WORK WAS A BORE FOR AMARA. Throughout the day, Bakari's proposal was on her mind. His offer was a wicked temptation, like the first sip of whiskey offered to an alcoholic. Every inch of her mind and body fought against it, but her heart yearned for it. Wasn't this what she wanted?
Lydia barged into the room – where she changed the sheets. "You have a client waiting for you at the reception. The person says it's urgent."
"I'll be right there, thanks." Amara smiled politely. It was genuine, but Lydia rolled her eyes and walked away.
It was a busy evening at Afrique. Some of the guests paced around talking into their phones like their lives depended on it. Some women in skimpy bikinis looked for something to do while little kids ran up and down the corridors to and from the pool area.
Andrew was her guest. He wore a white suit with a wider peaked lapel and soft Neapolitan tailoring around the shoulders. He looked as presentable as always covering up his tattoos and muscle arms. Suppressing his sense of self. He pulled it off well.
He stood beside an old woman in a pink coat bearing a sequined flower, at the reception. The old woman smiled at Amara who smiled back. Her white face was heavy with wrinkles and her smile seemed difficult under the weight of her makeup.
"Hello, Andrew."
"Hey?" At the frown on his face, Amara's practiced smile fell. "Can we talk somewhere less open?"
"Outside," she offered. "Follow me."
Most of the guests were crammed around the swimming pool area. Amara led the way, hurrying along the path through the perennial garden as if to avoid prying eyes. There was a choice of outdoor dining in three gazeboes and a patio that wrapped around the restaurant, giving guests a view of the beautiful garden.
She rose to her tiptoes to kiss him, not as she had anyone else, but as she did her lovers: with a hunger she'd never let herself feel before. Goodbye without saying goodbye. Instead of returning the kiss, Andrew held her back.
"Sorry. I shouldn't just assume..."
Andrew was contemplative and calm, sad. He plastered a smile on his face. "I thought you were going to call me, but you didn't."
"I got busy."
He chuckled, soon distracted as his gaze took in the guests walking past the gazebo. His dark eyes softened when he looked back at her. "Busy?"
"Yes. You promised to give me some time."
When his eyes dropped to the curve of her breasts, she fidgeted, adjusting her uniform. Instinctively, Amara lowered her head. He took her chin in his hand and gazed sternly into her eyes. "I did because I respect you. I know you don't trust people easily, Amara, and I wish I could change that, but I can't. I meant it when I said that I've never met anyone like you, but I can't play this guessing game with you."
"What are you saying?"
Andrew dug into his pocket for a card and handed it to her. "My best friend is about to get married soon. They're hosting a dinner party this coming weekend and I'd love to have you there with me. I wanted to invite you in person. If you come, then it means we're on the same page."
Amara looked away, the conversation with Bakari rattling around her head like a loose pebble. Andrew held her arm. Warmth flooded through her whole body.
"As hard as I try, mere words aren't enough to express how I feel about you," he said. "So, I'll tell you about me. I love hard and trust easily and that has led to a lot of heartaches. You're not the only one afraid of commitment. But my feelings for you are greater than my fears. If you give me the chance, I'll make sure you never regret it. I am reliable and trustworthy. For those I love, I work hard to please. I won't hurt you."
"I can't make that decision now," she said helplessly.
"You have until the weekend. If you don't show up at the dinner party then I got my answer. I think that's fair."
"It is."
Andrew gathered her in his arm for a hug which she returned with less enthusiasm. He growled low in his throat, nuzzling her neck. Despite herself, she leaned in close inhaling his scent, enjoying the sensation of his lips pressed against her neck.
"You smell good," he said.
"Same."
He leaned back and took her mouth for a slow but firm kiss.
Amara's phone rang. Pulling away, she answered it. "Blu?"
"Do you still keep a key under your mat?"
"Where the hell have you been?"
"Busy," she said, weakly. "I'm at your place and I need to talk to you. Do you still keep the spare key under the mat?"
"Yes."
"How fast can you get here?"
"Um..." Amara checked her phone. "My shift ends in a couple of hours, but I can get out of it in about thirty. Is that okay?"
"See you soon."
Blu hung up.
"Is everything okay?" Andrew asked.
"No. I think there is something wrong with Blu. I need to get home; she's waiting for me."
"How can I help?"
"I need a way to get out of work," she said. "Do you mind booking me for the rest of my shift?"
"Of course not. I can also drive you home," he offered.
"Thanks."
It didn't take too long to check out. As Andrew drove her home, the sky grew dark and fat raindrops slammed against the windows, turning the world into swirls of grey. In fifteen minutes, he was parked outside the apartment complex. Andrew brought a hand to her neck as their mouths met once more, and a few seconds later, a loud crack of thunder came, masking the sound of his groans.
"I hope to see you soon, Amara."
She smiled and jumped out of the car. "Goodbye."
Running, Amara huffed up the five flights of stairs to her apartment, dropped the keys, swore unattractively, and opened the door to find things casually thrown around.
"Blu?"
In her bedroom, a small white container sat open on the floor with fork handles protruding erectly from its center; little streaks of soup dropping to the carpet.
"Blu?"
She checked the bathroom, but still, no Blu. Amara called her phone. The subscriber cannot be reached. Please try again later.
After an hour of calling and texting Blu without a reply, Amara finally gave up. She was worried. Sometimes, Blu was eccentric and inconsiderate, but not to this extent. The loud voices pressed against her. She lay down for a moment and for the longest time her eyes remained closed; clamped shut against the noise outside her mind. She rubbed her fingertips together, and as the calm cloud descended, her shoulders dropped as though placated against the hiss.
Again, she tried Blu's number. The subscriber cannot be reached. Please try again later. She opened a bottle of wine and tried again and again. Soon it was 8:00 p.m. Bakari was about to drop by.
Despite the obscurity, Amara found herself stuffing her things into a suitcase. Leaving made sense. Once she landed, she would call Blu and find out what was wrong. She suspected it was nothing too serious. In case it was, she would book another flight back home, otherwise, her new life would begin.
True to his fashion, Bakari called at 8:45 p.m. to ask her to meet him downstairs. With a large suitcase, Amara trudged down. Tipsy and perspiring, with dim eyes and an unstable gait, she tried to appear sober.
Bakari leaned against a black car. He was, by far, the most handsome man she had ever seen. Once he saw her he leaped to take the suitcase.
"I'm glad you decided to come. We should hurry."
There was something about having Bakari near. Around him, her heart and mind began an epic civil war. The torment tortured her and sometimes she couldn't think clearly.
"Wait."
"What?" Reluctantly, he put her suitcase down. "What's wrong?"
Amara paced anxiously, hugging herself. She glanced at him, unsure. An hour ago, things were black and white and after seeing him everything was grey.
"A few hours ago, I had two clear options and the answer was obvious to me. I wanted to go with you anywhere in the world, but then Blu called..."
"Blu?"
"I'm really worried about her and it doesn't feel right to just leave."
"Y-y—" was all he managed to choke out.
"I want to, but I can't," she said, finally. "I can't leave."
"Because of Blu?"
Blu was part of the reason she couldn't bring herself to leave. The other reason was that Amara wasn't sure about Bakari's commitment to her. To him, she was just someone familiar and comfortable, like an old shoe. How could she uproot her life without clarity? Would he offer it?
"Mostly. Also, because it's practical."
"You've been practical for all your life. Where has that gotten you? You want to stay in Blu's shadow forever?"
Amara glared at him, furious, challenging him back in turn. "Do you love me?"
"Of course."
"Are you in love with me?"
He scoffed. "I love you as much as I can love anyone."
"That's not enough. What you're offering me is not love. I can't look for that in you and expect to find it."
"I can't believe we're back here again." He smiled. It was a dark smile, echoing his irritability. "You're doubting my commitment to you. I will always commit to you, Amara, even if that commitment does not come in the red you expect it to."
"That's not it. You've been nothing but honest with me and it's high time that I'm honest with the both of us. I want more than just companionship."
Grumbling, Bakari looked away from her. It was strange to realize that the depressing part of her decision wouldn't be her memory of him but his scent. It smelled sweet and spicy, a scent that always reminded her of her mother's kitchen after she cooked. He was her home. Unstable and unsecured, but a home nonetheless.
Amara leaned forward and kissed him in earnest. His reluctance steamed away within seconds. Moments later, his hands were firmly gripping her waist, and she was muttering into his ear. "I'm sorry."