Black Sparkle Romance (6 page)

She sent him a bitter look. “I think this is goodnight for us,” she said, standing up and handing his jacket back to him. “See you at the photo shoot.” And she walked briskly back to the hall feeling humiliated, the first tear rolling down her cheek as she pushed the door open. She let it fall. She felt broken, as if she had been stripped naked and left shivering out in the cold.

The August edition of
Black Sparkle
was almost ready. By the weekend Mira had all the columns in, ready to send to the design department on Monday. She had also completed her editor’s note, and felt exhilarated.

And, as the magazine neared completion came a celebration – it was Adeleye’s birthday. So, that Tuesday morning as she approved the final columns and handed them over to the publication team, they had a surprise party for him. Adeleye loved it. He held her in a long bear hug and planted kisses on her cheeks until she noticed Lade’s lovelorn face across the room and decided she had to get the two of them together. She manoeuvred them both into her office. And when she arrived back 15 minutes later and peeped in they were sitting close together and talking intensely. She felt like a black female version of Cupid.

But now, as she drove to the beach for the last shoot, she didn’t feel enthusiastic as the sun beamed down on her car windscreen. In fact, she felt grouchy and irritable. She couldn’t get over the rejection from Dominic at the wedding, although it was over a week ago. She felt cheap; a sellout. No man had ever rejected her advances before! Well … this was the first time she had been the one making the advances … but who cared? Second of all, he had avoided her all week. That was understandable
as the rains had caused a flood in parts of Lagos and some phone lines had been jammed, but that did not make her feel any better.
How humiliating can it get
? she wondered aloud to the empty interior of the car.
I should get a noose and hang myself to avoid further embarrassment from this man, or, better yet, get the damn noose and hang him instead.

The last option made her feel better.

She arrived to see the crew setting up the station for the shoot, and Dominic, with his strong presence, was at the centre of it all. “Dammit, can he do anything wrong?” Mira muttered under her breath as she walked towards the crew. Ifeoma was seated under a canopy on a high studio chair, getting her hair done by Ajoke. “Look who’s here – the boss herself!” Ifeoma exclaimed.

“Hey,” Ajoke greeted. “Nice hair.”

“Thank you. I heard you went on a date,” Mira said. Ajoke fluttered her eyelashes. “Yes, I got me a bobo. His name’s Chris; he’s 5’10 of darkness and sexiness, struggling web designer and we are happily in lust.”

Mira’s eyebrows went up. “Happily in
lust
?”

Ajoke shrugged. “You know … like that movie
Friends with Benefits
: we bang each other like rabbits with no strings attached.” She sighed. “The sex is out of this world.”

Ifeoma whistled. “Phew! Tell me about it.”

“No!” Mira blurted, and then she noticed their puzzled looks. “Uh, I mean … not now. You can tell us after the
shoot.” The last thing she wanted to hear was Ajoke’s risqué tales of sexual gratification. She turned to Ifeoma. “You look beautiful.”

“I owe it to you, Mira. I mean, check me out in this lovely gown!” She did a twirl, the blue and gold Ankara chiffon dress that Mira had made swishing around gracefully, the sequins sparkling in the sunlight. “I look – and feel – like a princess!”

“Oh, please,” Ajoke snorted, “princesses are overrated.”

Ifeoma giggled. “Ajoke, you’re so hilarious.” She looked over Mira’s shoulder. “Oh … looks like Dominic wants to see us – he’s headed over here.”

At the mention of Dominic’s name, Mira’s face clouded with animosity and her spine went rigid. Feeling her hands curl into fists, she smelled the familiar scent of his Hugo Boss aftershave before she heard his swift footsteps approaching. She turned back, her face expressionless. But then she noticed how tired he looked – his eyes were sunken with bags under them, and his face was gaunt, and shrunken, as if he had not been sleeping. Sympathy flooded through her, and she felt the impulse to run her palm over his tense forehead to reassure him. The temptation was so great that when he was standing in front of her she panicked and put her arms behind her. Lately her body seemed to have a mind of its own whenever she was with him – she couldn’t trust it. Focusing on the space between his temple and a palm tree behind him, she scowled.
Whatever, he can
look like a walking vampire if he wants – that’s not my problem. He deserves every bit of it, and then some.

He had been talking. “… and I suggest we move further.”

She blinked. She had no clue what he had been saying. “What?” She asked in a surprisingly clear voice.
God, he’s so handsome! Look at him; does he by any chance know how gorgeous he is? His lips, my lips! I just want to kiss him … again and again and again and one more time.

Goodness, this is stupid, Mira – aren’t you supposed to be angry at him?
Her Rational Mind screamed at her.
What is this crap about kissing when you’re supposed to be kicking instead?

I know, but …

“… it will be difficult to shoot if the wind blows.”

… his face, his eyes, his words … everything about him is so divine! It’s hard to even think of being angry at him.

Focus, you troll!

The last reprimand was like a shout to her ears, and she obeyed. She focused on his puzzled face. “I’m sorry … what did you say?”

He gave her a knowing look, his eyes showing that he knew she hadn’t been listening. “I was suggesting we move away from the grove and closer to the shore. The rains have made the grove wet, and I just noticed that some of the trees are filled with coconuts … we wouldn’t want any accidents now, would we?’ He smiled ruefully at Ifeoma.

“I agree,” Ajoke said. “The place will also be swarming with mosquitoes. It would be best to stay by the ocean.”

Mira thought about it. “No.”

They all turned to her, surprised. “No?” Dominic said with raised eyebrows.

“You heard me. You will do this shoot the way we planned … there is no time for changes. There won’t be any changes.”

He stared at her for a while. “You’re the boss,” he shrugged and walked away.

Mira turned to Ajoke. “I’ve got some mosquito repellent. You can apply it to Ifeoma’s skin before the shoot,” she said.

“OK.”

“But don’t you think Dominic’s right?” Ifeoma asked, looking at the grove with a worried expression on her face. “That grove looks creepy to me … maybe we should go with his idea.”

Mira patted her back. “Don’t worry, Ifeoma; I know what I am doing. Trust me.”

“She knows what she’s doing, alright,” Dominic muttered under his breath with irritation when Mira yelled a sharp “Cut!” This was the 24th photo taken – and the 24th rejection. At first he’d found the charade amusing but now it was no longer funny. The sun was hot, the air humid and he was tired and hungry. He had skipped
breakfast in order make it early to the site and set his equipment up, and so far Lil’ Miss Bossy was yet to call for a lunch break. Even Poor Ifeoma was looking pooped; her smiles were now strained and she was struggling to maintain a pose for the camera. Rufus, Ajoke and the rest of the crew were worse – they looked ready to snap any minute.
What is she trying to prove?
Dominic said to himself.
She’s angry about what happened between us at that reception, but does she have to punish the whole crew as well?

“Cut!”

He straightened and turned to face Mira. She was sitting at a small plastic table with a laptop computer, looking at the pictures. Although weary from standing on his feet all day (not to mention twisting and turning his body into strange angles), he still felt a maelstrom of desire in his heart as he glanced at her. God, she was beautiful. Her face was pinched with cold but she still glowed, especially in that fuchsia gown and tangerine jacket. She had weaves in her hair and the cascading wavy curls made her oval face look small and cherubic. Personally he had loved how she looked with her natural Afro curls, but he didn’t dare voice his thoughts and instead stood in silence, watching her rave. In spite of himself he found her subtle tantrums very sexy.

Something is wrong with me
, he thought.

“I don’t like how it looks on the computer,” she said, and Dominic felt like he had been jabbed in the chest
with a bamboo trunk. “It looks … staged. I don’t want a staged photo shoot, I want something lively, original. You promised to deliver that, didn’t you, Mr Dominic?”

He didn’t reply.
So, it was back to Mr Dominic again … how cute.
She sure knew how to throw a sucker punch.

Ifeoma sighed. “I’m tired, Mira … can we take a break?”

“Thank you, Ifeoma,” Rufus sighed wearily. He was holding the black shade to stop the sunlight. “I’m so hungry I can’t feel my legs.”

“One more shot and we’ll be done,” Mira promised.

Sighs of relief escaped from the crew and someone mumbled “Hallelujah”. She waved at Dominic. “You can continue with the shooting.”

He sent her a lingering look but she ignored him. With a feeble smile, he turned back to his tripod and adjusted the lens. He waited for Ifeoma to pose and noticing her damp spirits, he winked and gave her a thumbs up. She grinned and her face lit up. Dominic quickly pressed his finger on the camera shutter.
This one is definitely going to be the mother lode; there is no way Miss Prissy will reject—

“Cut!” Mira’s voice rang out, and Dominic’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Seriously? Striding angrily to the table, he glared at the screen. “Are you kidding me? This picture is perfect, Mira!”

She raised her eyebrows at him, a sassy pout on her lips. “It may look perfect to you, but it isn’t to me. Retake it, please. We haven’t got all day.”

“But the lighting is good! And her pose was—”

“Chop chop, Mr Dominic,” she said, pointing at her watch.

He felt anger well up in him. He drew closer to her, his chin centimetres away from her forehead, and he could sense her uneasiness as she tilted backward. “What is this really about, Mira?” he asked in a low voice. He could feel everyone looking at them. “Is there something you want to say to me? If there is – which I know there is – then just say it because this game-playing is childish.”

Guilt flashed through her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. “Nobody is playing games here! Please retake the photo; isn’t that clear enough?”

Rufus approached them. “What’s wrong?” They ignored him, glaring at each other.

Ifeoma and Ajoke came over too. “Is everything alright?” Ifeoma asked.

He never took his eyes off Mira as he answered in a gruff voice, “No. Everything is not alright. And you know what? It will never be until someone around here wants it to be.” He grabbed his duffel bag from a nearby chair and jammed his camera into it. “And until that is done – I quit this bullshit.”

Mira took Dominic’s threat seriously when dusk fell the following day and she had heard nothing from him. By nightfall, she decided she needed an explanation and drove to his house. A pleasant-looking old man in a faded Ankara caftan was seated outside the gate. “Master Dominic don comot … he go watch football match.” He pronounced football as
futibol
. “I be the gateman,” he informed her, revealing betelnut-stained teeth.

“Which place he go watch the match?”

“Ah … na for yonder there.” He waved towards the tall palms a few metres from the house.

Mira, confused, stared at the trees. But then she heard the whistling birds and the insistent chirp of the crickets and realised where he meant. “He’s at Whispering Palms Resort?” she asked.

He blinked at her uncomprehendingly.

She smiled as she handed him some money. “Thank you,” she said in Yoruba. “I know where it is.”

The bar at the resort was a hall-like room with booths and a curved counter by the edge. The place was filled with people, mainly men, clad in the red and white jersey colours of Manchester United football club.
A cabal of Manchester United fans
, Mira thought. A large LCD TV was on and the crowd stared at it, engrossed, occasionally breaking their silence to exclaim their displeasure at a
player’s tactics or a missed goal or to down their bottles of beers. Mira spotted Dominic seated two bar-stools away from the gathering, hunched over the counter with a bottle of Guinness, his broad shoulders stooped, his eyes on the screen but not as absorbed as the others. He wasn’t wearing a jersey and Mira sighed with relief – she was a Chelsea fan. Walking to him, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Dominic,” she said softly.

He started, knocking over his bottle and spilling his drink. He gaped at her, speechless for a few seconds. “Mira … what are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “I was out of line and disrespectful, and I came to apologise and ask if you could finish the shoot. Please.”

“I – of course, Mira, I’ll finish the job … I mean, I wasn’t serious when I said I was quitting. I was—”. A roar from the crowd watching the game drowned his last sentence. He continued, his voice louder. “I was upset at the time. But, hold on … how did you know I was here?”

“Your security guard directed me.”

His eyebrows went up. “You went to my place?”

Her palms became sweaty. “I had to apologise – I feel terrible.”

He regarded her for a moment, and she had that squirmy feeling all over again. Finally he looked away. “Huh,” he let out a breath and swallowed. “So you came to apologise because you felt bad about what happened.” It wasn’t a question.

“Now she was confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Did someone put you up to this?” he asked. “Did somebody tell you to apologise because your job was in jeopardy or did you apologise because you meant it?”

“I – what are you saying, Dominic?”

“Lauren is back, Mira,” he said, his face expressionless. “She called to tell me she just came in from London tonight.” His eyes were trained on her.

Mira stared at him, astounded. “Oh my God …” Her hand flew to her lips, her eyes widened with disbelief.
He thinks Lauren sent me to do this. He thinks she threatened to fire me, and that was the reason why I came here
. Her face fell. “You think Lauren put me up to this?”

He shrugged. “You tell me, Mira. Did she? Did you come here so you could keep your job? Because we both know that’s the only thing you’re in love with.”

“Oh, you son of a—”

“Goal!” The crowd erupted in a deafening roar – the Red Devils had scored. The interruption drowned out the expletive Mira had thrown at him, and that infuriated her. Fuming, she made for the door, shoving her way through the noisy crowd. It was dark, and the parking lot was illuminated with fluorescent lamps. She walked briskly to her car, her face cloudy with anger. How stupid, stupid,
stupid
could she get with this man? Why did she have to be humiliated this way? Well, this was the last straw – she was getting over him for good. How dare he accuse her of things she had not done? Did he think she was
some control freak who held her job up on a pedestal of gold above everyone and everything else?

Well … actually you are, sweetie,
her Rational Mind purred. Mira rolled her eyes; OK, so what if she was? She was opinionated and her job was her baby; she made no apology for that. After all, he also loved his job; she had seen the look of fulfilment that brightened his face whenever he raised his camera to his eyes. Why was hers any different … because she was a woman?

Damn straight
, her Rational Mind chided her with glee.
Ugh, don’t you love it when I’m always right, Mira?

A flash of lightning ripped through the skies, startling her. Great, now she’d have to drive back to Lekki in a freaking storm – how wonderful was that? Cursing under her breath, she had just beeped her car open when a firm grip closed around her elbow. Instinctively she jerked back, poised for attack. But it was Dominic; he had followed her from the bar. His face was pinched with both remorse and the icy wind swirling around. “Mira—”

Tears sprang up in her eyes, but she hastily blinked them away. “Go away, Dominic … leave me alone.”

His voice was heavy with emotion. “I won’t,” he said.

She laughed harshly. “What else do you want from me? You rejected me and—”

“I love you, Mira.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He drew closer; she could feel the warmth from his lean-muscled body, and all she wanted was to wrap her arms around him. But she kept
her hands to herself, her nerves jittery with anticipation. She cleared her throat, treating his revelation as if it had not happened. “Please. Don’t patronise me … there’s no sign on my forehead saying: ‘Desperately single – Please Date Me or get murdered.’”

He stifled a laugh. “I’m not. I mean it … I love you.”

“Liar. Hypocrite. Judas.”

“You can say all you want. That won’t stop me.” He looked pointedly at her. “Yes, I’m crazy about you, Mira. I fell in love with you from the moment I saw you in the parking lot at Cocoa Burn. So, are we done here? Because I swear these fights and arguments are getting stale.”

She tried match his gaze. “What if I tell you I don’t love you? That I don’t care if you love me or whatever?”

“Liar.”

“Try me.”

He looked at her, his hazel eyes boring into hers with a fiery gaze. After what seemed like eternity, he said, “Well, let’s find out, shall we?” And he drew her closer and placed his lips on hers.

She had been expecting the kiss but was still surprised when it happened. Her eyes and mouth were open as Dominic’s lips met hers, his tongue taking possession of hers in a desperate, passionate battle. Heady with longing, she let out a low moan, circled her arms around his neck and closed her eyes. She felt like she was spinning downhill into a rainbow abyss, the streaks of colour clashing together behind her eyelids. He tightened
his grip and his hands began roving – first up and down her arms, then cradling her neck and finally back down to her waist. To Mira, time stood still; she forgot that she was standing in a dark parking lot. She leaned closer to him, wanting more of his warmth, but then he broke the kiss and pulled away. Stricken, she gazed at him like a ventriloquist’s doll.

“Wow,” was all she could mutter.

“Guess I was right after all,” he said with a laugh, his voice husky.

She wasn’t laughing as she looked up at him. “C-can we go back to your house?” she asked brazenly. She felt her Rational Mind’s antenna flick up, and soon it was slamming her with questions.
Ohmigoodness, Mira, what did you just say? You wanna go to his house now? And what exactly do you want to do there?

I-well, we could just talk …

Oh yeah? Talk about what exactly … the weather? OK, sweetie, time out. I know you are pulsating with lust right now but don’t be this … direct. African women don’t do this.
It felt like like a battle between her and her mind, and Dominic looked at her, sensing her discomfort.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked with an understanding look in his eyes.

Mira linked her hand into his, ignoring the incessant voice screaming disapproval in her head. “I’m sure,” she replied, a tingle of desire rippling down her spine. “I want to.”