After the successful presentation, Amara felt a new sense of camaraderie with Femi. The walls she had built around herself started to show cracks, though she remained wary of his charm.
It was Friday evening when her phone buzzed. It was a message from Femi:
> Femi: Victory calls for celebration. Drinks at Eko Lounge tonight? Your team deserves it.
Amara hesitated. She wasn't sure if she was ready to see Femi outside the structured confines of work. But when she looked around at her colleagues, buzzing with excitement and pride, she knew she couldn't say no.
> Amara: Sounds good. See you there.
At Eko Lounge
Eko Lounge was alive with music and laughter when Amara arrived. The atmosphere was electric, the kind of energy that only Lagos nightlife could provide. She spotted her team at a corner booth, already halfway through a bottle of champagne. Femi, of course, was at the center of it all, effortlessly charming everyone with his stories and quick wit.
When he saw her, his face lit up. "Ah, the star of the night! Come, join us!"
Amara slid into the booth, accepting a glass of champagne. The conversation flowed easily, but she couldn't ignore the subtle glances Femi kept throwing her way. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something that made her heart beat faster.
As the night wore on, the group began to dwindle. Some left for the dance floor, while others called it a night. Soon, it was just Amara and Femi sitting at the booth, the noise of the lounge fading into the background.
"Thanks for coming," Femi said, his voice quieter now. "I wasn't sure if you would."
Amara smiled. "I couldn't let the team down. And, well, you did a great job today."
He leaned forward, his expression softening. "So did you. Honestly, I couldn't have done it without you."
The intensity in his eyes made her look away. She wasn't ready for this—whatever "this" was.
"I should get going," she said, standing up.
"Let me walk you to your car," he offered.
Outside, the cool night air was a welcome relief. As they reached her car, Femi hesitated. "Amara, can I ask you something?"
She turned to him, her hand on the car door. "What is it?"
"Why do you keep your guard up around me?"
The question caught her off guard. "What do you mean?"
"You're always so… cautious. Like you don't trust me."
Amara sighed. "It's not about you, Femi. I've just learned to be careful. Lagos is full of people who are good at pretending to care."
"I'm not one of those people," he said, his tone serious.
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the hum of the city filling the space between them. Amara wanted to believe him, but her past whispered warnings in her ear.
"Goodnight, Femi," she said finally, slipping into her car.
As she drove away, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just crossed a line she wouldn't be able to uncross.
An Unexpected Call
The weekend passed uneventfully until Sunday evening, when Amara received an unexpected call.
"Amara, it's Femi," his deep voice came through the line.
"Femi? What's going on?" she asked, surprised.
"I need your help," he said, his usual confidence replaced with something that sounded almost vulnerable.
"What kind of help?"
"There's something personal I need to sort out, and I don't know who else to ask. Can we meet tomorrow after work?"
Amara hesitated. She wasn't sure if she wanted to step into Femi's personal life, but there was something in his tone that made her say yes.
"Alright," she said. "Tomorrow."
As she ended the call, Amara felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Whatever Femi was about to share, she knew it would change everything.