by Alyssa Cole
“That actually sounds really interesting. Thanks again for inviting me.”
Portia eyed her speculatively, and then put the compact away. “I think interesting may be an understatement for tonight, but we’ll see.”
Ledi turned and looked out of the window, glancing up at the tall buildings that lined Park Avenue. She inhaled deeply. If luck was on her side, what happened at the benefit would change her life.
Chapter 19
Ledi had thought herself dressed up, but as soon as she stepped into the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria she felt like a dull black-and-white microgel next to beautiful color-stained cells. Beneath the high ceilings and Corinthian columns, throngs of women in elaborate headwraps and wax print dresses in patterns that put peacocks to shame chatted in a variety of languages. Men wearing equally elegant and bright African print suits stood by their sides or wandered into the lounge area. One woman floated toward the elevator bank in a skirt that billowed out behind her like a blazing orange phoenix’s tail.
“Oh my goodness,” Ledi said. “It’s like Africa’s Next Top Model up in here.”
Ledi was still dazzled as they rode the elevator up to the ballroom on the hotel’s top floor. Music with a heavy drumbeat tugged at her hips before she even got through the door, and serving staff in aprons of kente cloth bustled by with plates of delicious smelling hors d’oeuvres. Ledi grabbed a small meat pie, and then another, partly because she was hungry and partly because she knew that parties where no one ate the appetizers were hell on a server’s wrists. It was also a cardinal sin to let free food pass her by. They moved against a wall as Portia searched out her parents.
“My dad should be somewhere around here—”
“Mom and Dad are playing musical chairs right now. We have to move because someone fucked up the RSVP and there’s no way I’m fitting between those tables.” The voice was low, its cadence a bit slow and overenunciated. Ledi looked down into a face that was so similar to Portia’s that she startled.
Regina, Portia’s twin sister.
They weren’t identical, but it was close. Her hair was much shorter, her curl pattern tighter, but it was the same dark auburn. Her eyes were the same shade of maple, and her mouth wore the same smile, except where Portia’s was sad, Regina’s was sharp. She sat in a sleek, high-tech wheelchair. The wheels were encased in fire-engine red rims and looked like something out of a comic book. Ledi was certain that was on purpose. The bright dresses weren’t the only things that would draw people’s eye at the gala.
Portia sometimes referred to a time “when my sister was sick” when she was drunk, but she was pretty tight-lipped about her sister otherwise, despite Regina’s rising internet stardom. Ledi had thought it sibling rivalry, but now she wasn’t sure.
“Hey, sis. Good to see you.” Regina looked up at her sister with an inscrutable expression.
“Reggie! I didn’t know you’d be here,” Portia said, bending down to give her sister a peck on the cheek.
“You would know if you ever answered my texts,” Regina said. Another sharp smile.
“Sorry. Just. You know how it is.”
Regina did not seem to know how it is. She raised a brow.
Instead of elaborating, Portia gestured toward Ledi. “This is my friend Ledi.”
“Oh, this is the Ledi you’re always hanging out with?” Regina sounded . . . Jealous?
A little rush of nerves went through Ledi, despite the obvious sisterly tension she was smack dab in the middle of. She tried to be cool, but that lasted about five seconds. “It’s so nice to meet you and also OMG I love your site so much! I read it every day! Thank you so much.”
So much for playing it cool.
Regina reached a hand up toward Ledi, and even though her hand shook en route, her grip was strong. “You’re welcome? Is that the right response? I don’t know what to say when people are excited about the site. This is why I hang out online instead.” She squinted up at Ledi. “Wait, you look familiar. Do you comment as HeLaHoop?”
Ledi’s face warmed and Regina looked embarrassed.
“Oh shit, I shouldn’t ask that. Just, you have a cool avatar photo wearing lab gear and you always have such smart things to say on the science posts, so I remember your picture. I was thinking about asking if you, well HeLaHoop, wanted to do a column on lady scientists. We pay our columnists, in case you were wondering.”
“Oh! That sounds like it could be fun,” Ledi said, both shocked and flattered. “And I could always use extra cash.”
“Oracle, take note. Email Ledi about lady scientists.”
An LED screen on the arm of the wheelchair blinked red, then green. A robotic voice styled after HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey piped out of the armrest. “Note taken, Reggie.”
“Did your chair just talk?” Ledi asked. “That is amazing!”
“Your phone talks, too, I’m sure,” Regina said drily, but grinned at her. Ledi felt a hard tug on her arm. Portia.
“Dr. Okri is over there. I should go introduce you.” Portia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and Regina frowned and looked down.
“It was great meeting you,” Ledi said before Portia could respond. “I’ll see you at the table.”
“Yeah,” Portia said. “We’ll be back.”
Regina’s expression lightened. “Okay. I’ll just . . . wait for Mom and Dad I guess.”
Then Ledi was being dragged toward an imposing woman who held court in front of a small group of admirers. She wore a royal blue gown printed with bright yellow images of birds in flight, paired with a matching headwrap. Her face had that smooth brown agelessness that meant she could be anywhere from thirty to seventy, and her eyes were bright with kindness.
“Why hello, Miss Portia,” she boomed in an accent that could only be described as “rich New Yorker.” Once you’d made a certain amount of cash, you could make up any accent you wanted and no one would call you on it. “And is this lovely lady the friend you told me about? Where are you from, dear?”
The last question was directed at Ledi.
“I bet she’s from Eritrea,” a woman in the group said. “She’s the spitting image of my auntie.”
“No,” another man interrupted, his accent thick. “Look at those cheekbones. She has to be from Sudan. I’d know my people anywhere.”
The defensiveness that arose whenever people spoke of their past or their ancestors activated her defenses. “I’m from Manhattan,” she said firmly.
“Hmph,” said the Eritrean woman. “I guess your people just sprang from the soil here, then?”
“Ah, don’t start now, Judy,” Dr. Okri said, then clasped Ledi by the arm. “This young woman is training to be an epidemiologist, an asset to the community no matter where she is from. We have to go talk boring science stuff now, but please enjoy the food and the music. I’m very excited about tonight’s program.”
Dr. Okri led her to a corner away from the band. “So what’s this about a practicum falling through?”
“Well, I was supposed to be working at the Disease Task Force.”
“Which no longer exists thanks to people who’ve never cracked a science book in their lives,” Dr. Okri said. “I wish I could say this was the last such closure we’d hear of.” She sighed. “Well, you’re welcome to come intern with me. It’s not very exciting, but maybe we’ll get another bird flu epidemic since no one is currently tracking such things to prevent it.”
“Thank you so much! That would be great. The internship, not the epidemic.” Ledi’s body slackened with relief. Her career wasn’t ruined. Things hadn’t worked out as planned, but Portia had come through for her and now she could finally relax and focus on her exams. She wondered if she’d get to share the good news with Jamal—maybe he’d help her celebrate?
“Or perhaps we’ll have to figure out a mystery disease, like they’re dealing with in Thesolo?”
Ledi’s head snapped up. “What?”
The woman was in full science-gossip mo
de, completely unaware of the shock she’d given Ledi with the mention of Thesolo. “It’s not Ebola, or malaria. The water sources are clean, and there’s no discernible contagion pattern. It’s been on everyone’s tongue tonight, especially given our guest of honor, Prince Thabiso.”
Led wasn’t sure if the room tilted or if it was her.
Prince Thabiso. The man who had been the subject of her emails for weeks was now in New York City, at the same event as her?
Impossible. And yet Dr. Okri had no reason to lie, unless she was in on it, too? A ridiculous thought, but if Prince Thabiso was really there, couldn’t anything be going on?
“Are you okay, Naledi?” Dr. Okri was staring into her eyes and Ledi knew she was checking to see if her pupils were dilated.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I think that maybe all the stress of the field study lifting so suddenly made me a bit dizzy.”
Dr. Okri nodded. “I understand. Grad school is stressful enough without setbacks like this. Go find Portia, eat some of the wonderful food, and relax. Everything is going to be okay now.”
Ledi took a deep breath. Dr. Okri was right. Her academic career was moving back on track. She had at least one more night of incredible sex with Jamal to look forward to. The Prince Thabiso business was nothing to be worried about; in fact, she’d make it a point to find him later that night and let him know what scammers were doing in his name. It would be strange talking to a prince, but she was sure he was no different than any other guy.
Chapter 20
Pardon me, Highness, but there is a man from Botswana who is rather insistent that you meet his daughter,” Likotsi said in a low voice. “I told him you were occupied but I’m not certain he won’t creep under the table during dinner and pop up from beside your seat.”
Thabiso closed his eyes against the annoyance. The music provided by the live band was delightful, the food exquisite, but it was so much drone in his ear and ash on his tongue because Naledi wasn’t there with him.
He still had to reveal his true self to her, although that wasn’t entirely right. He’d never felt more like himself than in the time he’d spent with Naledi. The adulation and coy glances from women, the hearty handshakes and admiration from the men, the way everyone treated him like royalty—it grated on him. He wished he were back at the building uptown, on an uncomfortable futon or in a tiny kitchen or on a plastic-wrapped couch, as long as Ledi was there with him.
“You can tell him I’m not available to meet eligible young women right now,” he said, pressing back against the wall of the alcove he was tucked into. He’d have to socialize at some point, but no one had recognized him just yet. “My parents finding me a bride has taken care of that annoyance at the very least.”
“Yes, sire.”
As Likotsi strode away, Thabiso noticed a young woman hovering nearby. He almost dismissed her, but then he saw the tray in her hand. She was a server, like he’d been for those fateful few hours when he worked with Naledi.
“Um, would you like more sparkling water, Prince, sir?”
“Yes,” he said, holding out his empty glass, then added, “Thank you.”
Her hand shook as she poured his water, and a bit splashed onto his shoe. “Oh, I’m sorry! I usually never spill.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I know this job is difficult. It’s not as if you set me on fire or anything. Then we would have a problem.” He smiled, hoping that set her at ease, and was pleased when she returned it.
“Thank you, sir. And congratulations.”
“I’m at this fund-raiser on behalf of my people, not myself, but thank you.”
“Oh, congrats for that, too!” she said, and walked away grinning. Thabiso was slightly confused, but people often said strange thing when they realized they were talking to royalty.
A flash of purple fabric hugging a familiar hip in his peripheral vision caught his attention, but when Thabiso turned to investigate, all he saw was the wide, wax print skirt of a ball gown in the space where the purple apparition had been.
Perhaps he was still so enraptured with Naledi that he’d begun conjuring her up? It wouldn’t be the first time; he’d done the same when he was a child, after all. It would certainly be disquieting if that were the case, but that didn’t stop his sudden sense of unease. He needed to see her. Needed to tell her. He’d created a ridiculous set of preconditions in his head, when in reality there was no good moment other than as soon as possible, you cowering hyena.
Likotsi returned, chewing something and brushing crumbs off of her lapels. “These stuffed plantains are addictive,” she said. “Do you want one before you’re announced?”
“No,” he said, his voice rough from nerves that had nothing to do with speaking in front of a group of people. “What is the earliest time I can leave here?”
“Customarily, the guest of honor stays for at least two-thirds of an event,” Likotsi said, disapproval icing over her words. “Don’t tell me that you’re considering leaving to see her. Do you really think she’s sitting around waiting for you? She said she had plans. She could be out with another man—one who isn’t lying to her.”
The thought of it made Thabiso’s fists clench. A crown of icy panic settled on his head at the thought of some other man, perhaps the one who’d comfort her when she found out Jamal was really Thabiso.
“She didn’t mention any other man,” he said defensively.
“And you didn’t mention living in a palace,” Likotsi said with a Cheshire cat grin. “Funny, the things people omit during love’s first bloom.”
Love? Could that be the ridiculous happiness that settled over him at the mere thought of Naledi, that made him sick with anger at the suggestion of her being with someone else?
Impossible.
Or inevitable, if the priestesses had been correct in their assessment.
The music quieted and the roar of the crowd grew louder for a moment before the shushing began. The MC took to the mike and began joking with the attendees.
“You’re right,” Thabiso said. “I have an obligation here and I can’t go running off because I didn’t tell her when I should have. But tonight—”
“I believe you once told me that your love life was not my purview,” Likotsi said. “Shall we keep it that way until after you’ve told her? I’m not feeling very charitable this evening.”
“Do you want to talk, Kotsi?” Thabiso was worried by the dullness in his assistant’s eyes. When he looked closer now, he noticed the wrinkles that marred her shirt, and that the edges of her short hair were slightly overgrown. She’d had time to get a shape-up before the event, and she hadn’t. In the world of Likotsi, this was catastrophic.
“If Naledi throws you out on your buttocks, as she has every right to, then perhaps we can commiserate about our failed American conquests one day,” she said. “But not yet. I’m still a bit tender, you see.”
Thabiso placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re a good woman. I don’t know what happened, but I know she’s a fool to have hurt you.”
“I seem to be surrounded by fools, lately,” she said, but her smile was affectionate. “For your sake, I hope Naledi is as fond of them as I am.”
The MC’s voice boomed out. “Dinner will be served shortly, but before that, allow me to introduce tonight’s guest of honor. Voted Africa’s most powerful man, and formerly known as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors, His Royal Highness, Bringer of Light and Love, Prince Thabiso Moshoeshoe of Thesolo!”
Thabiso wanted to roll his eyes at the honorific, but the man was just reading from a card. Besides, the title had served as a great icebreaker with women in the past. The not-so-distant past, in fact, but the thought of it seemed gauche to him at the moment. Anything but returning to Ledi and telling her the truth, and then getting to his people, seemed unimportant.
“And it seems that we’ll also be the first to congratulate the prince on his impending marriage! Congratulations!”
What? Wor
d spread fast. He couldn’t very well deny it—that would cause a scandal. Thabiso gritted his teeth. Yet another thing he’d have to pretend for the moment.
He strode toward the stage and had taken his first step up onto it when there was that purple flash just out of view again, this time accompanied by a commotion. He turned, and his gaze met familiar brown eyes that were wide with disbelief. His stomach gave a sick jolt and tumble, as if he’d just gone over the side of Thesolo’s highest waterfall in a barrel.
Ledi. With her friend Portia from the other day seated beside her. Ledi was standing, fists clenched at her sides and fury scrawled into her features. She knew he was a prince now. She thought he was an engaged-to-be-married one. He prepared himself for her to scream and shout and make a scene, but she turned from him and glared at her friend.
“You knew,” she said quietly, but the words carried.
“No! Yes. I suspected.” Portia’s shoulder hunched guiltily.
“You suspected and you brought me here to humiliate me?” Ledi asked.
“What are you talking about?” Portia’s voice rose in a panic. “He’s the one who lied! He should be the one humiliated.”
“Tell that to everyone watching,” Ledi growled, then walked around her friend and through the now-buzzing crowd. Thabiso felt as if his feet were glued to the ground, as if he were in a silent film watching the leading lady make her escape, but then the noise of the crowd filled his ears and his legs began to move, carrying him through the slim paths between tables toward the door Ledi had just marched through.
He was about to break into a full-out run when a wheelchair pushed back and blocked his path. The short-haired woman seated in it gave him a smug look as she pushed a button on her chair.
“Oracle, text Kelly. Kelly pick up a friend named Ledi in front of the Waldorf, right now, and take her wherever she wants to go,” she said, then released the button and smiled at Thabiso. “You’ll have to go around. I hope she’s long gone when you get down there.”
