Black Sparkle Romance (8 page)

“You
love
her?” Rufus asked.

Dominic smiled with excitement as he forked chunks of fried plantains into his mouth. It was mid-morning and the crew were setting up the props on the beach for the photo shoot. Mira and Ifeoma were yet to arrive, so the three friends had taken a break to have their usual breakfast on the deck of La Greta. “Yes, I’ve never been so certain about anything in my life,” he said with ardour. “Mira is definitely the one.”

Rufus held up his Nescafé coffee mug. “I’m with you, brother. The lady is a keeper.”

Ajoke snorted. “But … how can you be so sure?” she wondered aloud. “I mean, no disrespect, but you said the same thing about Sandra. Now she’s hitched to a senator.”

Dominic laughed. “I have to be honest … I never felt I had a future with Sandra anyway.”

“You say that because you’ve met Mira,” Ajoke said. “A year down the road, you’ll be saying something else.”

“I doubt that. Mira is … different. I feel she’s the one, you know? I can’t explain it.” He sighed and looked out to sea. “You know that feeling when you meet someone and you just … know?”

“Tell me about it,” Ajoke muttered, sipping her glass of iced tea.

Rufus nodded. “Yeah man, I get you. I felt that way with my first love, Funmi.”

“That’s how I feel. I don’t just love her; I may actually consider spending the rest of my life with her.”

“Whoa, easy there, Tiger,” Ajoke whistled, her eyes wide. “Marriage is a long way off; you’ve known the girl for barely a month, abeg.”

Rufus turned to her, irritated. “Hey, cut our dude some slack now, Ajoke. At least be happy for him.
He’s
clearly happy, and if he says Mira is the one then let’s be supportive and wish him the best. Come on, we know you’re cynical but try to be positive about this.”

Ajoke stared at him for a moment, and then turned to Dominic. She shrugged. “Fine, I’ll try be positive. But don’t come crying to me when your heart gets torn apart, because I won’t be available.” She stood up. “I’ll be at the studio,” she said and stalked out of the restaurant. The men stared at her as she left. Rufus looked puzzled while Dominic leaned back into his bamboo chair with a deep sigh.

Rufus narrowed his eyes at him. “What did she mean by ‘I won’t be available’? Is there something I’m missing here?”

Dominic averted his eyes. “I – it’s nothing, really.”

Rufus gasped. “
Nooo!
Not you and Ajoke!”

“It was just one night,” he said hurriedly. It was the night Sandra, his girlfriend of four years, had dumped him, the night before he had met Mira. Heartbroken,
he had come back home to drown his sorrows, but had found Ajoke in his living room instead, warm and comforting. He needed someone and, after some vodka and an exchange of sob stories, taking off their clothes happened easily. He sighed at the memory. “It was one night I wish had never happened, believe me.”

“And that was the night before you met Mira … dude, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking. And besides I had not met Mira yet; do you think I’d have done such a thing if I had?” He sighed. “I really wish I could take it back. But I know this won’t be a problem with Ajoke. We talked afterwards and she assured me that it was what it was – just consensual sex. No strings attached; I was lonely and needed comfort and she was horny as well. We’re cool about it.”

Rufus shook his head, his eyes sceptical. “Are you sure? Sometimes sex is what it takes for feelings to develop, man.”

Dominic finished his meal and dabbed at his mouth with the napkin. “Not with Ajoke. She’s not that kind of girl … I’m sure she just regards me as a friend. Always has and always will. Besides, she has a boyfriend now, so I guess everyone is happy.” He patted his friend’s shoulder with a smile. “Don’t worry, Ruf … you have nothing to worry about.”

Mira had just driven into La Greta’s parking lot when she spotted Ajoke walking briskly towards her blue scooter, her face wet with tears. She screeched to a halt, her brows etched with worry as she got out and hurried towards her. “Ajoke, hey … are you alright?”

Ajoke avoided her eyes. “I-I’m fine … I’m just,” she said, her voice quivering, “I don’t feel so well. Could I take a break from today’s shoot?”

Mira nodded. “Take all the time you need,” she said, meaning it. She might feel wary of Ajoke’s bizarre behaviour but she was not heartless. Besides, the girl looked terrible. Her face had an ashy pallor, and her eyes were already puffy from crying. Whatever or whoever had upset her had done a really nasty job, Mira thought. “Go home and rest and I hope you feel better soon, OK?”

Suddenly a hostile expression crossed Ajoke’s face, and Mira instinctively shrank back. But just as quickly as it came it disappeared. “I hope so,” she said wanly. “I really hope so.”

Before Mira could say a word, she was gone.

The Eko Hotel and Suites grand ballroom banquet hall was filled with guests arriving for the launch of the August edition of
Black Sparkle
magazine. Hundreds of invitations had been sent out the week before, radio stations had been flooded with the commercials, and now the place was bustling with activity as guests began to
arrive. The entrance was decorated with a long black carpet hand-painted with silver stars, whilst strategically placed pots of flowers set off the glamorous celebrities and notable figures as they strode in, waving and smiling to the paparazzi cameras. Mira, Sade and T.J. arrived in time to see some of the luminaries as they made their way in; Linda Ikeji the notable entertainment blogger, Genevieve Nnaji the famous Nollywood actress, and Dare Art Alade the R&B crooner. They looked glitzy in their outfits, and the girls couldn’t help staring.

But as one of the organisers, Mira knew she would be needed by the crew. “OK, girls,” she called to her friends, who were still gawking. “We have to go through to the back.”

T.J. frowned at her. “Why?”

“Oooohh, Darey is more handsome in real life than in photos. God, he is gorgeous!” Sade swooned.

Mira sighed. “Yes, he is, Sade, but we really have to go in now …”

“Oh my God, is that Lynxx?” Sade shrieked. They turned to her subject of adulation: the tall handsome Afropop performer. “Somebody please pinch me so I’ll know this is real—”

T.J. hit her lightly with her bag. “Abeg, Sade, shut up … kini e? What is this? Stop mooning like a lovestruck teenager at a
Twilight
movie premiere. It’s embarrassing.”

Sade glared at her. “But you were gaping a few seconds ago!”

“Eh heh, so what? Bite me!”

“Oh, for God’s sake, will you come along?” Mira complained. “I’m late and I’ve got to get you a table – the hall will be full soon.”

To be honest, she wasn’t concerned about Lauren or the crowd or even getting a table for her friends – all she was eager to see was Dominic. He had called an hour ago and told her he was coming down with the crew. Mira wanted to see him again, to spot him across the room and feel the excitement jump-start her heart and flood her with warmth. They had started dating shortly after the end of the shoot, and Dominic gave her every reason to believe he was the one, even though their relationship was still in its early stages. He loved and respected her. She was overwhelmed by how much she trusted him, how much she could reveal herself to him without holding anything back.

She loved him.

The thought filled her with longing. “Come on, we have to go in,” she said.

T.J. sent her a nasty look. “What? No way, Sade and I are going to walk in on the carpet and get our pictures taken,” she said, looking over at Sade, who nodded in approval.

“But you’re just a flight attendant and caterer – what will you say if they interview you?”

T.J. laughed. “Honey, you see this dress?” she said, gesturing to her black and gold sequinned half-cut dress.
“This shit here cost fifty grand, excluding the shoes and jewellery. Ask me again what the TV people will interview me for.”

“And I could talk about my cakes!” Sade added. “One of the celebs may need a cake in the future. And, who knows, maybe they’d hire me!” She giggled.

Her friends looked at her.

“Or maybe not,” Sade said and hung her head.

“Rrrright, go on then. I’ll see you inside,” Mira said. They left and she hurried to a door at the corner of the building, the backstage area reserved for the organisers. She met Adeleye and Lade waiting at the door. “Don’t tell me,” she said, “Lauren sent you to find me.”

“You know her well,” Adeleye said as they walked through the noisy room full of organisers bustling around. “She threatened Lade that she would not make it to the end of the day if she didn’t find you in the next 30 minutes, so I had to help in the search. I don’t want Lauren murdering my girlfriend.” He winked at Lade, who blew him a kiss. Mira rolled her eyes and they laughed. They soon spotted Lauren a metre or two away, barking orders to some of their colleagues. “OK, you’re on your own, bye,” Adeleye said and they hurried away.

Mira walked over to her boss. “Hello, Lauren.” She was grinning from ear to ear.

Lauren turned, and then raised her brows. “Mira. Hmm, don’t you look amazing … nice dress!”

Mira smiled. “Thanks, Lauren. You don’t look bad
yourself,” she said, looking at her boss’s black turtleneck gown. OK, maybe she was pushing it – the dress was two sizes too small and its front was weighed down with gemstones. She looked like a middle-aged woman dressed for a students’ prom dance, Mira thought.

Lauren must have read her mind because she snorted. “Ha! Please don’t patronise me … I know I look hideous.” She raised her hand to prevent Mira from contradicting her. “I forgot how much damage junk food can do to a middle-aged woman’s figure. I had no choice though – my boys wanted me to join in the fun and persuaded me to buy this dress.” She was referring to her last trip to London where she had spent time with her sons.

“You look amazing, Lauren.” Mira repeated. “And not remotely hideous.”

Lauren flashed a smile. “Well, thank you! On the other hand, if you hadn’t flattered me I could have fired you, you know,” she added and they laughed. Adeleye and Lade, passing by with stacks of the programme of events, raised their eyebrows and Mira shrugged at them. They gave her the thumbs up.

“So when are you going onstage?” Mira asked, resisting the urge to look at her watch.

“Twenty minutes from now,” Lauren said.

Mira walked over to the curtained door behind the stage and peered at the ballroom. It was filled with guests. Soft music was playing, and she could see the band on a platform. Twinkling gold lights hung from the walls,
and two chandeliers overhead revolved slowly, their gold crystals clinking together. “You did a great job, Mira,” Lauren said, pulling back the curtains. “I am proud to have you as my assistant editor.”

“Thank you, Lauren!” she said, amazed. “And I couldn’t have done it without the crew – everyone was helpful and hard-working.”

Lauren smiled. “Speaking of that, I heard you’re sleeping with Dominic.”

All the wind was taken right out of Mira’s sails. She started, blinking rapidly at her boss as heat crept up her cheeks. “
What?
No!” she squawked in such a guilt-riddled voice, Daffy Duck would have been proud. “We-we’re just friends.”

“Just friends, huh?” Lauren rolled her eyes. “Most people in the office think otherwise – they said you were all over each other.”

“That’s not true!” Mira objected. Lauren did not look convinced, so she continued. “Well … yes, we had some minor differences during the shoot, but that was it. We’re not sleep …” she cleared her throat noisily. “We’re not a couple.”

“So why have you been looking around and whispering his name?”

“I-I have?”

Lauren grinned at her. “Go ahead – spill the beans before they choke you.”

Mira heaved a sigh. “OK, we’re dating.”

The master of ceremonies poked his head through the curtains. “We’ll soon be calling you onstage, Mrs Lauren … are you ready?”

“Give me one minute,” Lauren said. She turned back to Mira. “Always be honest, Mira … an honest person has nothing to lose. Whatever you have with him – whatever you intend having with him – is entirely up to you … not my business, dear. You’re an educated, intelligent young woman and I know you can handle it. But all I can say is that Dominic is a wonderful man, and I’m not saying this because he’s my nephew. I’m sure you know this already.” She placed her index finger on her chin thoughtfully. “Not to be nosy, dear but … did he tell you about his mother?

She nodded. “Yes. He said she lives in London with the rest of the family.”

“And?” Lauren’s eyes urged her on. “Anything else?”

“Uh … well, that was just it. Nothing more.”

Lauren chuckled. “Ah, as always … he never mentions it. That’s Dominic, always so modest.” She looked at Mira. “His mother is Helen Heinz.”

Mira’s eyes narrowed. She was certain she had heard that name before. She felt that surreal feeling of déjà vu, and she searched her mind to put a face to the name. Then she remembered and gasped. “Helen Heinz, the famous Nigerian jeweller in London?” she asked in a sceptical tone, her eyes widening with each word. “
That
Helen Heinz?”

“Yes, that Helen Heinz. She’ll be coming into the country soon; she plans to establish a branch of her franchise here and put Dominic in charge of it. He didn’t tell you?”

Mira shook her head. “No,” she said slowly. Her heart was palpitating and thoughts began swarming around her head like locust flies.
Helen Heinz is Dominic’s mother. Helen Heinz, the famous jewellery mogul, is the mother of the man I love.
The revelation was startling, and she was annoyed that he hadn’t ever told her. She felt betrayed. Did he not trust her? When had he planned to share that little detail? Today? Tomorrow? Never? She understood that he preferred not to let people know that his mother was a famous, wealthy jeweller, but weren’t they in a relationship now? What had happened to opening your heart to the person you love? She had opened hers.
Oh, I love you, Mira and oh … by the way, my mother is that jeweller who was listed in Forbes’s Africa’s 50 Richest in 2009
. That barely took two freaking seconds.