“So is he here to take a three-dimensional photograph of the office?” Mira asked.
Dominic picked up the sarcasm and smiled, but Lauren was oblivious. “Oh no, silly, I asked him to do us the honour of doing Ifeoma’s photo shoot,” she said, sending him a pleading look. “And I’m hoping he says yes to it.”
Mira frowned. “What about Kehinde?” Kehinde was Black Sparkle’s photographer. She had started working there during its early days and always did their photo shoots.
Lauren gave her an odd look. “Mira, Kehinde has just had a set of triplets … do you think she’s interested in cameras right now? I bet you if you headed down to her house and gave her a Canon 1D she would toss it into the ocean. Trust me … I’ve been there, done that.”
After a pause, Dominic said, “I’ll do it then.”
Lauren looked at him. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged, “Sure, I am. I can’t say no, especially when beautiful ladies are involved.” He winked at Mira. She ignored him and he continued. “Besides, I’m not too busy at the moment … this will keep me occupied.”
Lauren hugged him. “That’s very nice of you, darling. OK, so whatever you need let Mira know … she will sort you out.”
Mira widened her eyes at her boss. “Me?”
Lauren curved her bright-red lipsticked full lips into a coquettish smile as she retrieved her handbag. “Yes, there has been a change of plan. I’m taking a break from this project. Consider yourself the boss now.”
“I-I don’t understand?”
Lauren was already at the door. “I’m leaving for London tonight, so I suggest you discuss the contract with Dominic and get to know each other better. You will manage Black Sparkle and report back to me. This is your chance to prove yourself, Mira … show me why I made you my assistant editor. And remember the rules: get ready to leave …”
“… if I don’t deliver,” Mira finished in a trance. She felt dizzy.
Lauren nodded. “Good.” She kissed Dominic quickly on the cheek and left.
Mira stared at the closed door as chills streaked down her spine. She turned to Dominic, half-expecting him to dismiss Lauren’s bombshell. He stared back at her, giving no answers and clearly not intending to. Goosebumps appeared on her forearms, and she began to forget her predicament. She noticed again that the room was filled with his aftershave and felt heady with desire. “Well, Mr Dominic—”
“Dominic,” he interrupted in a low voice. “Call me Dominic and I’ll call you Mira, capisce? That’s a lovely name, by the way. Mira is a giant red star in the constellation Cetus.”
She felt her cheeks flush and was grateful for her brown skin – the last thing she wanted was this dude to see her turn into a human tomato because she was flustered by his presence. Swallowing the lump in her throat she continued, ignoring his question. “… whenever you are ready, call me.” She wrote down her number. “I’d suggest that we discuss your contract now but I’m not prepared—”
“I can see that. That was unexpected, wasn’t it?” He laughed and winked at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll bet on my last naira that you can pull this off. You’re bold and daring and I’m speaking from the experience of that Girl Power speech you gave me a week ago—”
“Please stop interrupting me, Mr Dominic,” she said, although, at the mention of the parking lot incident, guilt enveloped her. “Here is my number, so I’ll see you …?” She let the statement hang, looking at him. He said nothing for some moments and returned the stare. Mira felt the tingling sensation return to her spine. Dammit, tall men can be intimidating, especially tall, dashing men who can light up a firestorm with their sexiness. If he can emit such sexiness with his clothes on, then I wonder what would happen when they are off—
Whoa! Mira stop it! What the hell is wrong with you?
Finally, he took the paper. “OK. I’ll call you when I’m free to talk,” he said as he walked to the door, his hulking frame making everything in the room look small.
She stared at his retreating back, perplexed. “Why don’t you just pick a date so I can be sure I’m ready?”
He stopped at the door and raised an eyebrow at her. “And allow you to prepare your Twenty Questions to interrogate me like some army general? No.”
She raised her chin. “Lauren hired you. You’ve got to do as I ask.”
He grinned. “Well, about that: I haven’t signed a contract so, officially, you haven’t hired me. Until then, I make the decisions and you obey them, lady,” he said and walked out before she could utter a word.
Gosh, I hate this guy.
Four
He called the next day – at six in the morning. Mira had just stepped out of the shower when the phone rang, startling her. She rummaged in her handbag and answered with an exasperated “Hello?”
“I’m ready to sign the contract. Can you come over now?” Even though she could barely hear what he was saying, Dominic’s voice sent a delicious tremor through her. This was getting ridiculous.
She lodged her phone between her shoulder and her ear. “What?” she shouted into the mouthpiece. “I can barely hear you … what is that racket in the background?”
He laughed – or maybe she thought he’d laughed.
She scampered around the room in search of a clear network signal. “What? Where?” In her panic she stubbed her toe. “Shit!” she cursed loudly as the pain seared through her.
“Excuse me?” Dominic said, dimly through the sound of the waves.
“Yes, what? I can’t hear a thing … get away from that ocean, if you don’t mind!” Static, a little silence, and then the noise resumed. Mira frowned. “Hello? Mr Dominic? Are you still there?”
“Can you hear me now?” he said, far more clearly.
“Yes. Where are you? I haven’t been able to make out most of what you’ve been saying.”
“I’m at Coconut Beach in Badagry—”
“What in the world are you doing in Badagry at this time of the morning?” OK, she knew she was sounding hysterical but she couldn’t help it. Badagry! That was almost two hours from Lekki, if the traffic wasn’t heavy. Did he expect her to get in her car and drive that distance on a Wednesday morning, when she had work to do at the office? No way!
“I live here,” he said simply.
“What?” She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. “You live in Badagry?”
He answered with another question. “Hey, are you really serious about me doing this job?”
“For Pete’s sake, why don’t you just come to my office? I thought we agreed to meet there!”
“First of all, we didn’t agree to meet at a particular place; we just agreed to talk. Secondly, no, I can’t come to your office now because I’m working. See what I’m saying?”
“This is ridiculous!” Mira complained. “Wait a minute; are you trying to punish me for what happened in the parking lot? I apologised, for heaven’s sake! And you rejected my money – what was I supposed to do, force it down your throat? Whenever you’re ready, come up to the office! I don’t have time for this.”
She could visualise his shrug when he answered, “Well then, I don’t think you’re serious about me doing this photo shoot, I guess.”
“Fine! Good riddance … I’ve had it up to here with your arrogance! I’ll find someone else to do the job, thank you very much!”
“And tell your boss you fired me because I suggested we meet to sign my contract at the place of my convenience?” He sucked in air through his teeth. “I don’t think she’d like that.”
“Bye!” she spat out furiously and hung up. She was done with this man’s attitude – she would rather eat sand than allow him kick her around like a soccer ball at his will! Who the hell did he think it he was? It was enough that she had been entrusted with the Herculean task of managing a major editorial project – she didn’t need any headaches from a photographer who wanted to give her orders.
But, as she got dressed, her anger waned, and she bega
n to wonder if she had done the right thing by firing him. He was right – Lauren wouldn’t be happy about it. In fact, she would be furious. Sighing, Mira picked up her phone. “Where is Coconut Beach?” she demanded, trying to hide her defeat.
He didn’t taunt her, and she was grateful for that. “Just drive along the expressway and, when you get to the roundabout, call me. I’ll give you directions. Oh, and Mira?”
“What?” She was getting impatient.
“Dress warmly.”
“What?”
The line went dead.
***
She got to Badagry at 10.45am – after spending an hour and three quarters on the expressway. Dominic directed her to a resort called La Greta, and for the umpteenth time that morning she considered turning back, but decided against it. She felt flustered to be taking orders from this man, and she was also upset that she couldn’t fire his dictating arse; with him being Lauren’s nephew, that seemed almost impossible. So she did the next best thing – she called Adeleye and told him where she was and why she would be coming in late. Holding her breath, she drove into the resort and parked in the small parking lot. It was a beautiful gated place with bamboo buildings, palm trees and abundant flowers and greenery. A small sculpture of an African child holding a basket of fruits stood at the entrance, with the sign ‘La Greta: Have a Taste of Africa’ in its hand. She loved it.
She spotted Dominic as she got out – he was standing under one of the raffia canopies, talking to a waiter. He was more casual than before, dressed in a flimsy blue cotton shirt, khaki knee-length shorts and slippers. She waved, hoping her face relayed the crisp, businesslike look she was forcing on it. Because honestly, she didn’t really look businesslike. She was dressed in a tight black skirt that stopped high above her knees, a white tank top with a baby-blue woven cardigan designed for fashion not warmth, and strap-on sandals. Luckily she’d worn lots of jewellery to boost her confidence.
When he saw her he waved her forward, dismissing the waiter. Now what? She walked towards him, the sun’s warmth pleasant on her skin. It was not hot enough to be sweltering and not chilly enough to be cold. But as she approached Dominic tiny sweat spots prickled her skin, and when she finally stood before him she wanted to flee back to the safety of her car. He looked taller than she had remembered, and Mira cursed herself inwardly for not wearing her three-inch heels that morning.
He smiled at her. “Here you are! Thank God you didn’t get lost – I almost called Lagos Area Command to head out and—”
She held up her hand. “Enough with the jokes … they are boring,” she said. Raising her chin to add some height, she continued. “So where are we discussing your contract, Mr Dominic?”
“This way.” He turned and made his way further into the compound. Mira hesitated for a second, and then followed him. So what was she afraid of anyway … it wasn’t like the guy was going to sell her into slavery. Clutching her bag, she battled to keep up with his long strides, her eyes exploring the beautiful surroundings. Freshly mown green lawns and colourful hedges of ixoras, bougainvillea, freesias, pink roses and white hibiscus brightened the pavement. The air was fruity and delicious, filled with the tangy scent of citrus and ripe bananas. Finally he stopped at a large bamboo building with a red corrugated-iron. A yellow board with a picture of a dancing woman and the words ‘La Bonga Tropicana’ stood on the roof. A restaurant, Mira assumed – she could smell the faint aroma of egusi soup, curried stew and fried fish. Dominic parted the beaded curtain at the doorway. “My crew members are having breakfast. We were at it when you called … come in.”
The interior of the restaurant was simple and picturesque – bright-blue walls, white plastic chairs, tables with red-and-white checkered tablecloths. Dominic led her onto a wooden deck in the back yard, and Mira could hear the ocean before she saw it. A few metres from the fence the frothy waves were hitting the shore at intervals, and she could see a few people walking on the beach – hawkers selling cheap ice cream, soft drinks and beer, children playing on the smooth white sand, splashing in the water and laughing. The beach was outlined by a large grove of coconut trees that extended into the horizon, and she could see a few houses far to the east. A gust of wind sent a shiver down her spine – now she realised why Dominic had suggested she dress warmly. Wrapping her useless cardigan around her, she followed him to a table where a man was eating a meal of fried potato chips and roast tilapia. “Mira, this is Rufus, my friend and co-photographer,” Dominic said.
Rufus scrambled to his feet as he shook her hand firmly. “My pleasure,” he said with a polite grin on his face. He was slightly taller than her and had thick muscular arms, a clean-shaven head and bushy beard, small eyes and dimpled cheeks. Mira liked him instantly.
“Hello.” She smiled back.
“The famous Mira,” Rufus said as they sat down. “You’re the same Mira who busted my friend’s car at Cocoa Burn, right?”
“Rufus,” Dominic coughed.
Embarrassed, Mira nodded. “Yes, but it was an accident.”
Rufus grinned. “We’ve heard so much about you—”
“Where’s Ajoke?” Dominic interrupted, changing the subject.
Rufus jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “She’s outside … said something about making a phone call,” he smiled at Mira. “Ajoke is our make-up artist. She says the weirdest things sometimes, so don’t take her too seriously.”
Dominic laughed. “You know what she’d do to you if she heard that.” He turned to Mira. “Ajoke is a sweet girl. She’s just, well, you know … alternative.”
“Yeah, alternative with her tattoos and gothic rock,” Rufus said. “All that oyinbo music with loud guitars and mad wailing … no offence to the alternative but I’m an Afro juju fan for life. Bring on the drums, trumpets and marijuana.” He raised a fist. “Long live King Fela of Kalakuta Republic!” he declared, before bumping fists with Dominic. They both laughed, and Mira joined in – she was beginning to feel more comfortable with them. They made small talk about Fela’s music for a while, and then Rufus stood up. “I’ll leave you guys to discuss your business. Take care, Mira.” He bowed and walked away, mouthing, “Dude, I like her!” to Dominic.
They watched him as he walked away, his white cotton shirt billowing out in the wind. “I like your friend,” Mira said. “He seems nice.”
“He is,” he smiled warmly. “What about me? Don’t I deserve a compliment from Her Majesty too?”
Her face suddenly felt hot and she remembered why she had come here in the first place. She brought out the file with the documents. “I think you should sign the contract now … I’ve got to get to the office.” She changed the subject in a curt voice.
He looked at her with his gorgeous eyes, and she felt her insides melt. “Wouldn’t you like something to eat?” he asked, ignoring her suggestion. “Bose makes the best jollof rice and fried plantain.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I have to get back to—”
“Live free, Mira.”
She read the judgemental tone in his voice and drew her head back; the words were like a sharp knife waved before her face. “Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’ve been going on about getting back to your office. Forget the office. Loosen up, feel free. Life is too short to bother about work alone … there are many beautiful things to see and enjoy. Like the ocean, and this scenery. But, most of all, having a nice warm meal.” He nodded at a teenage girl cleaning a nearby table. “Bose, abeg bring one plate of jollof rice and fish,” he said in pidgin english.
“Rice no dey, e don finish,” The girl responded. “But fish pepper soup dey sha.”
“Get that then.”
“I don’t want anything,” Mira protested, but the girl was gone. She turned back to him. “Look Mr. Dominic, this is invasion of my privacy—”
He raised an eyebrow with a little smirk. “Invasion of privacy? Lauren suggested we get to know each other better.” But he looked solemn.
“Anyway, I’m sorry if I am intruding.”
“Yes you are, and I don’t like it. This is not a social occasion … this is business and I intend to keep it that way.”
“Business,” he repeated.
“Yes, So respect that and …”
She stopped as Rufus reappeared with a waifish young lady in baggy jeans and a Rockers T-shirt. She was pretty and light-skinned and had long cascading braids, grey eyes and a large pretty mouth. She was chewing gum as they approached the table, and Mira noticed a strange expression cross the lady’s eyes when she spotted her. It was too fast to comprehend, and now was replaced with a dry look as Rufus introduced them.
“Ajoke, meet Mira, Dominic’s new boss. Just to let you know, she’s like the coolest girl in the world.”
Ajoke popped her bubble-gum, regarding her with curiosity. “You’re the girl from Black Sparkle?”
Mira grinned, although she felt awkward at the girl’s blatant staring. “Yes.”
“And you’re also the chick who totalled Dominic’s car?”
“Ajoke,” Dominic groaned, burying his head in his hands.
Mira smiled although her hands balled into fists. Thankfully they were hidden away on her lap under the table. “Well, yes. But for the second time: I didn’t total his car. It was an accident.” She sent him a sideways glance. “Clearly he didn’t tell you that.”
“I did,” Dominic said. “I’m so sorry they keep bringing that up.”
“Huh,” Ajoke said as she sat down, her eyes still on Mira. “You’re definitely not what I expected.”
“What were you expecting?” Mira blurted out. OK, to be honest, Miss Ajoke was weird. The girl’s questioning made Mira feel ruffled, and she glanced at her arm and noticed the goose bumps laced across it. Ajoke’s eyes were hawkish and steadfastly fixed on her, making Mira feel edgy. Mira hated it when she was being cross-examined. Besides, she was supposed to be the boss here, not the other way around. But then she realised how crass her voice had sounded and apologised. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound that way … ”
Black Sparkle Romance Page 3