from her. “It’s your goddamned boss again.”

  “It’s just a message that the car is downstairs. Ouch.” Her wrist hurt where he held her. “Give me back the phone.”

  “I don’t care if there’s a fucking private jet downstairs. You’re not going anywhere.” His grip on her arm tightened as he held the phone high above her head.

  Her skin overheated. “What are you talking about? The car is downstairs. I have to go, Jonah.”

  Kamali probably sat in the car, waiting for her. She hated being late for anything. She reached for the phone again.

  “Don’t do this, Jonah. Please let me go,” She chose to plead as a means to appease him. She didn’t want to keep Kamali waiting. How was she going to get Jonah out of her apartment? She should never have opened the door for him.

  “No. You think because I let you leave from the restaurant you can do whatever you like. I’m a busy man but I make time for you. Yet, whenever your boss calls you go running. You don’t drop everything for me.”

  “Come on, Jonah—” The door buzzer distracted her. “I have to get the door.”

  “Who’s that?” he asked as they glance at the entrance to her apartment.

  “It’s probably the driver who was assigned to pick me up.”

  “I’ll talk to him. Wait here.”

  He strode to the door, but Ebun followed him. Her pounding heartbeat grew loud in the ears. Her body flushed hot, and her gut hardened.

  Jonah twisted the handle and yanked the frame open.

  Ebun let out a panicked gasp as she saw the man standing in the well lit hallway.

  Kamali’s wide shoulders nearly filled the doorway. He wore a fitted black shirt with navy jeans and Chelsea boots. A frown creased his face as he stared at her and Jonah.

  “Ebun, what’s the delay? Have you forgotten we have a flight to catch?” Kamali’s voice was stern to match the displeased expression on his face.

  “Sir ... I’m sorry,” she said in a weak voice. A flush crept across her cheeks, and sweat beaded her eyebrows. “I was just getting my things.”

  She avoided Jonah’s glower as she walked to where she’d left her luggage.

  He didn’t take the hint though. He crowded her into the corner and held her arm in a vicelike grip. “If you go on this trip, you’re going to pay for it, big time. Mark my words.”

  “Let her go,” Kamali said in a low, menacing voice that stopped Ebun’s heart. She’d never heard him speak like that before.

  “Who are you to tell me what to do?” Jonah snapped, all pretence now gone.

  “She’s my fiancée. Let. Her. Go.”

  Ebun gasped as her heart lurched.

  “Your fiancée?” Jonah spat in a derisive tone and dropped Ebun’s arm as if it bit him. “I knew it. All the time you claimed to be working. Now I know what kind of work you were doing. You’ve been fucking him. You’re going to pay for this.”

  He tossed her phone on the floor where it clattered. With another glare bouncing between Kamali and Ebun, Jonah stormed out of the door.

  Ebun slumped against the wall, her heart beating fast, her body trembling.

  Kamali didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then she heard his footsteps across her hard flooring before she felt his presence beside her.

  A burst of anger went through her. “Why the hell did you tell him that we were engaged?”

  “We have to go. We’re already delayed.” He ignored her question, grabbed the big suitcase and swivelled towards the door.

  “Dammit!” she shouted. “I’m not going to have another man treat me like shit today. Once is enough. So unless you answer me, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He froze, and for a few heart-thumping seconds, she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he swivelled and took a step towards her, his stance imposing, commanding and ferocious.

  “I told him you were my fiancée because you are my fiancée,” he said in a voice like a whip.

  “But I didn’t want to tell him. Our arrangement is only for the week, and only your family are supposed to know.”

  “You really think that the CEO of Danladi Cements getting engaged is going to stay quiet for long, even if it is fake news? How naive can you be? What do you think he would’ve said when he saw on the news that you were engaged or read it online? Tell me that?”

  True. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’d assumed she would just spend the week in Katsina and return to her normal life afterwards.

  “Fine. I should’ve told him.”

  “You should’ve. And more to the point, you can’t see him again.”

  “I can’t? Why?” She had ended things with Jonah even if he wasn’t taking it well. But she didn’t want Kamali dictating whom she could date or not date.

  “Same reason you should’ve told him. You can’t date someone else while you’re engaged to me.”

  He swivelled and walked out of her apartment, dragging her suitcase along.

  Chapter Eight

  Silence filled the car interior on the ride to the domestic airport and the private jet on the tarmac. Once they boarded the plane, Kamali chose a separate seat instead of the one opposite Ebun.

  He hated lies and deceit to the core of his being. It had been the major devastating thing that had ruined his marriage. Finding out that the wom
an he’d married had lied and deceived him for years had ripped his heart in two.

  He had never forgotten, nor forgiven.

  He certainly had no tolerance for any other woman lying to him.

  Falsehoods seemed to roll off Ebun’s tongue with relative ease.

  Hadn’t she implied she wasn’t in a relationship with Jonah the night of Henry’s engagement party? Yet, the man had been in her apartment today, weeks later. What other reason would Jonah have to be there?

  Walking into her apartment and seeing the man touch her, and the urge to rip the man’s arms had overtaken Kamali.

  The thought of violence had never tainted his anger before today. The same anger still simmered in his blood.

  This was why he was keeping his distance from Ebun. He needed space to calm down. They were supposed to be arriving at his family home as a happy couple who had recent gotten engaged.

  That wouldn’t work if he was still pissed off at her.

  Chapter Nine

  The flight took almost two hours. Kamali sat on the aisle seat adjacent, two rows away. For most of the flight, he read a business magazine. It seemed he was still angry with her since he hadn’t said anything after they’d boarded the plane.

  Ebun tried to ignore him by reading a book she’d brought.

  Strangely she couldn’t. She sensed his presence throughout the flight even when she wasn’t looking at him. She couldn’t shake her body’s constant humming—an effect equivalent to when she’d had too much caffeine.

  Warmth spread through her, and the dull ache grew with each passing minute in his presence.

  In the office, she remained aware of her surroundings, and the code of conduct required from her.

  Now, she was supposed to be his girlfriend, and she was out of her depth.

  What limitations and rules applied here?

  Kamali’s mother needed to believe they were engaged. Kamali needed everything to go smoothly. She didn’t want to screw this up.

  As the plane taxied to a stop, Ebun took a deep breath and exhaled to squash her anxiety. She’d signed up to do this and she wasn’t a quitter. She would do her best to keep to her side of the bargain.

  When they exited the terminal, they were met by a man who Kamali introduced as his mother’s driver. The car was an SUV big enough to accommodate all of them and their luggage.

  Ebun and Kamali climbed into the back. The interior proved spacious enough that Ebun could sit in her corner without any accidental contact with Kamali.

  They travelled in a convoy of two cars with armed security men.

  Her phone rang and she scrambled in her bag to pull it out. She didn’t recognise the number.

  “Hello,” she said after she pressed the answer button.

  “Hello. Is this Ebun Forson?” The line crackled with noise, but the voice was masculine and African sounding.

  “Yes. Who is this?” she asked, not recognising the caller.

  “My name is Tunji Atta,” he replied. The line crackled again.

  Her heart thudded hard in her chest. She glanced sharply at Kamali who seemed to watch her and turned to face her window. “Sorry, the line is bad and I can’t hear you properly. Who did you say you were?”

  More crackling and then movement and then it quietened. “Can you hear me better now?”

  “Yes, I can. Sorry. Who are you?” She wanted to believe the bad connection had made her misinterpret the caller’s name.

  Thanks to her dual-SIM phone, she could retain her UK mobile number as well as the Nigerian one on the same phone.

  “My name is Tunji Atta. You probably don’t know who I am but I’m Oladipo Atta’s first son.”

  She gasped as adrenaline flushed through her body. It couldn’t be. She only knew one Oladipo Atta.

  The man who had been the centre of her universe once upon a time.

  The first man she’d fallen in love with. The first man to break her heart.

  Her father.

  Which meant the man on the phone was her brother. Her older half-brother.

  It couldn’t be. Her mind must be playing tricks on her.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” the voice on the phone crackled, pulling her out of her thoughts. She must have been silent for too long.

  “Yes, I’m here,” she replied. “I’m just a little shocked. How did you get my number?”

  “I know it must be a shock. I’m currently in London for a visit and I contacted your mother. She gave me your phone number. But it sounds like you’re not in the UK at the moment.”

  “No. I’m not.” She didn’t volunteer her location until she understood the full reason for his call. “Did you say my mum gave you my details?”

  “Yes. My father wanted me to contact you,” he said.

  She wanted to shout into the phone that the man he referred to was also her father.

  “He called your mother a few times but she hadn’t been forthcoming. So I said I would get in touch with you during this trip to London. Can we meet if you’re coming back to the UK soon? I’m here until next Sunday when I return to Nigeria.”

  That was the date she was due to travel back to Lagos from Katsina. But the fact that he wanted to meet her got her attention. Her heart used her chest like a drum.

  “You want to meet me? Why?” Why now, she should ask. He must have known of her existence for years.

  “Because you’re my sister. I think it’s time for us to meet, for the past to be forgiven. Father is getting old. He wants to see you.”

  Adrenaline rushed through her body. Her father wanted to see her again. After almost thirty years.

  She should be overjoyed. Yet there was tightness in her chest and a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  She didn’t want the pain of rejection again, and the debilitating disappointment and despair.

  “Well, I’m not in the UK right now and I don’t know when I’ll be back. Will it be okay to take your number and call you in a few days when I have more time to talk?”

  She pulled her notepad from her tote along with a pen.

  “Of course, whatever works best for you?” He rattled off his number. “I know you need time to digest this. But please call me. Dad will be happy to know I spoke to you and he’ll be keen to speak to you as soon as possible.”

  She tapped the pen on the page she’d scribbled the digits. “Okay. I’ll call you soon.”

  “Good. Take care of yourself, Ebun. I look forward to hearing from you soon.”

  “You too. Bye.” Slowly, she lowered the phone and checked to make sure the line had cut off.

  Her arm felt heavy, her body weighed down with rocks. She blew out her cheeks and then released it. Everything crashed in on her.

  The fight with Jonah this morning, Kamali’s anger, her brother’s phone call plus the fact that she was only minutes away from meeting Kamali’s mother as his fake fiancée overwhelmed her.

  Becoming light-headed, she broke her out in a cold sweat and struggled to breath.

  “Ebun, are you okay?” Kamali’s deep and concerned voice penetrated through her hazy mind, sounding distant.

  She tried to speak but no words formed. Her ears rang and black spots formed in her vision.

  “Lean forward,” Kamali instructed as she felt more than saw him unclip her seat belt. “Put your head between your legs.”

  She obeyed instantly, taking in deep breaths to get the freezing air of the air-con in her lungs.

  A cool hand settled on her back, rubbing gently.

  Kamali.

  The soothing tingle on her hot skin gradually overtook the queasy sensation in her stomach.

  The car had stopped moving. She hadn’t heard him instruct the driver to stop. Lifting her head, she turned to look at him.

  Worry lines creased his jagged features, pulling his brows together in a frown.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked her gently, concern laced his voice.

  His worry for her well-being made her heart squeeze tight.
She ached for him. For what could be but would never be.

  She straightened up, leaning back into the soft leather. She had to pull herself together. She hadn’t had a panic attack since she’d been a teenager dealing with the loss of her father, never knowing if she’d see him again.

  Now, news from her father had triggered an episode.

  “I’m sorry. I had a panic attack,” she replied, averting her gaze.

  This wasn’t the right time to get lost in the intense, dark depths of his eyes. She needed her wits about her.

  “Don’t be sorry. Why did you have a panic attack? It had something to do with the phone call, didn’t it?” The pained expression, the wrinkled brow, the palm that cupped her shoulder all displayed his genuine concern.

  A lump caught in her throat and her voice sounded croaky when she managed to speak again. “I used to have panic attacks when I was a child, after my father left us. I would get overly anxious.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” His hand continued to massage her shoulder, taking her tension away, making her want to share the burden she’d carried for so long.

  “That phone call was from my half-brother. I’ve never met him. He said he wants to meet me. He said that my father wants to see me. After thirty years.” She choked as tears spilled from her eyes.

  “Now, I understand.” Arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into his solidity and cocooning her in safety. “Your father was a fool for abandoning you.”

  Who was this compassionate and tender Kamali? Where was the brooding, angry man from earlier?

  She swiped her face and leaned back before shrugging. “He had two strapping sons who would inherit him and another beautiful daughter who was probably better behaved. I was just a loose end he didn’t need messing up his lovely family.”

  “You can’t think that. Every child is important.”

  “I don’t feel important. I wasn’t important to my father. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have left me.”

  “As I said he’s a fool.”

  “Perhaps.” She pulled her compact mirror out of her bag. She grimaced when she saw the smudge of mascara. “Oh great. Look at my face. And I’m only a few minutes away from meeting the queen of Katsina.”