Chapter 2: Enemies to Lovers –
594 Words
Chapter 2: Enemies to Lovers – cont’d
Ola agreed to the meeting for one reason: Nneka promised her access to the Okon Foundation’s vendor records.
If her brother’s company was in there, she’d know who really killed the contract.
The Okon Foundation office was on the 12th floor, all glass walls and soft lighting that made everyone look richer than they were. Reception was run by a guy who looked like he modeled for cologne ads.
“Miss… Ola, right?” He smiled like he’d been trained to. “Mr. Okon is waiting in Conference Room B. And…” he glanced at a note, “Miss Nneka from _Lagos Pulse_ is already inside.”
Nneka was leaning against the table when Ola walked in, scrolling through her phone. Chinedu stood by the window, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up again. He looked less like a billionaire’s son and more like a guy who actually worked.
“You came,” he said.
“I came for the money,” Ola replied, dropping her camera bag on the table. “Let’s get this over with.”
Nneka snorted. “Smooth.”
Chinedu didn’t flinch. “The Youth Empowerment campaign starts next month. We’re profiling 10 young entrepreneurs across Lagos. Real stories, not PR fluff. I want you to shoot it.”
“Why me?”
“Because you didn’t take the photo last night.” He said it like that mattered more than her portfolio. “And because Nneka vouched for you.”
Ola glanced at Nneka, who just winked. Traitor.
Before Ola could answer, the door opened again.
“Sorry I’m late!”
A girl about Ola’s age burst in, holding a stack of folders and a coffee that was already spilling. She had bright orange braids and a grin that could disarm a boardroom.
“Amara, you’re late,” Chinedu said, but there was no heat in it.
“Amara Nwachukwu,” the girl said, extending a hand to Ola with her coffee-free one. “Head of Programs at the foundation. I handle the actual work while these two argue about optics.”
Ola shook her hand, surprised by the firm grip. “Ola. Photographer. Reluctant.”
“Reluctant is my favorite kind,” Amara said, dropping the folders. “Means you actually care.”
Chinedu rubbed his temple. “Amara, focus. We need to brief Ola on the campaign.”
“Right, right.” Amara flipped open a folder. “Ten entrepreneurs. Ages 18-25. Businesses ranging from fashion to tech to food. One of them is…” she paused, checking her notes, “Tunde Adewale. Carpentry. Based in Surulere.”
Ola’s breath caught.
Tunde. Her brother.
Chinedu caught it immediately. His eyes narrowed slightly.
“You know him?” he asked.
Ola straightened. “I know of him. He applied to the program.”
“Small world,” Amara said, oblivious to the tension. “He’s got a solid pitch. Handmade furniture, sustainable wood sourcing. We almost didn’t pick him because his last client ghosted him, but his references checked out.”
Ola’s hands clenched under the table. Ghosted. That was Okon Construction’s word for it.
“So,” Nneka cut in, reading the room perfectly, “you’re hiring Ola to photograph the guy her brother is.”
Chinedu looked at Ola. “Conflict of interest?”
Ola met his gaze. “Only if you’re hiding something.”
The room went quiet.
Amara blinked between them. “Okay, wow. I love this energy. Can I put it in the campaign slogan?”
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- Writer
