“This, Mira,” he swept his arm towards the ocean, “this is where I found my muse, the creativity behind all those photographs I take. Some people find theirs in solitude, some in music but I found mine in nature, in the oceans of Badagry and the history behind it. Besides, I got fed up with the city and its noise … I needed a place where my creativity could flow. And when I came here, it did.”
She was silent for a while, and then said, “I know it sounds strange, but I found my muse through cooking.”
Dominic raised both eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yes, it’s funny but true. It was years back – I was 15, I guess. My parents were holding a dinner party and I was helping out in the kitchen. We spent the whole morning preparing all kinds of dishes: from ogbono to ofe nsala, jollof rice to coconut rice, plantain to pounded yam. When we were done, I looked at the large table with the colourful dishes and a wave of creativity hit me so hard I felt hazy. So I went into my room and sketched the first of my designs. I sold them to a designer during my first year in college, and the money covered a year’s expenses.” She laughed. “OK, you can laugh now.”
He shook his head. “No, I have no desire to laugh. That was a wonderful story – really.”
She believed him.
The women at the Badagry market were the most fun. Ifeoma bonded with them, and within minutes of their arrival they had bestowed many fond names on her: Omo Eko, Omo Fresh, Omo Butter, Sissy London. Mira loved them. Some thought she and Dominic were a couple, and, during the shoot, a frail old toothless woman said she saw her getting pregnant next month with the way they were in love. Mira, mortified, quickly put her right. But Dominic and Rufus became animated, egging her on, and when they left the stalls she tried whacking their heads off with feigned annoyance.
On their way home, Rufus saw a local jeweller advertising on a board tied to the traffic light pole. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “Let’s buy the ring for the coming wedding! Awon marriage noni!” he said in Yoruba, rubbing his hands together gleefully. He turned to Mira, “What ring would you prefer – how about 18-carat gold with a chunky diamond?” he winked at Dominic.
“You’re mad, Rufus,” Mira joked.
“Yeye, you no see the man so?” Ajoke hissed in pidgin. “Na zero carats that one get oh!”
They burst out laughing, and the joke was forgotten.
But later that night as she was going to bed, Mira recalled the moment with a smile. Putting aside her undeniable attraction to Dominic, she was beginning to admire his personality. She marvelled at his tenacity, his jovial and carefree attitude and his perspective of the world. She remembered how he had held the baby of a local fisherman and his family whom they met on the beach. He knew them, and after chatting with them he took a picture of the family and discreetly gave them some money. But Mira had been looking, and for a moment that single act had filled her heart with so much love and admiration that she had toyed with the idea of a future with him in it. She yearned to know him better – to see what he saw, to feel what he felt. She wondered about his family, if he had brothers and sisters, and suddenly realised she knew nothing about him, apart from his photography.
And then like lightning it hit her: I don’t even know if he has a girlfriend.
The thought squeezed her heart with so much jealousy it rendered her breathless. What if he does? she thought wildly, feeling her fantasies fade in the air like the smoke from a stomped-out fire. Of course not … it didn’t seem as if he did. He had never mentioned it, but then she had not asked either … and she didn’t plan to do so. I’m pretty sure he is single, she assured herself. But then her Rational Mind reared up its head. Oh don’t be silly, Mira … of course the man is hooked up. How many, hard-working and successful men in Lagos are free, single and searching? 0.01%! – his height alone would make women go gaga – and he is loaded. He’s hitched, forget it.
“You’re right,” Mira sighed. Dejected, she shut her eyes, feeling the knife of disappointment slice through her like a sharpened machete through fresh grass.
Seven
“Mira please, for heaven’s sake, drop that phone and help me with this cake!”
“OK, fine.” Mira snickered as she turned off her phone and helped Sade wheel the giant wedding cake into the reception hall. “See? It’s off now … no need to keep rapping about it.”
Sade sent her a dirty look. “I’ll be rapping one thing – your head – if I hear any message notifications from that BlackBerry again.”
“I’m sorry … I promise not to. They were just messages from Lauren … she wanted to know how the photo shoot has been going so far.”
Sade wiped a sweaty brow as she placed a glass swan figurine beside the cake stand. “But it’s been going well, hasn’t it?”
She shrugged. “It was till two days ago. Then, thanks to torrential rain, we had to call off the shoot on the beach before we had finished.” She sighed as she looked out of a window. “I just hope it stops. We still have a long way to go.”
“Don’t worry, it will. You know Lagos weather – I’m actually grateful it is not flooding yet. Everything will be fine.” They grinned at each other, and Sade stood back. “OK, so how does the hall look? Did I do a good job?”
Mira looked at the decorated banquet hall. The walls and windows were decked with deep-pink drapes with embroidered purple ribbon flowers. The tables and chairs were covered in white silk and covered in tiny fuchsia hearts. Dim white skylights were fixed to the ceiling, giving the room a cool, elegant feel. Pink roses and lavender flowers sat in porcelain pots on the tables, scented candles placed strategically around them, and the combination of scents made the air fragrant.
“As usual, it’s amazing! Remember, you’ll be in charge of the décor at my wedding.” She turned to the cake. “And you did a good job with … oh my God.” she stuttered to a halt, her eyes wide.
Sade hurried towards her. “What, what … is something wrong with the cake?”
Mira pointed towards one of the decorated pillars, a few metres away from the cake stand. A man was standing with a camera in his hands. “That is … that’s Dominic over there,” she whispered. He was dressed in a black jacket and white tie, a different look from his usual attire of jeans and T-shirts. Mira had never seen him looking so smart, and the sight made her feel flustered. Thankfully she wasn’t looking so bad herself – she was dressed in a clingy red dress and black shoes with rose-red flowers stitched at the heels. Without being smug she was oozing with confidence.
But seeing him sent that confidence flying out of the window and whistling into the Lagos Lagoon.
Sade was grinning with admiration. “Yes, I remember him, the perfect gentleman,” she giggled and nudged Mira’s shoulder. “You are one lucky girl, Mira Diva … you get to work with this hotness every day. I am so jealous.”
Mira rolled her eyes – of course she was lucky, if battling the maelstrom of emotions that enveloped her whenever she saw the man could be called luck. She quickly turned to the exit – she did not want to see him. But Sade gripped her elbow, stopping her. “Where are you going? Won’t you say hello?”
“Er … no, not really,” she stammered.
“Why?”
“Sade, let me go!” Mira hissed.
But Sade wasn’t listening. “I think we should say hello to him,” she stated with finality, and before Mira could protest she called out his name.
He looked up, frowning, but immediately he saw Mira his eyes brightened. He came over to them. “Wow … Mira!” he exclaimed. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes … what are you doing here?”
Mira’s heart leapt at his words – he did seem pleased to see her. But she still felt like sinking into the fuchsia-carpeted floor, so she pretended to be surprised to see him. “Dominic! I should be asking you that – what are you doing here?”
“Oh, I’m the photographer for the wedding … the groom is a longtime friend of mine,” Dominic said. He noticed her questioning look and smiled. �
�The crew isn’t here – Rufus had a gig in Ibadan and Ajoke has a date. So what about you … what are you doing here?”
“Well I—”
“I’m the wedding planner!” Sade cut in, giggling, and Mira rolled her eyes. “Hello, I’m Sade, Mira’s best friend. I met you at the office … I’ve heard so much about you.”
He smiled. “Oh, you have? Just how much have you heard?” He looked over at Mira and winked.
“T-That was just a turn of phrase,” Mira said.
Sade giggled again, louder this time. “Oh, we know!” she said, batting her eyelids. Mira frowned at her – what was wrong with her friend? Sade never giggles, at least not like this.
Just then one of the decorators caught Sade’s attention – guests were already arriving. She turned to Mira. “OK, I have to go Mira Diva … catch you later! Just find a really good table and be comfortable!” She blew Dominic a kiss. “Take care, Dominic Domino! And please watch out for that pretty Afro queen beside you – even if it means sitting with her at the same damned table! I don’t want to go looking for my friend or else …” She gave him a mock glare and giggled. Dominic laughed and waved while Mira snarled at her. She winked and they watched her walk away with the decorator, muttering orders.
Finally Mira broke the silence. “I can’t believe she just called you Dominic Domino. What are you now … a slice of pizza?”
He laughed. “But she seems nice. You’ve got a friend for life there, Mira.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He was still staring. “Have you seen that movie The Wedding Planner?” he asked dreamily.
She scowled at him. “Forget it … she has a boyfriend.”
He jabbed his fist in the air. “Dammit! Why are the good ones always taken?”
She gave him a sideways glance and sighed. “Tell me about it.”
***
During the reception, the DJ began playing Davido’s Aye, and everyone rushed to the dance floor as if they had been waiting for centuries to do so. Mira was sitting alone at her table, swishing a champagne flute around in her hand (her third glass of the evening) with a bored expression on her face, when Dominic walked up to her, his hands thrust into his pockets. “You keep drinking like that I’ll be forced to drive you home myself.”
Mira threw him a look. “I came with my own ride, Mr Smooth Operator. So there’s no chance of me vomiting in the exquisite interior of your Benz!”
He wrinkled his nose with disgust. “Whoa … that is so gross! Oh God … I don’t want to visualise – oh, I am visualising it … damn you, woman!”
She tutted. “The kettle calling the pot black – you have sworn twice just this evening. Let’s see what other antics you come up with, Mr Righteous.”
“Hey, you bring out the worst in me … how about that?” He sat beside her. “So why aren’t you dancing? Scared of being contaminated by germ-infested sweat from people on the dance floor?” He continued hurriedly as she grabbed her bag, ready to hit him, “And, before you crack my head with that two-kilogram jewelled bag, that was a joke!”
“Idiot.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“You love pushing my buttons … do you get some kind of pleasure from it?”
He looked at her and Mira stared back, mesmerised. When she began to feel like there was nobody else in the room but her and him alone, he stood up and stretched his hand out to her. “Would you like to dance?”
“I-I don’t dance.”
“Come on, Mira, everyone dances once in a while. That lie is too blatant – you could do better than that.”
She shook her head once. “No, really, I’m not much of a dancer; I don’t even know any moves. You’ll be bored in two seconds.”
He grinned at her. “Let me be the judge of that.”
Mira didn’t know if it was the alcohol swirling around her brain or Dominic’s masculine scent but when he led her to the floor she loosened up, her legs springing into moves that had been alien to her. Soon she was laughing as he manoeuvred her through the dancing crowd. They danced for hours, and, when they left the hall to inhale the cool night air, they were both laughing like two school kids.
They found an isolated park bench and sat gazing in silence at the indigo sky with its thousands of stars glittering like silver jewels on a magician’s cape, the crescent moon shining brighter than usual. Lagos had never been this beautiful at night. She snuggled closer to him, shivering slightly, and he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She smiled at him in thanks, and he smiled back. They sat quietly for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. She wanted to throw her hands around him and kiss him madly and show him how he made her feel. She wanted to tell him how he had changed everything about her these past three weeks, how he made her smile and laugh without caring where she was. He had transformed her from Miss Uppity to Miss Carefree. But Dominic’s impassive face and stiff shoulders made her hesitate. So she sat in silence, not offering a word and not expecting any from him.
He, however, broke the ice. “You look so beautiful today, by the way,” he said in such a small voice that Mira wouldn’t have heard it if she wasn’t already looking at him. It was a compliment. The words of the compliment were overflowing with emotion. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers intertwined.
Mira smiled at him. “Is that a compliment or just one of your usual wisecracks?”
He looked at her, a little offended. “I’ve never mocked your looks, Mira. You know I haven’t.”
She knew. He made light-hearted jokes but he had never said anything hurtful. He was the opposite of the men she had dated in the past. He was boisterous, easy-going and honest. Why hadn’t she gone out with men like him? Why did she choose the jerks; the chauvinistic bad boys who treated her like dirt? Had she been trying to prove that, no matter how bad-natured a man was, she would be able to crack him, to peel away the layers of machismo and reveal a polished, softer side? When had that fantasy started … when she had been dumped by Lionel? Tony? Insulted by her last boyfriend, Kunle? She couldn’t tell.
He was still talking, so she tried to return to the present. “… and if there was a time I did such a thing, then I’m sorry for doing so. Because, Mira, you are a very beautiful woman.” He stared deeply into her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. “You are so beautiful, so smart and sometimes I feel like I-I don’t deserve—”
She cut him off mid-sentence and kissed him.
For those few seconds she didn’t even know what she was doing – she felt transported out of her body, watching herself in slow-motion. He started, his eyes wide open, meeting hers. She saw herself slowly slip her arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss, feeling every nerve in her body liquefy like molten lava. He tightened his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. Then after a heartbeat he pulled away, but she was already heady with desire. Her body was tingling and she didn’t feel chilly any more. Her lips were trembling and she touched them, her heart racing. It has never been this way, she said to herself. I have never felt a kiss so alive! She felt teleported, as if she were bungee jumping. Sneaking a glance at Dominic, she noticed just how close he had come; sitting still like a shell-shocked soldier who had returned from war. Did he feel it too? Did he feel anything like what I felt? She wanted to scream her questions, but then when you throw a man off-guard after plundering his lips so savagely, it is a bit difficult to start the conversation. You wait. So she waited, and a minute later when he still didn’t say a word, she felt the first stab of disappointment.
Finally he spoke: “We’d better go in … it’s getting cold out here.”
Mira didn’t reply, embarrassment numbing her. He looked down at his feet for a long time, disconnected and so quiet she was forced to look over at him. “A–are you alright?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “I-If it’s the kiss … I’m sorry for not letting you know before—”
Dominic raised his eyes to look straight at her. “It’s not the kiss.”
“What then?”
“I-I can’t tell. I can’t describe it.”
Was that a good thing? What does a 21st-century Nigerian woman say when a man tells her he can’t describe how he feels minutes after sharing a kiss? Could be good or bad, but Mira didn’t want to shake the dice and find out. “It was just a kiss – you are not obliged to marry me,” she muttered.
He sighed. “I’m in an odd place right now, Mira. I’ve just come out of a relationship – that day at Cocoa Burn, yeah, the night before my girlfriend of four years had broken up with me. She told me she was getting married to a senator, a man twice her age.” He stared into the dark. “I’ve been in such a dark place … I couldn’t have made it without Rufus and Ajoke.”
She suddenly felt morose. The night didn’t seem so magical at all; it was foggy with hazy question marks floating in the air. “Why are you telling me this?” she wanted to know.
He looked at her, his handsome face lit by the moonlight. But he soon looked away, letting out a sigh as he stared at his hands. “Never mind,” he said, standing up. “Let’s go back inside.”
Mira grabbed his elbow, stopping him. “No – seriously, why? So we shared a kiss – it’s no big deal. We’re both adults and attracted to each other. Stuff like this happens.” Then she looked at him and asked in an irritable voice, “What … you think I have feelings for you?”
“You tell me.” He smiled. “You just kissed me two minutes ago.”
She felt anger well up in her. “T–that was spontaneous! I had too many glasses of champagne to know what I was doing!”
“Well, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Feel something for me?”
She gave a false laugh. “This is ridiculous!”
Black Sparkle Romance Page 5
