Where the Rain Found Us – Part 13: The Uninvited Guest
592 Words
The following Tuesday, Lagos felt like a pressure cooker. Amara had spent the last forty-eight hours staring at her laptop, trying to build a portfolio for a freelance life she wasn't sure she even wanted.
Every time her phone buzzed, her heart jumped. But the messages from Daniel were getting shorter.
“Heading into the board dinner now. It’s going to be a long night. Talk tomorrow?”
Amara looked at the screen. "Talk tomorrow" felt like a polite way of saying "Don't bother me."
⸻
“You’re moping,” Titi said, barging into Amara’s apartment with two bags of takeout. “And moping doesn't suit a woman who just turned down a Lead Director role. You need to get out. Tonight.”
“I’m not moping, Titi. I’m strategizing.”
“Strategizing while wearing a hoodie with a coffee stain on it? No. There’s a gallery opening at the Eko Hotel tonight. Everyone who is anyone will be there—including the people from Vanguards. You need to show them you’re doing just fine without their contract.”
⸻
Amara hesitated. She knew the Eko Hotel was where the big corporate dinners happened. If Daniel’s mother was as powerful as he said, there was a chance...
“Fine,” Amara said, standing up. “But I’m not going as ‘Amara who lost her job.’ I’m going as the woman they’ll regret losing.”
⸻
Two hours later, Amara stepped out of the car in a dress the color of midnight. It was silk, backless, and moved like water around her legs. Her hair was pulled back into a sharp, sleek bun. She looked like a masterpiece.
The lobby of the hotel was buzzing with the elite of the city. Diamonds, expensive cologne, and the hushed tones of multi-million naira deals.
She was halfway through a conversation with a former colleague when she saw him.
⸻
Daniel was across the grand hall, standing near a buffet of gold-leaf appetizers. He looked devastatingly handsome in a tailored tuxedo, but he wasn't alone.
Beside him stood a woman who looked like she had stepped off a Vogue cover. She was laughing, her hand resting lightly—too lightly—on Daniel’s forearm.
And standing right behind them, watching the pair with a satisfied smile, was an older woman with a gaze as sharp as a razor.
His mother.
⸻
“Is that…?” Titi whispered, following Amara’s gaze.
“That’s him,” Amara said, her voice turning to ice.
“And who is the girl?”
“The daughter of the ‘business partner,’ I assume,” Amara replied. She felt the familiar sting of the rain in her memories, but here, under the crystal chandeliers, those memories felt like a lie.
⸻
Daniel looked up. His eyes scanned the room, landing on Amara.
The color drained from his face. He didn't move. He didn't wave. He looked like a man who had just seen a ghost.
His mother noticed the shift in his energy and followed his gaze. She looked Amara up and down, her expression shifting from curiosity to a cold, calculated dismissal.
⸻
“Don't you dare look away,” Titi hissed in Amara’s ear. “Walk over there. Own the room.”
Amara took a deep breath. Her heart was a drum in her chest, but her face remained a mask of calm.
She didn't run. She didn't hide.
She picked up a glass of champagne, tilted her head back, and began to walk straight toward the lions' den.
- Writer
