by Dhasi Mwale
“I’m sure you’ll do better next time,” Josiah said.
His words hit her chest dead centre and stopped her heart. She blinked and gritted her teeth to contain the angry words fighting for vocalization. “What makes you think I’m the one who messed up?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying you’re too hard on yourself. You’re new to the business. Mistakes will be made.”
“That sounds like you are telling me I made a mistake.” She stabbed a chicken strip.
Josiah frowned but didn’t speak. A response that was inherently characteristic of him. He backed down whenever a situation grew tense or threatened to become emotional. She’d liked this about him once, but not now when all she required was a conduit for her pain. Some form of release for the emotions whirling inside her, wrecking her logic and plans. She needed him to not back down.
No such luck.
Katenekwa scowled at Josiah for the rest of lunch. Typical. This was why she never talked about work with him. He always had to find a reason things wouldn’t work out, or he had to make a suggestion. Sure, they were often helpful suggestions, but she didn’t need him to be her business mentor. She needed him to be…
Huh. She wasn’t sure what she needed Josiah to be.
***
Josiah pulled into Media GQ’s visitor’s car park. They’d taken his car at his insistence. If she didn’t have hers, he’d argued, there was no way she’d bail on him in the middle of lunch for a work emergency.
Sound argument. Josiah was a sound and practical man. So why didn’t he make her heart beat faster like Wezi did? Why?
Katenekwa fidgeted with her seat belt, not making too much of an effort to unclasp it. The purse nestled on her lap was heavier than she remembered. She’d already made the decision to invite him to the gala, so why was she hesitating?
It wasn’t like she was planning to invite Wezi or anything. She was leaning towards slipping the invite under Lilian’s door and forgetting the whole thing. The coward’s way out.
Leaving it all in the hands of God or the universe or whatever, she pulled out the envelope. “So, um, I got the invite for the Keystone gala. It’s on Friday. That is if you’re still interested. It’s also a pass for the festival if you feel like coming. I know you don’t like parties, but it would mean a lot to me if you came,” she said, making no attempt to sound coherent.
Josiah’s lips curled into a warm smile that broke her heart. “Why wouldn’t I want to come?”
“I don’t know. If something came up, I’d understand.”
“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you. But I do want something in return.”
“What’s that?”
“You know I wouldn’t trade the time we’ve spent together for anything. It’s been fun, but I want more. I want a proper relationship. I think it’s about time, don’t you?”
Katenekwa’s shoulders tensed. Had he seen her body go rigid? “You know how things are right now, Josiah. And though I want this to move forward, it wouldn’t be fair to you. I wouldn’t be putting in any effort,” she said, even though she didn’t buy the excuse. Why couldn’t she like this man as much as he desired her?
“It’s not a job, Kay. It doesn’t require that much effort. Am I the only one here who wants this to work?”
“You know it’s not like that. I like you. I really do. It’s just that I’m trying to get my business off the ground. It’s tough right now.”
“You were doing fine before this contract. Besides, you’re just going to get busier after the festival. What would you have me do? Wait indefinitely? I need to know where I stand.”
Katenekwa sucked in her lower lip. Her heart began to race for all the wrong reasons. “I was planning weddings, Josiah. Low budget weddings. This is my dream. I wish you’d understand.”
“I do.” His shoulders drooped. “You don’t seem happy, is all. You used to be so happy.”
Used to be. She couldn’t deny that. When she’d hardened her heart to Wezi, she’d shut it away from everyone, herself included. Hidden from life and love, her joy dimmed. She had to keep her heart safe, even if its cage would be its death. And soon, maybe, she could release it, and it would be able to love Josiah. But for now, it hurt too much to set it free.
“I am happy,” she said, her voice terse, her resolve firm. Her heart refused to believe the lie. Happiness. The kind of happiness her heart desired? That was a fantasy. Her phone pinged, and she glanced at the caller ID. “This is Lillian again. I better go inside. I’ll call you.”
He grabbed her hand. “Promise me you’ll think about what I said.”
She nodded, slipped out, and hurried away. Hurried away from the man she knew was the logical choice for her. Everything about Josiah was right for her. They had shared interests. They both understood that fun had its place, and adult life wasn’t that place. Their connection made sense. A match so perfectly in sync on paper, except he made her feel nothing.
What was wrong with her? He was everything she thought a man should be. But lately, she’d begun to detest how men made her feel. Maybe what she needed in her life was less of them. None of them seemed to understand how much this contract meant to her.
Lillian met her in the lobby. “I’ve been calling. Your car’s here.”
“I know. I was out for lunch.”
“Wezi again?” She raised a brow.
“No. Wezi went home.” Katenekwa chafed under Lillian’s disapproval. Not that it mattered anymore.
“Mike was looking for you.”
“Is it about the AV guys? I swear I’ll get it done tomorrow.” That and about a dozen other things. Lists needed re-prioritizing.
“No. It’s about Wezi. Media GQ wants to sign him.”
“Oh, wow. That’s great news.” Elation and fear battled for attention. She was happy for him, as a friend. But, on the other hand, her worst fears were about to come true. “But why did you want to talk to me about it?”
“Because your friend,” Lillian instilled every drop of disdain in the word friend, “refused our offer, again."
Katenekwa blinked at the news, and her heart responded by jumping off a hundred-foot cliff. Leave it to Wezi to find fault with every musician’s dream. What was wrong with that guy? “Wait. What do you mean again?”
“I've been trying to sign him for years. He’s talented. He’s gorgeous. He’s every talent manager’s dream. He’s also stubborn, unyielding. But by God, I want that boy on my team.” Lillian rubbed her temples and sighed. “Mike wants you to change his mind….”
Obviously, Mike thought she had more sway than she actually did. “I can’t help. When Wezi makes up his mind about something, no one can change it. I’ll ask. It’s all I can promise.”
“Your friend has issues.”
Katenekwa’s first instinct was to defend Wezi, but she couldn’t find the words. How do you support a guy who rejects the one thing he’s been working toward?
Signing with Media GQ was significant for any artist. Aside from deep pockets, Media GQ had great connections. Media GQ signed only the best of the best. Wezi would join the legends. He’d become an icon, elevated to the fame levels of legends like Paul Ngozi and the Sakala Brothers. Musicians who’d achieved such iconic status that even the new generation knew of them, though they’d never heard their music. They’d turn him into a household name. He’d be immortalized, like Keystone.
“There must be a reason he said no,” she said, more to herself than Lillian.
“I do hope, for your sake, that you really are just friends. I don’t have to tell you about these artsy types. You saw your brother’s life. You’re a smart girl. If you want to last in this business, you must learn to stay away from the talent. Stay on the ground and keep your head out of the clouds. I’m rooting for you. You’re going places. Don’t carry extra baggage.”
Lillian’s words plagued Katenekwa all day. The older woman had to know what she was talking about. She’d been in this busi
ness for years. She’d made it. Katenekwa would do well to listen. Right?
Right.
But Wezi wasn’t baggage. Sure, he was a lot to handle—a bottled storm, as awe-inspiring and fatal as lightning. Nevertheless, he made her feel alive. That couldn’t be a bad thing, could it?
***
Hours into the night, Katenekwa stumbled out of her office building, longing for her bed. She’d go without supper tonight, again. All the restaurants were closed at this late hour, and she couldn’t eat convenience store food. It was all she’d been having for what felt like months now. She needed a nice, home-cooked meal. In the absence of options, though, she’d rather go to bed hungry.
The door to her flat opened as she turned off the car and the music. In her periphery, she spied Wezi yawning, then padding barefoot to lock the gate.
Katenekwa found herself fumbling around the car, unable to face him. She’d been counting on him being asleep again when she got home. Their dynamic was different than she remembered. Perhaps Kawana had been the lubricant to their relationship. She hoped not.
As messed up as it was, she needed Wezi’s presence. Even when he’d ghosted her these last two years, she’d held onto the knowledge that another human was devastated by Kawana’s loss. She needed Wezi in her life.
She jumped at Wezi, knocking on her car window. “Are you coming in today, miss?”
“Of course, I am.” The muscles in her face loosened. She was glad he’d moved past their fight.
The gentle aroma of home-cooked food greeted her at the front door. She wrinkled her brow and shot Wezi an inquiring glance. “Did you cook? Or is that coming from next door?”
He chuckled. “I cooked. I figured you might want to give the junk food a break. I mean, I love you, Kitty, but you eat like crap.”
“That better not be a shot at my weight.” She pinched his earlobe.
“I’m offended that you think I’d do that.” He gave her an exaggerated gasp, gripping his chest as if he’d been stabbed. “Besides, I like a woman with flesh on her bones.”
“Fortunately for me, I don’t care what kind of woman you like. So long as it’s not me.”
He sought out her eyes and cupped her face with his large hands. “And why can’t it be you, Kitty?” he asked, his voice soft.
His tone wrought commotion on her internal organs. They swirled and danced and jiggled around as if made of jelly. Eager to conform to her desires, her body weakened, her senses heightened, and a tingle raced through her.
She slammed down the longing with logic and, showing no weakness, answered his intensely sexual gaze with a practised look of indifference. “Because you know me too well. We’d never work.”
“Or we’d work because we know each other so well.” His hands moved from her face, and he tilted her head upward with a finger under her chin.
Katenekwa dared not believe he meant his words. Wezi was a flirt. She’d heard him flirt with other women a million times and then turn to her and tell her she was his queen, his universe, the brightest star in his sky.
It was a Wezi thing, and she tried not to be offended most of the time. But if he kept looking at her the way he was, she wouldn’t be responsible for the events that would follow. Her mind was losing the fight to her body.
“Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. I shouldn’t have interfered with your work.” He pushed a braid away from her face. His hand lingered on her neck as if, any second now, he’d pull her face toward his.
“Bygones.” She took his hands in hers and brought them away from her face to a level where she could keep an eye on the dubious things. “You can’t help yourself. And I suppose I can be a little controlling at times.”
Wezi gasped, laughter in his eyes. “Did you admit to being a control freak?”
“No. I said a little controlling at times.”
“No, love, you are a downright control freak.”
“Fine. Fine.” Katenekwa plopped onto the sofa and stretched her legs out. “I had an interesting conversation with Lillian today.”
“Yeah, what about?” He sat next to her and lay her legs across his lap, manoeuvring to a sinfully close position.
“She said they offered you a record deal, and you said no.” Katenekwa studied Wezi’s face, expecting to see some significant change.
“Oh, that. It isn’t what I’m looking for.” He shrugged, a bored look on his face as if Media GQ wasn’t a big deal. As if they were the kind of record label that offered every wannabe out there a record deal.
Katenekwa gaped at him. “It’s Media GQ! The most lucrative label in Zambia. What are you looking for?”
He pressed his lips together, eyes narrowed. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Do what?” She shuddered at the shadow on his face. She’d never seen Wezi annoyed. Often she wondered if he even knew what anger was. He was so full of light and joy all the time.
“Treat me like I’m some dumb kid.”
Katenekwa threw her arms in the air.
“Unbelievable.” She sat up and put her feet down. “I’m not saying you’re dumb. I want to understand why you said no.”
“They like my voice, not my songs or my style. Lillian offered to sign me to sing other people’s songs. I thought I could negotiate with Mike, but that didn’t work out either. It’s my voice, someone else’s songs. I can’t do that.” He leaned into his knees. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“No. I don’t. But I guess you know what you’re doing. So, if you’re not too upset with me, I’d like that supper now. I’m famished.”
Wezi reached out to stroke her face, the warmth back in his face. “I can never be too upset with you, love.”
Chapter 6
Wezi sure knew his way around a stove.
Even on the best of days, Katenekwa’s cooking didn’t taste this good. Strange to think she’d enjoyed a vegetarian meal. Perhaps she liked the company more than the meal. She did, after all, agree to have a beer after supper—his suggestion.
Wezi returned from the kitchen with a six-pack.
“You said one beer!” Katenekwa protested.
“Don’t be a prude. And I’m not drinking alone. Contrary to what you may think, I am no alcoholic.”
“Says the man enticing me to drink after midnight.”
“Come on, Little Miss Uptight. You’ve had a hard day. You need this.” He removed the easy twist cap and offered her the bottle.
Katenekwa grabbed the beer and chugged it. “There you go. I am not a prude,” she said with a burp.
“Looking to challenge a type A stereotype with one beer. Pfft. I’m not impressed.”
She threw a punch, and he dodged it. “The next one will connect.”
“I have something to show you.” He pulled his guitar case nearer and unzipped it to reveal his customized, black-silver, hollow electric guitar.
Katenekwa’s eyes widened at the cursive writing on the body. Her hand shot to her mouth.
Kitty.
It was a name only he used, and seeing it there on his guitar, a permanent mark in his life made her question everything she thought she knew about his feelings. Dare she believe she was dearer to him than she imagined?
“You’re never far from my heart, Kitty. I’m sorry it took me so long to see you after K died. I wasn’t sure how to handle the grief, and I couldn’t be around you. It hurt too much. But all this time, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I wanted to call, but I thought I’d make things worse. I know that made you think I didn’t care.”
“I never thought that,” she lied.
“I was a coward. I ran when I should have stayed.”
“Yeah, that was kind of shitty on your part. K was phenomenal. He was such a huge personality, and I know Lusaka reminds you of him. And I guess if I’m honest, I hid from those sad feelings myself. But, today, you gave me the courage to enter his studio for the first time since he died.”
She laughed away the misting in her ey
es.
“This is the first time I’ve used the word ‘died.’ Can you believe that? I see him everywhere. And I have to keep reminding myself that he’s not around anymore. It’s so hard going through life without him. Sometimes I feel like he’s slipping away from me. Like I can’t remember his laugh, his voice, his smile, his face. It’s hard.” A sniffle died in her nose. “Don’t blame yourself. I could have made more effort, too. I should have. You’re important to me. I hope you know that.”
Wezi kissed the insides of her palms and ignited a fire within that threatened to burn her. She should move her hands. No, not to wrap around his neck, away from him. And while she was doing that, she should stop sinking into his deep, dark eyes.
Wezi cupped the back of her head with his hand and pulled her to him. Katenekwa’s breath quickened, and blood throbbed through her body, responding to the hunger in his eyes.
“Wez...”
He crushed the last syllable of his name with his lips.
Katenekwa exploded at his touch, the warmth of his tongue rolling on her lips, nudging them to open. She melted into him, pulling him closer, giving him access, drowning in the pleasure of his tongue. Oh, how she’d yearned for this. For the moment when he’d want her as much as she wanted him, even if it was the wrong thing to do.
But God, it felt so good. His lips left hers, and he ran his tongue down her nape. He slipped his arm under her blouse, found her erect nipples with his fingers, and teased them until she lost control. She moaned and bit her lip.
Desperate to fill the need growing in her groin, she wrapped her legs around his waist, rolling until he was on top of her.
She bucked into the hardness in his pants, willing the cloth between them to disappear. His lips found her nipples, and she gasped and pulled him closer, reaching down to unzip his pants. She slipped her hand into his boxers and grabbed hold of him.
Suddenly, Wezi pulled away and fumbled with his pants.
“We can’t do this,” he said, panting.
Katenekwa sat up, and Wezi moved to the edge of the sofa.
“Why not?” she asked, praying she hadn’t been too assertive in grabbing for his manhood like that. What was she thinking?
