Engaged (Challenge series, #2)

by Kiru Taye

  She’d looked at the piece of paper again. At the time she’d written it, she’d thought it was the end for the both of them. She’d never thought she’d see him again. She’d thought that was what he wanted. She hadn’t wanted to come across as clingy or desperate. So she hadn’t asked him to call her even though she’d wanted him to. It was too late now. It didn’t matter anymore.

  “Paul, I’m sorry if my note upset you. It changes nothing now. I’m engaged to someone else. So we have to forget it. Forget what we did, please.”

  “Tell me the truth. If I’d called you and asked to see you again, would you have agreed?”

  “Yes, but—“

  “No buts. You’re here now and I want to see you again.”

  “Hello! Newsflash, I’m engaged.” She waved her left hand angrily in the air.

  He took her hand in his and stroked the back with his other hand. Tingles travelled up her arm. She tried to pull it back but he held on. Dismissing her words, he shrugged nonchalantly, his expression still stern. “You don’t really want to marry Frederick. I’m saving you both the headache.”

  “What’s Frederick got to do with anything?” she asked, frowning in confusion.

  “You’re wearing his ring, aren’t you? I’d say he has everything to do with it.”

  “Where did you get such a crazy idea? Frederick is not my fiancé,” she replied with exasperation.

  “He’s not? Then who is?” Frowning, he dropped her hand quicker than a chef drops a hot pan.

  “Vincent Arinze. Do you know him?”

  The expression on Paul’s face turned thunderous, his features drawn tight, and his hands balled into fists. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Vincent, please call me. I need to talk to you.”

  Ijay left out a frustrated sigh after leaving yet another voice message for her elusive fiancé who was getting harder to get hold of these days. It seemed whenever she wanted to talk to him, he was out of reach. Continually getting his voice-mail was disconcerting to say the least.

  Gritting her teeth to stop the banked tears in her eyes from falling, she switched off her phone and dropped it on the table. The events of the night had left her feeling raw and sensitive.

  She recalled Paul’s expression when she’d told him about Vincent. The distressed and disgusted look on his face had left her feeling confounded. His eyes had darkened to a menacing glint and his lips twisted with repulsion.

  It had left her feeling sick.

  That he could be all over her one minute and the next look at her with loathing had hurt her more than anything else he’d done. The anger rising within her had put the tears on hold.

  He’d promptly called the waiter’s attention, paid the bill and ushered her out of the restaurant. All attempts to get him to explain the reason for his response met with stone cold silence all the way back to her hotel. He’d unceremoniously bid her good night at the entrance of the hotel. She’d stood there fuming in silence and he’d driven off into the night.

  As she walked up to her room, she’d tried to work out why Paul would be in such a state about Vincent. His behaviour confirmed to her that Paul knew Vincent.

  Though their surnames were the same, she knew Vincent didn’t have a brother. He had a younger sister Veronica, whom Ijay had met for a few hours in London while Veronica was in transit to the United States.

  Vincent’s sister was about the same age as Ijay. Though there’d been an initial coolness from Veronica, which Ijay had put down to them just meeting for the first time, they’d gotten on relatively well in those hours they’d spent together.

  So it was just Vincent, Veronica and their mum. Their father had died a few years back. When they’d first started dating, she’d chosen not to ask Vincent if he knew Paul. She’d tried to imagine how that conversation would have gone and changed her mind.

  “By the way, Vincent, do you know a Paul Arinze? Oh, he’s just a man I had a one-night stand with whom I keep dreaming about.”

  No biggie, right? Wrong! What man would have liked his future wife flaunting a one-night stand in his face? She’d quickly decided against it, choosing to forget Paul in the process. Of course, not discussing Paul was the easy part. Forgetting him was a little more difficult to achieve, to her chagrin.

  So maybe Paul was a cousin of Vincent. Or some other random person who just managed to have the same last name as Vincent. It was known to happen. After all she knew of people with the last name Amadi who were not related to her family.

  Either way, Paul knew Vincent. And they’d done a bad thing tonight. She only hoped Vincent would forgive her when she told him.

  She had to tell him.

  There was no way she could live with herself knowing what she’d done. She only wished she could see Vincent face to face when she told him. It would be better than telling him on the phone. She really couldn’t wait. Not when the guilt was slowly driving her insane.

  Robotically stripping off her clothes, she walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She didn’t even bother covering her hair with the shower cap. She stepped under the shower, the warm jet pounding against her skin, plastering her hair against her face.

  What have I done?

  Guilt and shame wracked her mind. Her body trembled at the enormity of what she’d done.

  I’m not that kind of girl.

  She didn’t swing from one man to the next. Once she got into someone, she committed with all her being. For her, it was all or nothing. That’s why it had hurt so much when she’d split from Frederick.

  For the three years she dated him, she never gave another man the time of day. Never allowed herself to get into that kind of situation. Since she’d been dating Vincent, she hadn’t looked at another man.

  Except Paul!

  What was it about Paul that was making her lose herself—her inhibitions? On the first day she’d met him, she’d thrown caution to the wind and slept with him. Something she’d never done before. She was sensible Ijay. When it came to Paul she seemed to have no sense at all.

  She certainly didn’t see herself as immoral. When she’d read about other people having affairs while in relationships, she’d wondered what it was that drove them to it. Why they would jeopardise a loving relationship for the sake of a brief affair?

  The consequences of these illicit affairs were devastating in some circumstances. Some people lost everything including their closest families.

  In her case, she’d certainly risked more than a broken heart by allowing Paul to touch her today.

  So it hadn’t been full on sex. But the intent had been there.

  She’d ached for him since she arrived in Abuja; had wanted much more than his touch. She’d wanted to feel him in every pore of her body. If he hadn’t stopped, she’d have climaxed, shamelessly, in a restaurant where anyone could have heard or seen her.

  Madness!

  Disgust rolled through her, twisting her stomach in a cramp. She bent over and crouched low on the bathroom tiles, the water still hitting her back. Tears rolled down her face unhindered, her body trembling.

  Worse she still ached for Paul. She yearned for the warmth and safety of his embrace, the soothing sound of his voice, the fiery touch of his hands.

  In the one night they’d spent together, he’d given her something that no other man had. He’d restored her confidence in the desirability of her body and herself as a woman.

  Something that Frederick had smashed when he’d dumped her and started dating a slimmer woman. And Vincent trampled on each time by not even touching at all.

  Paul was the only one who really seemed to see all of her as she was and still appreciated her.

  In that one night, he’d stolen a piece of her heart. In the past months, she’d hoped that Vincent would come to replace that lost piece. That he’d make her feel wanted and sexy again.

  In that one thing he’d failed her. Yes, there was a reassurance in knowing he want
ed to spend the rest of his life with her. They were friends and respected each other. That’s what relationships should be about. Right?

  It shouldn’t matter if there’s little or no sex as long as they cared for each other. That’s what sustained relationships in the long term. Passion would fizzle out eventually.

  So why did her body not agree with her mind? Why had she been yearning for Paul to fulfil the wanton promise in his eyes? Why did she crave the bliss that came with being in his arms—the fiery soul-searing touch of his kiss?

  The sting from the cold shower spray made her stand up and shut off the faucet. She hadn’t realised how long she’d been crouched on the floor. She grabbed a towel and dried herself before wrapping her body in a bathrobe and her hair in a towel. She walked back into her room and sat on the bed, staring at the wall blankly.

  She had already put her future marriage to Vincent in jeopardy by what she’d done tonight. The shame hitting her now would be nothing compared to the guilt she’d feel when she had to explain to her parents that the wedding would be cancelled because she couldn’t control herself.

  Her parents had always been supportive but this would bring disgrace to her family. The invitations to the traditional wedding had already been issued. The plans had already been made.

  This was a big deal for her parents especially her father who was enthusiastic about seeing his first daughter get wedded. Any change in plans would disappoint him much more than her mother.

  Bending her head, she clasped it in her hands bent on her knees. She’d never felt this stressed before. Not even when she’d split with her ex.

  How was she going to cope with seeing Paul tomorrow morning at work? She couldn’t call in off sick. It was unprofessional. Moreover he’d know it was because of him. She didn’t want him thinking he affected her so badly that she’d hide from him. She’d have to keep a brave smile on her face and do her job as expected.

  She tipped to the side on the bed and clutched her body in a foetal position.

  God help me.

  ***

  Vincent Arinze!

  Paul let out a volley of punches on the punch bag dangling from the ceiling in the gymnasium on the ground floor of his apartment block in the secluded gated complex. He paid a premium in service charges but it was worth it to him living here.

  One of the perks being that he could use the gym late at night after work without worrying about the drive back home. All he had to do was take the lift up to his apartment afterward. It came in handy tonight because he could take out his frustrations on the passive bag.

  How had things become so complicated in such a short time? How did the woman he wanted become entangled with his half-brother? Vincent, who was only a few months older than him, shared his father’s blood but was from a different mother.

  Whilst married to his mother, Paul’s father had several affairs one of them to Vincent’s mother. Vincent’s mum had been pregnant with him first. This meant that Vincent had been born a few months ahead of Paul.

  When he was around eight years old, Paul’s mother died. Vincent’s mother and children moved into his father’s house. His stepmother had mistreated him turning him into their houseboy. His father had been too busy with his external affairs to bother about what was happening to Paul in their home.

  Then again, perhaps he’d known.

  When Paul was eleven he was sent to boarding school at CIC Enugu. Till today, he saw it as the best thing his father had ever done for him. It got him away from their house and that woman’s grip for the first time in his life. He suddenly had wings to fly.

  Paul went off the rails for a while getting into trouble in school but his relationship with Michael and Peter had grounded him. In fact, Peter’s parents had adopted him by default when Peter told them he had nowhere else to go during their school holidays.

  Throughout that time, a kind of sibling rivalry had ensued between Paul and Vincent. Each time Vincent did something wrong he’d blame Paul for it. His stepmother had no problems punishing him for it.

  It happened again and again that in the end Paul started retaliating. If he was going to be punished he wanted to be punished for doing the wrong thing.

  It all came to a head one school vacation when Paul had returned home to find out there was a new teenage girl, Onome, who’d moved onto their street with her family. He’d liked the girl and asked her out. She’d agreed.

  Later Vincent confronted Paul claiming that Onome was his girlfriend and that Paul should leave her alone. Paul had refused and asked Onome who denied it. She’d said that Vincent had been pestering her but she’d refused him. Enraged, Vincent had sworn he’d make both of them pay.

  A few days later, Onome was raped. Paul found out about it when police turned up at his house. They searched his room and found the clothes and black hood the perpetuator had worn in his wardrobe. He’d claimed his innocence but was ignored and arrested.

  His father bailed him out and paid reparations to Onome’s family. They eventually dropped the charges because they didn’t want Onome to face any trauma in court. His father sent him back to boarding school and to his maternal uncle's house afterwards.

  Till today, no one else had been charged for the rape on Onome. Yet Paul knew there was only one person responsible though he hadn’t been able to prove it.

  The smug expression on Vincent’s face as Paul had been led away by the Police convinced him Vincent was responsible. Who else would direct the police to his house, if the perpetuator of the crime had covered his face?

  It could only be Vincent. And now the same Vincent was engaged Ijay.

  Paul pounded the bag until he made himself dizzy and sat on the floor with his head on his gloved hands.

  He was infuriated with himself that he’d let his arrogance rule him. That he allowed his anger with Ijay to fester for so long. Now she was engaged to Vincent, Paul had to back off. He couldn’t continue their petty childish rivalry.

  Despite the anger he had against Vincent for raping Onome and setting him up, Paul realised the greater responsibility lay on the head of their parents who were totally irresponsible. They were responsible for the kind of people their offspring turned into.

  As far as Paul was concerned Vincent’s mother was not fit to be a parent. She’d spoilt her children. The same thing could be said for his father.

  Paul could easily retaliate using Ijay as a pawn against Vincent. He knew Ijay was his for the taking. Her responsiveness tonight at the restaurant showed him that if he pushed her, she’d let him do as he pleased. It would hurt Vincent and send a message to him that Paul knew what he did to Onome.

  What about Ijay? You care about her.

  No, I don’t. It’s just sex.

  Pain throbbed in his head. Groaning, he rubbed his temple with his wrist.

  You care about her. That’s why it hurt you so much to find out she’s with Vincent. Otherwise, you would have taken it the same way as when you thought it was Frederick.

  Letting out a sigh, he relaxed his shoulders, conceding the thought in his mind. He cared about Ijay. He didn’t want to care about her. Not that way. It seemed it was too late, anyway.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Ijay walked into Paul’s office the next morning, the stress of the last few days had finally got her temper up. She hardly slept last night. Half of the night was spent worrying about the fact that she hadn’t spoken to Vincent yet.

  The other half spent worrying about how to deal with Paul. When she eventually slept her sleep was choppy. She woke up almost every hour in cold sweat plagued by nightmares. In her dreams, both Paul and Vincent hated her.

  So this morning she wasn’t in the best of moods. As she got dressed, she decided to take back control of her life where Paul was concerned. She hadn’t been very prepared when she’d first arrived in Abuja. She hadn’t known what Paul’s intentions were or what he was capable of doing. He’d shown her his true colours in the last few days.

  She�
�d speak her mind. If the result was that she got booted off the project, at least she would have stood up for herself. And hopefully she’d have peace of mind.

  Paul was at his desk and barely looked up when she walked in. She strode with purpose to his desk and stopped in front of him. He looked up and leaned back in his chair. At first his eyes brightened with surprise, and then two parallel frown lines creased his forehead.

  “Ijay, I didn’t realise we had a meeting now,” he said briskly in his usual business tone.

  Her heart thumped in her chest. It was the first time she’d heard his voice since last night. Its deep note resonated within her. She ignored its effect and gripped her notepad tighter. She didn’t need the notepad. Just wanted something to hold on to while in Paul’s office.

  “We don’t. I need to talk to you,” she said, glad her voice sounded calm and she was winning her battle for inner peace.

  “Sit down.” Paul pointed to the chair in front of his desk with the pen in his hand.

  “No. I’d rather stand. I won’t be long,” she replied promptly, glad she was still composed.

  He lifted his eyebrow, his dark eyes staring at her silently as if to say, ‘Really?’

  Still, she stared him down, cocking her eyebrow too in a challenge and refused to back down. After a few second of watching each other, she saw his chest lift as he let out a resigned sigh and rubbed his head with his palm.

  “Okay. Let’s hear it,” he conceded, dropping his pen on the table.

  Yeah! She celebrated silently. It was a small victory but worth celebrating where Paul was concerned. She hoped he’d continue his magnanimity.

  “Do you still want me to work on this project?” she asked, her fingers crossed mentally. She’d worried last night whether he still wanted her to work on the project, after the way he’d treated her at the end of the evening. Like she had the plague.

  “Yes,” he answered without hesitation. The frown lines on his head deepened, his dark eyes looking worried. “Why?”

  “If you want me to continue working on this project, then all your games have to stop. Right now. I came to Abuja because I wanted to work on the POD project, nothing else. I’m engaged and I want it to stay that way. I won’t date you or sleep with you.” She had to blow out air when she’d finished rattling out her mini-speech. Now that it was out she felt both relieved and anxious at the same time.