When Hearts Negotiate

Chapter Sixteen

Just Because

Saturday morning found Tobe in his office with his jacket off, his sleeves folded to his forearms and a report open in front of him.

He had been there since eight.

At eleven twenty-three, his phone lit up.

Amara.

Are you at the office?

Yes.

Have you eaten?

Tobe glanced at the untouched cup of coffee beside his laptop.

Not yet.

Good.

He frowned at the screen.

Good?

He almost typed the question, then changed his mind. With Amara, curiosity was often rewarded with trouble.

Twenty-five minutes later, Tara called from reception.

“You have a visitor.”

Tobe leaned back. “Who?”

“Someone carrying enough food to suggest she has very little faith in your survival skills.”

His expression changed before he could stop it.

Tara laughed softly. “Yes. Her.”

“Send her in.”

“Already did.”

The door opened a moment later.

Amara walked in carrying a large paper bag, dressed simply in dark jeans, a white blouse and flat sandals.

No dinner dress. No event. No carefully arranged reason for them to be together.

Just Amara.

Tobe stood.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

She lifted the bag slightly. “I brought lunch.”

His eyes moved from the bag to her face. “You came here to bring me lunch?”

“And to make sure you actually eat it.”

“You could have sent it.”

“I could have.”

She held his gaze.

“But I wanted to see you.”

The answer silenced him.

Amara watched something soften behind the control he wore so easily.

“Come,” he said after a moment.

He took the bag from her and led her through the discreet door into the sitting area of his private suite.

Lunch was jollof rice, grilled chicken and plantain from a restaurant he liked.

Tobe looked at the containers, then at her. “How did you know?”

“David.”

He exhaled. “I need better friends.”

“No. You need the one you have. He is extremely useful.”

That earned her a smile.

They ate on the sofa with the low table between them.

For once, Tobe’s phone stayed face down.

They talked about Amara’s new collection, a book Tobe had started and abandoned halfway through, and the first piece of clothing Amara had ever redesigned as a teenager.

She told him how her mother had nearly cried when she cut the sleeves off an expensive dress because she was convinced she could improve it.

“Did you?” Tobe asked.

“Absolutely.”

“According to you.”

“According to history.”

He laughed.

Then he told her about his first office—the one so small that two people could not comfortably pull their chairs back at the same time.

Amara shook her head. “I still need photographic evidence of this.”

“It no longer exists.”

“Convenient.”

“Very.”

The conversation slipped into quieter things after that.

Amara asked whether he had always worked this much.

Tobe considered the question before answering.

“For a long time, work was the easiest part of my life.”

“Easiest?”

“Not easy. Just clear.”

He rested his forearms on his knees.

“You work. You make the right decision. You solve the problem. There is usually a result you can measure.”

Amara looked at him. “And everything else?”

A small smile touched his mouth. “Less cooperative.”

She smiled too, but didn’t turn it into a joke.

“You don’t always have to solve something, Tobe.”

His gaze settled on her.

“I’m beginning to understand that.”

The words were quiet, but they stayed with her.

When they finished eating, Amara began gathering the empty containers.

“Leave them.”

“I brought them. I can clear them.”

“Amara.”

Something in his voice made her look at him.

Tobe had leaned back against the sofa.

His eyes stayed on hers.

“Come here.”

Her heartbeat changed.

She set the container down and walked towards him.

Tobe reached for her waist and drew her closer until she settled sideways on his lap.

Amara’s arms went naturally around his neck.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then he kissed her.

Slowly.

Not teasing. Not hurried.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against hers.

“Thank you,” he said.

Amara smiled. “For lunch?”

“For coming.”

His hands remained at her waist.

“People do things for me all the time. Usually because it is their job, or because they need something from me.”

She listened.

Tobe rarely gave away more than he intended. She wasn’t going to interrupt now.

“David is probably the only person who has walked into my office with food simply because he thought I had forgotten how to be human.”

Amara laughed softly.

Tobe’s mouth curved, but his eyes stayed serious.

“You came because you wanted to see me.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not used to that.”

The admission was so simply made that it reached her more deeply than something dramatic would have.

She touched the back of his neck.

“Then get used to it.”

Tobe held her gaze.

“I think I’m trying to.”

She kissed him this time.

His arm tightened around her and the kiss deepened, warm and unhurried.

His phone rang.

Neither moved.

It rang again.

Tobe exhaled against her mouth and reached for it without letting her leave his lap.

He looked at the screen.

Then laughed once.

“Talk of the devil.”

“David?”

Tobe answered. “Thank you for ruining my moment.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then David’s delighted voice came through loudly enough for Amara to hear.

“Your what? I want the details.”

“Keep dreaming.”

“Is Amara there?”

Tobe looked at her. Amara was already trying not to laugh.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Tobe said.

“Tobe—”

“Now disappear.”

He ended the call.

Amara burst out laughing.

“You are a terrible friend.”

“He’ll recover.”

“He sounded very happy.”

Tobe’s expression softened. “He is.”

A pause.

“He has been waiting a long time to be annoying about this.”

“About me?”

“About anyone.”

Amara smiled.

That answer told her more about him than he probably realized.

A little later, she stood and held out her hand.

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere I like.”

Tobe looked at her hand, then placed his in it.

“Lead the way.”

Amara took him to Nike Art Gallery in Lekki.

She had been there countless times, sometimes for inspiration, sometimes simply because being surrounded by other people’s creativity reminded her why she had chosen a life built around making things.

Tobe slowed almost immediately inside.

Amara noticed.

“You like it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He looked at a large painting for several seconds before speaking.

“I spend most of my time looking at things that need to make financial sense.”

Amara came to stand beside him.

“And this?”

“Doesn’t need my permission to exist.”

She smiled.

They moved slowly through the gallery.

Amara showed him the kinds of colours and textures that made her stop. Tobe surprised her by paying attention to details she had assumed he would miss.

At one point, he asked why she kept returning to one particular painting.

Amara looked at it for a moment.

“Because it feels unfinished from far away. Then you come closer and realise every part of it is exactly where it is supposed to be.”

Tobe looked at the painting.

Then at her.

“That sounds familiar.”

She caught his meaning and smiled.

Outside, they asked a woman nearby to take a picture of them.

The first was too formal.

Amara looked at it and shook her head.

“You look like you’re negotiating a merger.”

“I’m standing.”

“Aggressively.”

The woman taking the picture laughed.

So did Amara.

Tobe finally laughed too, and the next photograph caught him looking at her instead of the camera.

Amara stared at that one afterwards.

“I like this.”

Tobe looked over her shoulder.

“Send it to me.”

She turned. “You want a picture?”

“Of us.”

The correction was quiet.

Her expression softened.

“Okay.”

They stayed longer than either of them intended.

By the time they left, Amara’s cheeks hurt from smiling.

In the car, Tobe glanced at her.

“You know what is strange?”

“What?”

“Before you, a good day was usually one where nothing unexpected happened.”

Amara waited.

His hand found hers between them.

“I’m starting to like the interruptions.”

For once, she had no clever answer.

She only squeezed his hand.

By the time Tobe drove her home, Lagos had settled into evening.

He parked outside and came around to open her door.

Amara stepped out, but neither of them immediately moved towards the house.

The day had been simple.

That was what made it feel important.

Tobe touched her cheek and kissed her.

The kiss began gently.

It did not stay that way.

Amara’s fingers curled into the front of his shirt as his hand settled at her waist.

When they finally separated, both of them were breathing differently.

Amara looked towards the house.

Then back at him.

The invitation formed before she could overthink it.

“Do you want to come inside?”

Tobe went completely still.

Amara’s pulse jumped.

For the first time all day, the man who always seemed to have an answer said nothing.