Chapter Eight: Almost a Date
632 Words
(Adanna’s POV)
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It started with a text.
> Dami:
You’ve been working too hard.
Meet me at Mykonos on 9th, 7 p.m.
No blueprints. Just food.
At first, I laughed. Then I checked the mirror. Then I told myself it was not a date.
I still changed my outfit three times.
Mykonos on 9th was one of those Lagos restaurants that tried to look Greek — white-washed walls, blue chairs, plants with complicated names. I walked in exactly at 7:04, bracing myself to find him casually late, or worse — not there.
He was already seated.
Black shirt. Neat beard. A look that made it hard to breathe for a second.
When he stood to greet me, I saw his eyes widen slightly. Just enough to tell me I looked… different.
“Wow,” he said. “You clean up nice.”
I arched a brow. “And here I thought I was already a queen in work boots.”
He grinned. “You are. But this? This is dangerous.”
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We ordered seafood pasta and lamb skewers, and I watched him tuck into his plate with the kind of hunger you only see in men who work with their hands.
“You don’t talk much about your family,” I said after our first round of drinks.
He paused. “My mum passed when I was a teenager. Dad died right before I got my first job. I’ve got two sisters. One’s in Port Harcourt, the other just had a baby.”
“I’m sorry,” I said gently.
He shrugged. “Life builds, life breaks. You?”
“My mum’s still in Enugu. Dad left when I was five. I’ve got two older siblings. Protective. Loud. My brother once threatened to slap my ex for ghosting me.”
“Respectfully, I love your brother already.”
I laughed, and the tension in my chest began to melt.
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Halfway through dessert — warm plantain and coconut cream — he leaned forward.
“Do you ever wonder,” he said, “what this would’ve been like if we’d connected in school?”
I froze for a second.
“Maybe,” I said. “But I wasn’t ready then. I think I was trying too hard to prove I belonged.”
He nodded slowly. “And now?”
“I still feel like I’m fighting to prove something. But at least now, I know I don’t owe anyone an apology for wanting more.”
There was a long pause. His gaze held mine.
“You don’t. You never did.”
My breath caught.
If he reached across the table right then, I would have let him take my hand. If he leaned in, I might not have stopped him.
But instead, he stood and held out his hand.
“Come with me.”
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We walked out to the restaurant’s rooftop.
No crowd. Just the city lights and wind pressing soft against my skin.
He leaned against the rail. “This isn’t just a job to me, Adanna.”
“I know.”
“And you’re not just… some woman I’m working with.”
“I know that too.”
He turned to me, and for a second, there was nothing between us but years of not knowing we were headed here.
He didn’t kiss me.
But when he touched my wrist, softly, like a question — I didn’t pull away.
We stood in silence for a while. It wasn’t awkward. It was just… real.
And terrifying.
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That night, as I walked into my apartment, my phone buzzed.
> Dami:
If this was a date… it would’ve been the best one I’ve had in years.
Sleep well, Ada.
And for the first time in a long while, I did.
- Writer
