He looked distressed. “I don’t …” he began.
“Mira is right,” Zaram suddenly cut in, and all eyes turned to the teenager. She pointed to Ajoke. “That woman tried to kill her. I-I was outside the storeroom when they went into it, but they didn’t see me because I was crouching behind the bushes. She hit Mira with a stick and I saw her leaving the room just as the fire started.”
Ajoke let out a hoarse laugh. “And, why should we believe this little twat?”
“Because she’s telling the truth,” Mira said. Then she spotted something and her mouth curved in a smirk. “And remember, this is a big hotel, Ajoke. There are surveillance cameras everywhere.” She pointed at a camera stationed on a building opposite the burning storeroom. “I bet that camera has everything on its tape to prove you’re guilty of attempted murder. You’re going down, Ajoke. You’d better believe it.”
Ajoke stared at her for a long time, her face expressionless. Then without warning she raised her hand and hit Mira across the face. “You stupid bitch!” she yelled, as Mira fell to the floor. Lade, Sade, T.J. and Adeleye rushed to help her up, while Dominic and Rufus angrily grabbed hold of Ajoke.
“What is wrong with you, Ajoke?” Rufus demanded in a gruff voice. “Are you insane?”
Ajoke, choking with tears, glared at Dominic. “Can’t you see she’s lying, Dominic? She’s a lying scheming bitch, and you will never be happy with her! Don’t you understand?”
Dominic shrank away from her. “I think I do now.” He looked over at Rufus. “Don’t let her go anywhere,” he said. The latter nodded solemnly, tightening his grip.
Then without a word he turned and walked towards the police officers standing a metre away from them.
***
After Ajoke’s arrest, the police stopped the interrogation. The firemen successfully extinguished the blaze and people began to disperse, exhausted from the excitement of the evening. Sade and T.J. went to get the car while Adeleye and Lade went to the bar for cold drink. Lauren went to settle the damages with the management and Rufus left the hotel. Dominic placed his arm around Mira, warm and reassuring, and they walked in to the hall. Mira couldn’t hold back the tears as she looked at the hall that had once been beautifully designed for the event. Now it was a shambles, the walls blackened with soot, the concrete floor wet with puddles. I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t plan to have the launch interrupted by a fire! What happened to the plan? She watched helplessly as the paparazzi snapped away, each wanting to get the best picture. She imagined the headlines on the front pages of the gossip rags the next day and her heart fell. The media were always on the prowl for news, and with a fire outbreak during a launch attended by all the celebrities in Lagos, they would be singing Hallelujah praises.
And all this was your fault, Mira, Her Rational Mind blamed her.
Sadly, she agreed. Although she wanted to blame Ajoke’s psychotic obsession, she couldn’t fix all the blame on her. I played a part in this too. I should have been cautious. That day at La Greta, I shouldn’t have ignored the attraction between them – Ajoke’s weird comments, the way she looked at him, the way she looked at me. She recalled a certain photo shoot where she had seen Ajoke zoning out whilst gazing at Dominic with a strange look on her face. At the time she had been puzzled by it, but then she had been distracted and had forgotten about it.
The cool breeze blew a torn cover of the new magazine near her feet. She picked it up; it was slightly singed at the edges. She stared at the glossy cover. Ifeoma Ogendu stood between two sloping palm trees, her hands planted on her hips, with a radiant smile on her face. Her hair billowed in the wind, and the blue and gold dress looked magnificent. We did a great job. The whole crew did a great job.
The voice came back again: Yes, you made this happen, Mira. You showed how talented and hard-working you are, but what was the end result? A fire outbreak, that’s what. An event that turned into mayhem, with a mass of stampeding people, a magazine burned before its debut at the newsstands – because you let your emotions rule your head. Bring back the old Mira Adaora Dike, the focused woman with set goals.
Bring her back, and everything will be alright.
Dominic took the cover from her shaky hands as they walked out of the hall. “You shouldn’t look at this … it’ll just make you feel worse,” he said. She shook with a sob and he kissed her softly on the forehead. “I’m so sorry, Mira. This was supposed to be your big night.”
“Everything just seems surreal. One minute I am excited about the launch, the next I am almost getting roasted in an inferno. I still can’t believe it.”
He sighed. “I wish I could take it all back.”
She stewed on that for a moment, and then looked up at him. “Do you really?”
His eyes narrowed. “Of course … why would you think otherwise?”
“Because I know about everything, Dominic, and if you really feel apologetic about it you should have told me a long time ago.”
He stared at her for a heartbeat, then his shoulders slumped and he buried his face in his hands. “It was just one night,” he said, his voice heavy with despair. “I-If I had known she had feelings for me … I swear I wouldn’t have done it.”
“But you did,” she said. “I really don’t care about your past shenanigans with her, but the fact that I almost lost my life because of such a trivial act makes me sick.” In the distance she saw the girls driving towards them. It’s now or never, Mira, her Rational Mind said to her. Taking in a deep breath, she said softly. “I can’t put my life in danger because of your secrets, Dominic, I just can’t.”
He noticed the tone in her voice. “Mira, please, not here. Not with all that has happened. Let’s find somewhere—”
“No, here’s fine. I’ll be quick. We can’t be together, Dominic. I’m sorry.”
His face was pained. “Don’t do this. Please.”
“I don’t see a future between us. This was no more than sexual attraction that developed due to our work together, and it meant nothing. The time we spent together, the sex … all of it meant nothing.” The words felt starchy in her throat as they tumbled over each other. “It’s over. Goodnight.” The car arrived before he could reply, and she slumped into the backseat and shut the door on him, forever. She couldn’t do this any more.
She had had enough misery for one day.
Fifteen
It was two months after the fire and the tabloids and the public had forgotten about it; there were enough happenings in Lagos to overshadow arson at a magazine launch. Black Sparkle did the same, trying to move beyond the disaster. The office was closed for two days and sales were halted. The crew visited the injured and their families with cash tokens and Lauren covered costs for their medical expenses. The week was also spent receiving goodwill messages from fans and staff at other magazines. But, as the days slipped into weeks and months, things returned to normal and the company reopened business.
Mira did the same. Her ankle had almost healed and she returned to work in the third week, eager to move on with her life. She didn’t mention the break-up to anyone, not that anyone cared; the office was busy trying to recuperate. Thankfully, Lauren never mentioned her relationship with Dominic, and, as the days passed by, Mira began to forget about it – until T.J. and Sade confronted her. They had been wondering why she no longer mentioned him and they kept bringing it up no matter how she ignored them. She finally told them one morning at breakfast. They looked more shocked than sympathetic, staring at her like wooden effigies. Sade was the first to speak. “You’re joking!”
Mira shrugged. “I’m not. I broke it off.” And she told them everything. They listened quietly, both their faces confused.
T.J. breathed loudly. “My goodness.” She folded her arms across her chest, forlorn. “I don’t even have a comeback or swearword for the guy … I honestly liked him.”
“So that’s it?” Sade asked tearfully. “You’ll never get back together again?”
Mira smil
ed mirthlessly, without needing to answer.
“But you two were so perfect together!” Sade wailed. “Christ, this sucks. I’m going to bake before I lose my mind.” She hurried away to the kitchen.
T.J. pushed away her breakfast and hung her head, muttering, “This shouldn’t happen to you, Mira, not you. You’re a good person. Why should you experience such crap, why? Ki lo de, what is this?”
At least my friends feel sorry for me, she thought wryly to herself.
But now, as she sat in her office, she thought about it. Had she overreacted? It seemed easy to blame Dominic for his secret and the danger it had posed to her life but why had she really called their relationship off? She had to be honest – he had done nothing wrong. So he had slept with Ajoke, but that was before she came into the picture. Was this whole thing a sham to mask the real reason why she had broken the relationship off? Had she done it to prove a point? That she could break men’s hearts the way they had broken hers? The questions fell over each other like bowling pins at the end of an alley. Sighing, she walked to the large window, watching the bustling traffic below as people went about their business. Things were back to normal. Sales had resumed; Lauren was back to barking orders and ranting about deadlines. A couple of metres away from a roundabout she spotted a billboard with Ifeoma Ogendu’s face on it, the August edition of the magazine in her hands. The edition was making waves – two months after publication it still remained on bookstands. The fire incident had helped to boost sales, and so far Black Sparkle had sold over fifty thousand copies nationwide.
Business was good, it seemed. But she felt empty inside, and she knew why.
She missed him. God, she missed him so badly it hurt like an open sore sprinkled with salt. She could still recall his handsome face as it went through the phases of shock when she had called it off. She had not seen him since then; his contract was over and he had stopped coming around to the office. It hurt her that he had moved on so soon. Often she was tempted to call him, but she always lost her nerve at the last minute. But now her nerves pulsated with the feverish need to contact him and she dialled his number, the sound of the dial tone humming in her ear like a thousand bees. It was only when the line went dead that she realised she had been holding her breath. He hadn’t answered. She felt defeated.
Some things are not meant to be, Mira, her Rational Mind said so softly that the words felt like the caress of a lover. She could almost feel its presence, as if it was a person standing beside her, a warm hand on her shoulder. You shouldn’t hurt this way … let it go.
Tears blurred her vision as she gazed at his number. Let it go. With a heavy heart she held down the delete button and watched as his contact disappeared from the screen.
Let him go.
***
“Mira.”
Her eyes fluttered open. Lauren was standing over her, her face a mask of concern. Disorientated, Mira sat up – she had fallen asleep on the visitors’ sofa in her office. She checked her watch – it was a few minutes to one. She had dozed off for more than an hour. “I-I’m sorry, I fell asleep,” she apologised, her voice still husky with drowsiness. “I think my medication is—”
“I understand,” her boss said. “You have a visitor.” She turned to the door, and there at the threshold stood Helen Heinz.
Mira gaped at her, dumbstruck. The woman was petite and beautiful, and had a striking resemblance to her son. Her eyes were hazel like his, and her smile was just as endearing. “That’s Helen Heinz,” she muttered.
Lauren smiled. “Yes, in the flesh. She wants to speak with you so I’ll leave you two alone.” She smiled at her sister and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Mira swallowed, at a loss for words. What do you do when one of the world’s richest black women is standing in your office? Then she kicked herself. You welcome her, of course. She hastily pulled out a chair. “Please, ma … sit.” she offered, surprised that her voice was audible. Her nerves were shot to oblivion with fright. “What can I get you? Wow, this is an honour …”
Helen Heinz grinned, revealing small white teeth. “Oh, it’s alright … I’ll rather sit with you at that sofa,” she said with a slight British accent. “And don’t worry, I’m fine. I came for more pressing issues, my dear.”
Mira lowered her gaze to her hands on her lap. “I guess it involves your son, Dominic.”
“Yes, but not the way you think,” Helen said. “See, I arrived in Nigeria last month to find my son a wreck. He was far from the boisterous young man I know; he had lost weight and was excessively quiet and distant. He was locked up in his house in Badagry, pining away. I was persistent though, and with the help of my sister we broke in and got him talking. He didn’t say much, but from what I gathered it’s clear that my son is in love with you.”
Mira shut her eyes; the image Helen had painted was dismal. “I know but … I don’t think we can be together,” she said in a low voice.
Helen’s eyebrows went up. “Says who?”
“Well, there was this incident.” She told Helen about the Ajoke’s obsession, the arson and the attempted murder. Helen listened quietly and when she was done the woman sighed.
“Lauren told me about it. It’s sad that someone would be so overcome by their emotions to put another in harm’s way, and I am sorry all this happened to you. But this isn’t about that girl – this is about you and Dominic, about the love you have for each other.” She smiled at Mira’s questioning look. “I’m sure you are surprised I know everything, but I do. You should have seen him when he talked about you. He was so animated, so … alive. Please, give him a chance to redeem himself. Sometimes experiences like this teach us to be cautious of the friends we keep, and I’m sure Dominic has learned this.”
She placed her hand over Mira’s. “He feels terrible, Mira; he’s broken; he can’t eat or sleep. The day after we saw him he left the country without informing us. We panicked at first, but from pictures on his blog we found out he was in Paris. I found out more about you from that blog: he put up a lot of your pictures and wrote a poem about you, called ‘Breaking Mira’.” She chuckled. “Dominic has never been the poetic one but you brought out that side in him … oh, you did. He’s got over a thousand hits from that poem alone, but couldn’t care less. He hasn’t blogged since then. So tell me, my dear, why did you break up with him?”
“B-Because I love him,” Mira sobbed, her tears blurring her sight. “I love him but I’m too proud to admit it. I felt it was just a temporary attraction that would end, but it hasn’t. And I really do love him so much, you know. I miss him too … you have no idea.” She looked up at Helen. “I just wish I could tell him how I feel. But it’s too late … he’s far away from me now.”
Helen smiled. “He’s at Elegushi Beach.”
She drew back, her brows raised with surprise. “B-but you said he’s out of the country …”
“He came back two days ago … my relatives are celebrating their wedding anniversary today and they asked for Dominic to be their photographer. I sent the message on to him and I knew he’d agree to it.”
Mira sighed, tears in the corners of her eyes. “I wish I could make things right between us again.”
“Well, what’s stopping you?”
Mira stared at her hands for a moment, immobile. Then she turned to the woman, the truth dawning on her. “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing but my pride and …” she caught sight of her face in the mirror and cringed. “And probably my face … oh Lord, I look a mess.”
“You look beautiful,” Helen said as she tidied a stray curl of Mira’s hair. “Remember, no more excuses, Mira.”
Mira nodded. Her face set with determination as she stood up and raised her chin. “Yes, no more excuses. I can do this. I mean, I can try, can’t I?”
“Yes you can, so go. Don’t lose out on happiness because of your pride, Mira. Sometimes happiness is all we need to make us proud of who we are.”
She was laughing excitedly as she enveloped the woma
n in a tight hug. “Thank you so much. Oh thank you … I’ll never forget this!”
“Hold on,” Helen said, stopping her. She held up a set of keys and winked at her. “Take my Bugatti. You’ll need fast wheels for this one.”
Sixteen
The anniversary party was in full swing when she arrived. It was on the beach, and Mira could see the canopies and the guests dressed in colourful traditional attire as a popular song by P-Square blared out. She began running towards the venue, forgetting she was dressed in a long satin adire halter dress and red jewelled Michael Kors sandals. Four sprints into the run she lost her footing on the sand and fell over – face first. The fine sand filled her mouth and stuck to her face like dusty crystals, and a metre away from her fingers she saw a dead crab. The panic and revulsion kicked in, but then she remembered why she was here. She wouldn’t let her fears overcome her. What was it that Dominic had told her that day in Badagry? It’s up to you to prove that you are above your fears, Mira. Nobody can do that for you. Squaring her shoulders, she took off her shoes, inhaled deeply and walked to the venue of the party, undeterred. Her toes dug into the wet sand; it was clean and fine and felt amazing. People were smiling everywhere, and the music was loud. She searched frantically for him; with his towering height he shouldn’t be hard to find. But after ten minutes of frantically looking for him she still hadn’t spotted Dominic’s familiar’s face.
What now? she wondered.
I can’t leave without seeing him, I have to see him! I came this far – nothing will stop me. Looking around, she spotted the M.C. on the stage, and a thought came to her. She hurried towards him and held up a bundle of notes. “Two thousand naira for your microphone,” she yelled at him.
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