Hidden Currents (Lagos Romance Series) (11 page)

Eddie remained calm. “How do you know him?”
He asked.

Ada sighed. “He is a publisher. I
approached him about my book.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Are you seeing him?” Eddie asked.

“What?”

“Why do you care so much what he thinks?” Eddie
said. “Are you seeing him?”

“How dare you?” Ada almost shouted. “How
dare you even suggest such a thing?” She paused. “You had no right to talk to
him about me. You had no right. Have I done anything to make you feel that I
want your money, that I would take your money?”

“Hold on a minute.” He started.

“No, you hold on a minute.” She cut him off
furiously, she knew most of the anger she was taking out on him should have
been for Dele Solanke, but she didn’t care, in that moment she hated them both
almost equally for making her seem like chattel, or an item that could be
bought or paid for. “I can get my book published by myself. I don’t need you,
your connections, or your blood money to help me do it.”

He was silent for a few moments. In fact,
the whole world seemed to have gone silent. Uncertainly, Ada wondered if she
had gone too far.

“My blood money?” He stated in a quiet
voice.

She didn’t reply, but she didn’t back down
either, defiantly she kept her head up and her eyes on his face.

“What do you mean my blood money?” She had
never heard his voice so cold.

It would probably have been best for her to
keep quiet, but she was too angry, too furious. “Oh please Eddie,” She scoffed.
“Everybody knows where your family money comes from. If Nigeria wasn’t such a
corrupt country your grandfather would have spent three lifetimes in jail for
all the money he stole.”

He flinched, as if she had hit him, for a
moment she felt regret stir in her heart, but then she reminded herself why she
was angry and continued.

“People like you, you think you can walk
into everybody’s life and take control just because you have money.” She spat.
“Well you can’t take control of my life because I can earn my own way.”

He was looking at her as if he didn’t even
know her, as if what she had said had shocked him so much he didn’t recognize
her any more. “So that’s why you dislike me so much,” He said finally, “Because
my family has got some money?”

She shrugged. Amongst other things, she
added silently.

“Do you dislike everybody who has money
then?” He asked. “Or is it only the ones who made their money in government
that you can’t stand, or their relatives, like me?”

Was he mocking her? “Well it’s the stolen
money that enables you to live the life you live.” She threw at him.

“I can live the life I live because I have
worked every day of my life.” He fired back. “But people like you can’t see
that because you are so blinded by your prejudices.”

“Now I am blinded by my prejudices?” Ada
laughed, “You are unbelievable! You know what? I don’t care what you say. I am
going home.” She paused. “I can’t even think why I let myself be drawn into
getting this close to you in the first place.” She threw at him. “I should have
known something like this would happen.”

He watched her, his face impassive as she
gathered her things, purse, shoes, and travel bag.

“Just so you’re sure, I am not some chattel
that you should think you are allowed to pay my way through life. I am not your
friend either, people like you and people like me, we aren’t meant to be
friends, so please shelve your concern and don’t ever, ever presume to approach
anyone for my sake ever again.”

She stormed away from the living room and
made for the front door. He was there before her, however, and opened the door
for her. She could see the tight lines of anger on his face, but he didn’t say
a word. She had probably said too much, she thought, but what did it matter, at
least he knew now what she really thought of him and his money and his
so-called pedigree.

She started for the gate.

“Where are you going?” He asked tightly.

“Home.”

“Please get in the car.” He said without
emotion. “I’m taking you.”

Ada didn’t want anything more to do with
him, much less a couple of minutes in his car.

“I will walk.” She said,

“Don’t be silly Ada.” He said patiently.
“It is late. If anything happens to you it would be one more thing my type and
I would have done to ruin this country.”

“I said I will…”

“Get in the car.” He interrupted.  It
was an order.

She frowned, and then decided against a
long argument. He had already unlocked the car. She went to sit in the front
passenger seat, her mind still boiling.

They didn’t say a word to each other
throughout the short drive to her house.

As soon as he stopped the car by her gate,
she opened the door and climbed out, throwing back a barely audible goodnight
as she did.

She expected him to zoom off with a screech
of tires, that would have made a spectacular climax to their fight, but he
didn’t, he sat there waiting until she was safely inside, the gate closed
behind her, before he drove off.

Ada started to miss him from the next
morning, when he wasn’t waiting outside her gate to take her to the office, as
he had done throughout the week before. She was also a little relieved, how
could she face him after all the things she had said? After a sleepless night
of thinking about their fight, she was no longer so sure that she had any right
to say the things she had said.

She wondered fretfully if the fight would
somehow affect her job. She knew he wasn’t the type to put pressure on Sophie
to fire her, even as Sophie wasn’t the type who would surrender to such
pressure, but she fretted anyway.

Nothing happened throughout that day. The
adverts for the new positions were sent out, Oliver and Fadeke did a little
dance around the office when they were told of their promotions, while Ada and
Sophie watched and laughed.

She had become so used to Eddie calling
her, that the absence of any kind of communication from him was almost bewildering.
She went through the motions of doing her work, but her mind replayed every
single moment of the day before. She was still angry about the fact that he has
spoken to Dele Solanke about her, but now she had enough presence of mind to
direct most of her anger toward Dele and not Eddie.

He had just wanted to help, and was curious
about how to go about it. She could see that now. It was his nature after all.
Probably he had even seen a profit in it, in which case he hadn’t even been
doing her a favor for favor’s sake, but actually investing in her career. Was
it so bad that he would want to invest in her? She asked herself now.

Well at least he would leave her alone now.
There was no reason for him to keep being nice to her after she had insulted
him in his home. She told herself that it was exactly what she wanted, for him
to leave her alone, but it rang hollow even in her own head.

After the whole week passed in a blur of
work, with no word at all from Eddie, Ada started to feel sick at heart. She hadn’t
realized how much she had gotten used to him. Now every time her phone rang,
every time there was a knock on her door, she expected, no wanted it to be him,
and was always disappointed when it was not.

It was five days before he called, Ada had
been counting. It was Friday, and after a long series of interviews, she had
finally hired a new assistant. His name was Clive, he was twenty two and had
exceptional graphic design skills. The new receptionist had also been selected.
She was a professional looking woman in her mid-thirties, called Lola Balogun.
Ada found herself wondering if they wouldn’t all seem like children to her.

She had been working late, not very eager
to home to her empty flat, which lately seemed to remind her of Eddie all the
time. In fact, everything seemed to remind her of Eddie lately. So she buried
herself in her work, she had already finished tasks she had no need of doing
for at least two weeks, but it was easier to work all the time, than to be idle
and think of Eddie.

When her phone rang, she wasn’t expecting
it to be him, she had given up on him ever calling her again, so when she saw
his name on the caller ID, her stomach immediately went hollow. She panicked.
Did she really want to talk to him? She wondered wildly, could she?

The phone stopped ringing and her heart
started to calm, maybe it had been a mistake, maybe he hadn’t really meant to
call her at all. She realized she had been holding her breath and let it out
slowly.

She jumped as the phone started to ring
again. She sighed. It definitely couldn’t be a mistake twice in a row. Slowly
she picked it up and said a tentative “Hello.”

“Hello.” He replied. His voice still had
the power to turn her heart to mush. The sound alone made her remember how much
she had missed hearing it. Suddenly she felt crushingly sad. It was silly, but
she had an overwhelming urge to cry.

“Are you still at the office?” He asked.

She nodded, and then realized he couldn’t
see her. “Yes.” She said. “I am.”

“Can I come over to pick you?” He asked. “I’m
on my way home now.”

She didn’t even think about it. “Yes.” She
breathed.

He paused. “Okay.” He said, he sounded
relieved. “I’m outside your office.”

She started in surprise. “Okay.” She told
him. “I’ll be right down.”

Her hands were shaking as she hastily
gathered her things. He was already outside? Waiting for her? What did he want?

He was standing beside his car in the
parking lot. It was already getting dark and the security lights were not yet
on, but she would know that form anywhere. He looked like a tall, dark shadow,
silhouetted against the darkening sky, or like an avenging angel, she thought,
almost hysterically.

She walked up to him, trying hard to push
aside the trepidation that was building in her heart. Even in the evening
light, he looked gorgeous and graceful.

He didn’t smile when he saw her. He just
opened the car door.

She gasped. Whether it was shock, alarm,
joy at seeing him, or annoyance that he would assume that she would go with him
even without him giving her the courtesy of a simple ‘good evening’, she wasn’t
sure.

“You haven’t asked me if I need a ride.”
She said, stubbornness kicking in. Even though the sight of him had reduced her
to a wreck, she still felt a little confrontational, and attack was often the
best form of defense, she had learned.

“I’d like for us to talk.” He said tiredly.
“If it’s fine by you, there are some things I feel I should explain to you and
try to make you understand.”

She bristled a little, but got into the
car. What did he want to try to ‘make her understand’? How was he planning to
explain away the fact that he had assumed that he had the right to approach
someone as sleazy as Dele Solanke about her book, or the fact that he’d
benefited from stolen money.

He didn’t say anything throughout the
drive. The silence was oppressive. He didn’t even bother to play any music. She
shifted uncomfortably in the seat, her mind in turmoil. Well, he was the one
who wanted to talk, she thought stubbornly, so she didn’t say a word either.

There was a little traffic leaving the
island, so it was more than an hour before he drove into her street, in all
that time they hadn’t said a word to each other.

She started to open the door as soon as he
parked in front of the gate.

“Wait.” He said tersely. Then he chuckled,
though there was no amusement in it. “Just wait okay?”

She stopped and sat back on the seat. “It
didn’t seem like you wanted to talk anymore.” She said pointedly.

He nodded. A short silence followed, Ada
started to wonder if he was going to say anything at all.

“I was seated on the same table at Dele
Solanke at the wedding in Abuja.” He started abruptly. “I know him as the
husband of a very good friend of my sister’s and as a publisher of some
repute.”

His fingers were tapping a silent rhythm on
the steering wheel as he spoke, his voice low and soft. Ada looked away from
him. Outside the car, the streetlights were coming on. Did she really want to
hear his explanation? So that what? So she would forgive him and they would
continue their unexplainable companionship? It was tempting. The memory of him
holding her hand at his house the weekend before was still enough to send
shivers up her spine, and yes, she wanted more, more time with him. However,
she realized that it would be far safer for her, in the long run if she stayed
angry with him, whether he deserved it or not. That way she could easily
retreat into the life she had before he started his campaign to make her ‘like’
him. That life had been good, there had been no stress, no issues, no wanting
and no problems.

“I confess I had been thinking about a way
to get your book published for a while,” He continued, “and not just because I
like you, or because I can, but because I think it’s a good commodity that
should be given a chance in the market.”