Love and Hiplife

by Nana Prah

  The sound of something banging pulled her out of the magical experience of his touch.

  Prying her eyes open, Lamisi held back any sense of awkwardness as Melanie hovered above them holding a tray with a large bottle of water and two glasses beside it.

  The woman had changed into a red sequined top that stretched over her extended belly, a black skirt that flirted with her knees, and heels that her doctor would most likely warn her against wearing in her condition. And yes, the makeup was present and in full force.

  Holding in her laughter to the point where she thought she’d burst a major blood vessel, Lamisi stood and hugged her friend. It was nice to know that while Blaise was disrupting her world, some things never changed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Blaise and Lamisi had spent the taxi ride back to the hotel in silence. He figured she was all talked-out after the hours spent with her friend. He’d intermittently watched French-speaking television shows and listened to their conversation. Most of both had been lost on him.

  They hopped out of the taxi at their temporary residence.

  “Thanks for taking me to meet Melanie,” he said when they met up on the sidewalk. “I feel like I intruded on your time with your friend.”

  “No worries. We talk all the time on the phone. It was just a matter of seeing her after so long that hit us.”

  He rubbed his stomach. “She didn’t have to feed us so much.”

  “That would be like telling Aunty Vida not to do the same. Melanie is one of the most gracious people I’ve ever known. You’ll never leave her home without needing to spend the night, or at least take a nap, because you’re so stuffed.” She winked at him. “I saw you dozing for a few minutes there.”

  “Guilty. I still need to burn off some of the food. Want to take a walk?”

  “Sure."

  The sun was starting to sink in the sky, casting a golden pink light to view their surroundings. Abidjan reminded him of the main areas of Accra with the human and vehicular traffic trying to get home after a long day.

  Competing with restaurants, vendors sold food at the roadside. Grilled fish and fried plantain scented the air. Instead of the hot kenkey made with corn dough that was an evening staple at home, the residents here preferred attiéké.

  He’d been wary of the pellet-like food made from cassava when Melanie had presented it to them after they’d washed their hands. It had been complemented with fried fish and a concoction created from peppers, onions, tomatoes, oil, and spices.

  He’d watched how the ladies ate. Just like with many foods in Ghana, no utensils were necessary. He’d liked the mild flavour of the steamed cassava and hadn’t refused when Melanie had offered more.

  Music came from Lamisi’s bag. She dug through it and pulled out her cell phone. Her lips flattened into a tight line as she slammed her finger into the face of the screen, making the ringtone stop.

  “Who was that?”

  Did he have a right to ask? The fact that the call had irked her dropped a boulder of dread in his stomach.

  She flicked a hand. “Someone calling from an unknown number. I’ve blocked it every single time, but she calls from different lines because it always comes through.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood as the skin of his scalp tightened. Was he just feeling her own irritation? He’d always been sensitive, but never this empathetic. “Maybe they’re coming from different people.”

  “I doubt it. I answered once, and the woman threatened me. I’m pretty sure she was crazy because I had no idea what she was talking about. Ever since then, I don’t pick up unknown calls.”

  His agitation heightened as thoughts of Deola pinged across his brain. It couldn’t be her. As an unknown in the entertainment world, Lamisi was off everyone’s radar. He tamed the idea of Deola’s involvement. It seemed unlikely.

  The mystery still needed to be solved.

  “What did she accuse you of?”

  “It doesn’t matter because it isn’t true.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a definitive nod. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m sure she’ll get tired of playing her idiotic games if I don’t indulge her. She’ll realize the truth of her mistake soon enough.”

  The protector in him roared inside with the need to take care of her problem. Find a solution that wouldn’t leave her stressed each time her phone rang. The independent woman had made up her mind to handle it her way, and he’d respect her decision even if he didn’t like it.

  The least he could do was offer his assistance. “Let me know if you need me to do anything. I’m always willing to help.”

  “Thanks.”

  He budged her shoulder with his. “You’re saving my career. I’m in your debt.”

  “Language is my life. It’s my pleasure to assist.”

  “Thanks for the lesson you had Melanie give me on my French. I think it helped.”

  She smiled up at him. “With each encounter, you’re improving. Soon, you’ll sound like a local.”

  Her encouragement swelled his heart. “I hope so. By the way, I don’t mind if you ditch me to spend time with Melanie. I didn’t realize that coming here would be so much like Accra. Now I know and can handle it. You don’t need to be my guardian.”

  “You’re stuck with me and my tutorials, Bizzy. Melanie and her husband are travelling to visit her parents in Lakota early tomorrow and will return on Sunday. We’ll stop by before our flight back to Accra.”

  “I don’t mind.” He downplayed his excitement at being able to spend time with her. “What do you have planned for us?”

  “I read somewhere that you’re Muslim. If you agree, since tomorrow’s Friday, I thought we’d attend ṣalāt al-jum’ah at the Mosque of Plataea. It’s a gorgeous structure.”

  “Technically, yes, I am, but not practicing,” he answered. “Well, other than not eating pork or drinking alcohol. Along with the basic principle of respect ingrained within the religion, I’m not a practitioner.”

  “Oh.” The sides of her mouth drooped. “I didn’t know that.”

  At least, he’d been able to keep one thing away from the public.

  His heart raced as a revelation clicked. He stopped walking to look at her in the light transitioning from natural to artificial. Someone behind them almost rammed into him. He was happy to have recognized the insult thrown at him in French.

  Blaise pulled Lamisi closer to the building they’d stopped near. “You said we’d attend service there. Is that for my benefit?”

  She blinked up at him. “I may not be the most devout Muslim, but I like to attend jum’ah every once in a while.”

  His legs threatened to buckle. The one thing he’d worried about had been a moot point. Better to clarify just in case his stomach using up most of his blood in food digestion had left him delusional.

  “Are you a Muslim?”

  “Yes.”

  Amazed, it took him a beat to speak again. “How? Why?”

  She shrugged. “It’s the religion I identify with most. My parents raised us as Christian, but they encouraged us to explore and find our own spirituality. My mother was a Muslim who chose Christianity when she married my father.”

  “Why did you pick Islam over Christianity?”

  “I didn’t. Not really.” She spread her arms out wide and formed a circle with them by linking her hands. “It’s all the same thing. The same God with different names and too many misunderstandings between the people who practice their faiths to let them comprehend this.”

  He nodded in complete agreement. “Even within religions, there are differences and disagreements.”

  “Exactly. It would be better for the world if we realized that we’re all one.”

  She’d spoken the words he’d been trying to live all his life. “True.”

  “I’ve practiced as many religions as I could discover. Islam resonated within me.” She held a palm towards him as if to halt him from speaking. “I’ll be the first to admit
that it’s not perfect. After all, it’s a religion. But I like the way it respects the beliefs of others because Allah is the God of us all.”

  She lifted a slim shoulder and let it drop. “It’s what I’ve been practicing ever since. Perhaps not as well as I should, but I try. Sometimes—”

  Blaise leaned over and kissed her hard on the lips. Even that brief touch stirred a yearning in his chest. He wanted more, but held back.

  The country had been colonized by the French, but Africans in general tended to be conservative. Kissing in public, especially the way he longed to delve into the warmth of her mouth, would be frowned upon.

  Her tongue flicked out and licked her lips, keeping his attention there. Her gaze flittered to their environment before returning to his eyes. “Why’d you kiss me?”

  Because you’re extraordinary in every conceivable way and it hurts my muscles to restrain myself from touching you.

  “It’s a celebration of you being Muslim.”

  One more reason to appreciate that they might belong together. They’d only know for sure with time, but so far, he could envision being with her long term.

  Now to make her see it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The colossal mosque held a magnificent glory that Lamisi had never experienced before in a place of worship. Inside and out. Did Blaise being by her side before they’d split into their designated male and female areas have anything to do how her spirit had lifted with excitement?

  She stepped out of the women’s area of the mosque feeling fulfilled and connected to Allah and his creation. It took a while for her to catch sight of Blaise’s wide-shouldered stance, towering height, chocolate skin, and defined features among the exodus of males. Her breathing hitched when he came into view. Stunning.

  His dark eyes searched the female portion of the crowd. When his gaze met hers and he smiled, time stood still. Her heart threatened to lurch out of her chest with the force of its beats. She took her time descending on shaky legs to meet him at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Hi,” she managed to get out in a low, breathy voice, caught up in the fact that this man wanted to be with her.

  “Hey. How was the service?”

  “I loved it. Almost makes me want to become completely devout.” She held up a finger knowing it would never happen. She enjoyed spirituality more than the religious aspect. “Almost.”

  He chuckled.

  “I understand what you mean. The place is spectacular. The energy in the atmosphere transcended me to a state of being ethereal.” He held out his hand and it quivered. “Even now, I’m having trouble acclimating to my body.”

  He’d expressed her sentiment in such an articulate manner. If they weren’t at a mosque, she’d be the one to plant a kiss on him. “Me, too.”

  Ready to leave the space where people continued to flow around them, she stepped to the side and bumped into someone.

  Lamisi recognized the man’s Arabic roots when she looked at him.

  “As-salāmu’alaykum. Ana asfeh.” She greeted in Arabic and then apologized.

  The man stopped and cocked his head before returning her greeting of peace. “‎Wa’aleikum salaam Wa-rahmatullahi wa-barakatuh.”

  He then asked if she spoke Arabic.

  “Yes, I do,” she responded in his language and watched as his bearded face smiled. Before he could ask her any further questions, she added, “One of my former colleagues in Ghana was Lebanese. When we became friends, I picked up her language.”

  The handsome man, somewhere in his early thirties, stepped closer. Blaise’s heat touched her from behind.

  If the man’s wide eyes were any indication, he was impressed. “You learned Arabic by ear?”

  “Yes. Languages are a gift of mine.”

  “No matter what else you may speak, Allah has blessed you abundantly with the language of Arabic.”

  Laughter sprinkled out of her.

  “I see.” She continued the conversation in his language. “My friend told me something similar.”

  Blaise cupped a hand over her elbow. A show of possessiveness that elicited a bubbling giddiness in her chest.

  She glanced up at him. His narrowed eyes and snarled upper lip were directed at the stranger.

  “We should get going,” Blaise said in English, his voice deeper than normal.

  She recognized jealousy when she saw it. She probably shouldn’t be so happy about it, but when had anyone cared about another man’s response to her? Never.

  “It was nice speaking with you,” she said in English to keep Blaise in the conversation.

  The man’s eyes rose to Blaise’s face, and he stepped back with a nod. “Etsharafna, ma' el salameh.”

  With a contagious grin and a lift of his hand, he left.

  Blaise stalked the guy with his eyes. “What did he just say?”

  She shrugged to keep the situation light while her insides danced. “That I’m the most intriguing woman he’s ever met, and he wished my overbearing bodyguard weren’t around to block his chances.”

  He stepped closer, towering. “He didn’t say all of that.”

  “The language is word efficient.” She took off down the street towards the hotel with her hijab still covering her head as the mosque mandated for women to worship. She needed to change out of her long-sleeved top and ankle-length skirt into something more heat-friendly.

  He strode down the street with her. “You can stop playing now. What did he say?”

  “He told me it was nice talking with me and that I should take care.”

  “Huh. On the mountain, you told me that you speak eight languages, but what are they? I don’t want to be shocked the next time one comes flying out of your mouth.”

  She chuckled. “Let’s see. I’ll count Twi and Fante as one because they’re both Akan. English, French, Hausa as you very well know, Ewe—which I picked up from Precious, Ga which is my father’s tribe, Dagbani, from my mother’s people, and Arabic.”

  No longer afraid to boast for fear of overwhelming him, she smirked. “I understand more languages than I speak, so please don’t think you can talk about me in front of my face and get away with it.”

  His shoulders shook with his booming laugh. “I’m sure that even if I created my own language, you’d be able to understand. You have an uncanny way of reading people, not just understanding what they say.”

  She stared at him in wide-eyed awe. He’d noticed that about her? What else had he gleaned? Maybe that she was still scared about getting involved with him although she thought she might almost be ready.

  Shaking fears from the past proved harder than people who said, “Get over it,” made it out to be.

  “What if I told you to your face that I find you to be incredible?” he said in Hausa. The language streamed beautifully and resonated within her. “From what I’ve encountered and seen of you, you’re generous with your time and soft-hearted towards those you love. You smile freely at people you don’t know, which I’m sure brightens their day as much as it does mine.” He tapped the centre of his chest. “It has the ability to make my heart flutter.”

  She bowed her head, cheeks bunched with her grin. The man was too much. No one other than him had ever spoken to her in such a poetic manner before.

  Not the time to act shy. Raising her head, she pulled her shoulders back and looked up into his eyes. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  They reached the hotel a few minutes later.

  “After I change, I thought we’d get something to eat. Melanie recommended a few places in the same area. We could check them out and see which one is the best.”

  “Cool.”

  They headed up to their rooms. At their doors, Blaise reached out for her and pulled her into a hug. She wound her arms around him and leaned her head against the strength of his shoulder.

  Hadn’t she wanted this for the past week? The security of being in a man’s arms thrilled her. She willed him to hold her for
the rest of the trip. For the rest of her life.

  She snapped her eyes open as terror clawed at her. Thoughts of the future with someone she was still getting to know weren’t supposed to be in her scope of thought. Maybe heat had gotten trapped in her skull from wearing the hijab. She released him, and he followed suit.

  The kiss to her cheek eased her trepidation. Moments like this made her feel as if he cared and could also see them progressing through life together. If she were more confident, she’d capture his lips and kiss him as if he were the last thing her mouth would ever devour.

  He pulled away, leaving her body to cool.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

  She didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. Taking things to another level would require more than a few days of interacting. The prickly warmth of her skin at his offer told her differently.

  Listening to her body would make things complicated when she wanted simplicity.

  Too late.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Lamisi flopped across her hotel room bed at the early hour of nine p.m. and let out a huge yawn. The day spent with Blaise had been perfect. Not only did the locals no longer do a double-take and snicker when he spoke their language, but they’d had fun.

  Blaise’s talent wasn’t limited to constructing song lyrics. Jokes also featured on his specialty list.

  A day of exploring Abidjan had included a beautiful walk on the beach and a dinner of fresh grilled red snapper paired with her now favourite attiéké. She hadn’t wanted the day to end. To be apart from him.

  Serious, PhD-oriented Lamisi disappeared when they were together, replaced by the giggly teenager she’d once been. Anyone who knew her would be surprised at how laidback she was when with Blaise.

  It must be the fact that he didn’t seem to take much seriously. Granted, he was a focused man and knew how to handle issues. Yet, his main priority seemed to enjoy life.