Love and Hiplife

by Nana Prah

  “No,” Lamisi growled out.

  Her friend laughed. “I didn’t think so. You’re too much of a stickler for the rules to get involved with your students.”

  “You’re right about that. Plus I had negative zero interest in any of them.”

  “Doesn’t mean they didn’t have any in you. And what about your co-workers?”

  Lamisi ate her milkshake as she pondered the phone conversation. Could it be a colleague? She rarely engaged with anyone outside of discussing work. Minding her own business was her main priority.

  Precious ignored the strawberry cupcake on her plate. “Tell me about what happened with Blaise.”

  The hairs on her arms rose with exhilaration at the mention of his name. “We kissed.”

  “I saw that part. Good thing the air conditioner was on because you two would’ve driven us out with the heat you were generating.”

  Lamisi shook her head. “It wasn’t that dramatic.”

  “Huh. Your leg was curled around him, Lamisi. And don’t think I didn’t see where his hands had landed.” Precious giggled. “Who knows what piece of furniture might have gotten broken with your activities if I hadn’t come in when I did.”

  She scooped a spoonful of the chilled dessert into her mouth to help cool her embarrassment.

  “You know I’m not judging you. In my opinion, you’re way overdue for romance. And from what I’ve learned about Blaise, he’s a good guy.” She rested her elbows on the table. “What shocked me was that it happened so quickly. One minute, I was harassing you to call him and you’re sticking to your guns. The next, you’re slathered on him like Nutella on bread.”

  Lamisi confessed everything that had gone down in the recording studio, including the suggestion to travel with him to Côte d’Ivoire and how she’d been willing to accept his offer of taking things slowly.

  “Slow?” Precious screeched. “You two?” She swiped her hands through the air. “No. Never. Not at all. What made you agree to that? Even the hug you guys shared when we left his place sparked up the room. I had to hold Amadu back from flinging you two apart.”

  Lamisi’s leg jiggled under the table as she breathed out through palms cupped over her nose and mouth. Admission time. “He scares me.”

  Precious tipped her head to the side. “How?”

  “He seems too perfect, you know? Plus he’s a star who’s accustomed to dating stunning, glamorous women. Not someone simple like me.” She stirred the spoon in the milkshake, remembering how uncomfortable she’d become when he’d told her about how he saw her. She longed to exemplify the woman he’d described. “Even though I believe him about Deola, I still get a sense that there’s more to the story than he’s telling me.”

  “First of all, don’t downplay yourself. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. And you have excellent taste in friends. That says a whole lot about how fabulous you are.”

  Lamisi chuckled. No one could ever knock down Precious’s self-esteem. Her name ensured it.

  “You’re like a superhero with all the languages you speak and understand. It’s not a gift anyone else I’ve ever met possesses. And you’re helping him by using it. Didn’t you say that his French is a little better because of how you compared it to Ewe? Who else would’ve been able to do that? Your skills are saving his musical behind.”

  Lamisi knew better, but kept her mouth shut. The man was determined, and he would’ve gotten the work done. It just happened that she’d been around to help him.

  She chewed on a chunk of brownie from the milkshake.

  “You forget that I’ve known you forever. He’s not like any of your exes.” Precious held up a hand when Lamisi opened her mouth to speak. “Those guys who cheated on you were useless scum. They didn’t deserve you, and I could see it from miles away. You know me, though. Live and let live.”

  Lamisi cranked up a brow. “Is that what you were doing when you told me to dump the military man?”

  Precious held a palm to her chest. “In my defence, that was the first and only guy I mentioned was bad for you.”

  Her friend’s memory must be slipping with age. “What about the teacher? You butt your nose into every relationship I have. Live and let live, my ass.”

  “That’s neither here nor there. You have to admit that I was right.”

  The reluctant grunt sounded as her answer. Her friend knew her too well.

  “Lamisi, you can’t stop dating because you think a man might cheat on you. You’ve declined every guy who’s asked you out in the past year.”

  The go-to excuse came to her lips. “I’ve been busy with my doctorate.”

  “You realize who you’re talking to, right? That won’t fly with me.”

  She was glad she had someone to hold her accountable.

  Precious peeled the paper from her remaining cupcake and took a bite.

  “So good,” she mumbled around the confection. “Can I make a suggestion?”

  As if anything Lamisi said would stop the outspoken woman. “Go ahead.”

  “You getting your PhD is like me receiving one, too. That’s how invested I am in your success. You’re too efficient for even me sometimes. I know your schedule of progress. Take him up on his offer to go to Côte d’Ivoire. You’ll have a rested brain to tackle the last leg of your research. Spending time alone with him will be good for both of you.”

  Lamisi blinked several times. “What?”

  “I’m not saying you should sleep with him.” Precious winked. “Not saying you shouldn’t, either.”

  “Oh my goodness!”

  “I want you to loosen up and have a good time. Get to know him on a level you wouldn’t while on home turf. I’m sure he’s not as well-known there, so you’ll be able to roam without worrying about him getting recognized like he would here.”

  She had a point.

  “You’ll get to visit Melanie and her family in Abidjan like you’ve been promising to do for years.”

  A smile crept onto her face at the mention of their mutual friend.

  “And you can stay in the hotel of your choosing. I’d go for one with five stars myself. Take in a couple of concerts so he can get a better ear for the music. You need the break. The tail end of this dissertation has been stressing you out, which has been stressing me. We both need you to go away on vacation and relax.”

  They broke out laughing.

  “He’s a good guy, and you can glam up like the best of them when you want to. Give him a chance.”

  “Are you done with the lecture, Professor Romance?”

  She held up a finger. “Just one more thing.”

  After several seconds of silence, Lamisi gave in and asked, “What is it?”

  “Listen to your instincts. If you had done that when you first met him, you two would probably be married and pregnant with triplets by now.”

  Lamisi sucked her teeth at her friend’s silliness. Her point was valid, though. Listening to her gut had never steered her wrong. Where her instincts had wanted to get to know him better, fear of sustaining heartache by the man every woman wanted had made her stay away.

  From here on in, she’d trust her heart and see what happened. She’d still be cautious, but at least, she’d give him a chance. Hopefully, he wouldn’t disappoint her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The flight landed in Côte d’Ivoire the Thursday after Lamisi had surprised Blaise with the offer of escorting him. She’d reminded him that the cost of the venture would be on him. Yet, she’d taken things in hand by organizing the flight and the hotel.

  He’d appreciated her consulting with him before confirming any bookings. As if they were a team in making the decisions.

  “I’m only here for the weekend,” she’d told him. “That’s enough for you to get accustomed to the place so you’ll be comfortable staying longer if you want to. I think the baptism by fire will allow you to acquire an accent that won’t cause your French listeners to curse you out for defiling their language.”
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br />   He’d laughed at her joke while understanding its seriousness. His career depended on this excursion. At least Armand, his French tutor, had told him he’d been impressed by his improved intonation during their sessions.

  In the taxi, on the way to their hotel, Blaise took in the city. He hadn’t expected it to be so advanced. After the country’s civil wars, he was glad to see that the political strife they’d experienced hadn’t damaged too much of the infrastructure, at least in Abidjan.

  War could never rival the benefits of peace.

  He pulled out his phone and recorded the words. He’d flesh out the song later. In the meantime, he listened to the conversation between Lamisi and the driver like she’d suggested. Understanding everything was impossible, but he wasn’t completely lost, either. When he joined in, the driver smiled while Lamisi leaned close and gently corrected him with a whisper.

  Tingles coursed from the top of his head down his spine every time it happened. He resisted the temptation of drawing her to his side and seducing her with words that would have her dropping her guard and initiating kisses.

  He’d honour their agreement of taking things slow. It was probably better. His parents wouldn’t approve of her being a Christian. This had become blaringly clear when he’d presented such a prospect to his mother the other day. She hadn’t been happy.

  Maybe it would be better if he backed off. An impossible concept to sell to his racing heart when he looked at her. He’d just have to see how things went. Lamisi didn’t seem disturbed by him being a Muslim. Maybe she’d be willing to convert before they got married.

  Whoa. They hadn’t known each other for a month, and he was thinking of marriage? Way too soon.

  He shook his head and returned his attention to the view outside the window. This street in Abidjan reminded him of Accra with the hawkers walking amongst the vehicles and selling their wares as they sat in traffic. He looked forward to playing the role of a proper tourist.

  The hotel Lamisi had chosen sat in the heart of the city.

  The stylish lobby of the multi-story building impressed him—the kind of place that charged in US dollars instead of the local currency of franc.

  Having been in his home and learning how much he enjoyed the comforts of life, she’d decided that only the best would do. Yet another positive quality about her. They kept adding up.

  After getting settled into their rooms, they met in the hallway thirty minutes later.

  “Where are we off to?” he asked as the elevator carried them to the lobby.

  “To visit my friend and her family. I haven’t seen her in ages. And it will give you a chance to listen and practice in a comfortable setting.”

  He could handle that. An intimate group to practice with would be better than speaking in front of strangers.

  They got into a taxi waiting at the front of the hotel. Lamisi gave the address. The driver programmed it into his phone and then took off.

  She turned to Blaise with the biggest smile on her face. “Repeat after me. J'adore parler français. C'est une langue tellement expressive.”

  He did it … only to have the driver glance at him in the rear-view mirror and chuckle. He knew it wasn’t the statement he’d repeated about him liking to speak French because it was such an expressive language.

  The driver hadn’t blinked when Lamisi had said it.

  She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. “Don’t mind him. You really are getting better,” she proclaimed.

  He squeezed back, letting the ego that had gotten kicked in the teeth recover as he relaxed in her reassurance.

  ***

  After years of promising to visit her friend, Lamisi had finally ended up on her doorstep in Côte d’Ivoire. All because of Blaise.

  The conversation with Precious had freed up whatever had bound her. She’d determined herself as worthy of everything and everyone she desired, including the soon-to-be King of Francohip. Not all men were the same. She needed to keep that on a loop in her mind, and everything would work out.

  Melanie’s screams when she opened the door brought out Lamisi’s own squeals as they hugged.

  The French flowed fast and furious as the world dropped away.

  “It’s so good to see you again. Why did it take you so long to get here?” Melanie asked as she held both of Lamisi’s hands and cut off the circulation to her fingers.

  “I could ask the same.” Lamisi pushed her bottom lip out into a deep pout. “When was the last time you stepped foot in Ghana to visit me?”

  “Oh, no, my friend, you will not turn the tables. All blame goes to you.”

  Lamisi giggled.

  “It’s so good to see you. You look magnificent.” Her gaze fell to Melanie’s pregnant belly and then up to her rich dark brown skin. “You’re glowing.”

  Melanie turned in a circle.

  “Thank you. My baby is fantastic. I feel good most of the time, and I only have two more months to go.” She rubbed her abdomen. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Me, too.”

  A clearing of the throat brought the women’s attention to the entrance.

  Two pair of eyes stared at the chocolate-skinned, tall, athletic, heart-wrenchingly handsome man flashing his gleaming teeth at them.

  Lamisi took the couple of steps to reach him and rested a hand on his arm.

  “Blaise Ayoma, this is my good friend, Melanie Ettien.”

  The two shook hands.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Melanie,” Blaise said in French.

  At least, it no longer made Lamisi’s eye twitch.

  Melanie smiled when she responded in her colonial language. “You, too.”

  Her gaze didn’t wander from Blaise’s face for several seconds as her brows creased together.

  An unfamiliar sense of possessiveness drove Lamisi to lean in close enough to him so their arms touched. She ignored him when, from her peripheral vision, she noticed him glance down at her.

  Melanie shook her head and blinked.

  “Please,” she said in English. “Pardon me for staring. It’s just that you look familiar.” And then, her eyes lit up, and she snapped her fingers with excitement. “Oh, my. You’re the Ghanaian hiplife artist Bizzy.”

  She reached out and took his hand, shaking it so hard that the strong man’s body vibrated. “My friends won’t believe this.”

  “How about a picture for proof?”

  “Okay.” Melanie picked up her phone from the table, tapped the screen a few times, and thrust it at Lamisi.

  Amused, Lamisi took the photos. So much for him not being recognized in Côte d’Ivoire. “It seems your reach is farther than you thought.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said.

  Melanie touched the hair she’d bunched into a loose bun and looked down at herself. Then she turned hot eyes in Lamisi’s direction. “Oh mon Dieu, Lamisi. Pourquoi ne m'as-tu pas dit que tu amenais quelqu'un? Regarde-moi, je suis dans un piteux état.”

  “On the contrary.” He said in the sexy voice that held a catch of breath. “You’re as far from a mess as can be. You’re radiant,” he replied in English.

  Lamisi laughed at her friend’s gaping mouth. “He understands some French. He doesn’t speak it as well as he should … yet. That’s why we’re here. And of course, to visit you.”

  “Yes.” The English had returned. “You are more than welcome. Bizzy, where are my manners? Have a seat.”

  “Please, call me Blaise.”

  Melanie nodded with an unrelenting grin. “Blaise.”

  They settled in the living room of the cute single-story home.

  “Excuse me while I bring you some water.”

  Hospitality, just like in Ghana, reigned with their neighbouring country. No one came into their home without receiving water. The choice was up to the guest whether they’d drink it or not, but it was always presented.

  “Melanie is a bit vain. I’m shocked she agreed to the picture. In her excitement, she mus
t’ve forgotten that she wasn’t dressed to the nines,” Lamisi gossiped. “I’m sure she’ll return in a floor-length sparkly evening gown and a fully made-up face.”

  Blaise laughed. “I can’t believe she recognized me.”

  “Me, neither. Considering she spent her senior high school years in Ghana, maybe she follows the music.”

  She shrugged to downplay it, the selfish part of her not wanting him to be famous here. A nice, normal time of getting to know each other would suit her better.

  “It would be helpful if I had a fan base here. It’d make breaking into their music scene easier.”

  She waved down a hand. “Don’t worry, with the songs you’ve created, you’ll have no difficulty getting the people of this, and all the other Francophone countries, to love you.”

  His eyes softened as he slid closer to her. The kiss on her cheek was unexpected. Heat flushed her face.

  “What was that for?” One day, she would become accustomed to his random acts of affection rather than questioning it.

  He caught her fingers in his. “I appreciate your support. Not once have you told me I couldn’t make it. Or told me I should give up.”

  She hadn’t been perfect. “I presented it as an option.”

  “As part of the truth I needed to acknowledge because you were right about me sucking at French. But then, you helped me.”

  He kissed the back of her hand.

  A spiral of warmth settled in her chest.

  “And now, you’re spending time you could be using to work on your dissertation to help me even more. I can’t express how much I appreciate it.”

  She wasn’t as altruistic as he made her out to be. Should she tell him about the need she had to get to know him? The part about gaining a temporary break from school to relax and refresh her mind? A mini vacation that he was privileged to pay for?

  She didn’t get the chance. Her mouth was silenced when his lips brushed against hers, reminding her of their first kiss. If she were going to start something with him, she may as well be completely honest, at least physically.

  She reached her free palm up and grazed his cheek as he dove back in. His lips, full yet firm, nibbled hers. Demanding, yet yielding. She could kiss him for the rest of the time they had together, but the throbbing at her core told her it would lead to more than she was ready for.