Jealousy At The Gala
1175 Words
The next morning, Accra was talking.
#ColeEngagement was trending. Every blog had the same photo: Damien’s hand on Ava’s waist. Ava’s fake smile.
Ava scrolled through her phone in the guest room. Comments everywhere.
“Who is she? She’s not even pretty.”
“He could’ve married a model.”
“Gold digger.”
Ava locked her phone.
Mrs. Clarke knocked. “Mr. Cole left this for you.”
A small box. Inside: A new phone. And a note.
Note: Use this. Your number is leaked. - D
No “hope you’re okay”. No “sorry”. Just orders.
Ava tossed it on the bed.
---
At noon, Damien called her to his office.
“I need you at a lunch meeting,” he said without looking up from his laptop. “Investors. They want to meet ‘the wife’.”
Ava crossed her arms. “I’m not a show pony.”
“You’re a contract wife,” he said flatly. “Be at Riviera Hotel. 1 PM. Don’t be late.”
He tossed her a keycard. “Suite 402. Change there. Stylist is waiting.”
Ava caught it. “You plan everything, huh?”
Damien finally looked at her. “Someone has to.”
---
Suite 402 was full of clothes. A stylist, makeup artist, all paid by him.
“Mr. Cole said elegant, not flashy,” the stylist said, pulling out a navy dress and held it up.
Ava stared at it. The fabric was heavy. Silk, maybe. No sparkle. No cutouts.
“Elegant, not flashy,” Ava repeated. “Because Mr. Cole doesn’t want anyone looking at me.”
The stylist didn’t answer. She just unzipped the bag.
Elise came in next. Makeup artist. Hair. Shoes that looked like they could cut glass.
“Stand,” Elise said. “Arms up.”
Ava stood there like a mannequin while they dressed her. The navy dress slid on cold. It fit like it was made for her. It probably was.
“You look like money,” Elise said. “Quiet money.”
Ava looked in the mirror. She barely recognized herself. Hair up. Red lips. Eyes sharp.
“Mr. Cole will be here in 10,” the stylist said.
Ava’s stomach dropped. 10 minutes.
---
Damien knocked once and walked in. No waiting.
He was in black. Tailored. No tie. He looked at her and stopped.
For a second, he didn’t speak.
Ava lifted her chin. “Elegant enough for you, Mr. Cole?”
Damien’s eyes moved slow. Navy dress. Hair up. Red lips. The diamond at her throat.
“Yes,” he said finally. “You’ll do.”
“You’ll do?” Ava laughed, sharp. “Wow. Try not to faint from excitement.”
Damien stepped closer. He pulled out a small box. Necklace. Diamonds. Cold.
“Turn,” he said.
Ava turned. His fingers were careful at her neck. The clasp clicked.
“40K,” he said. “Don’t lose it.”
Ava met his eyes in the mirror. “I’m not your property.”
“No,” Damien said. “You’re my fiancée. Act like it.”
---
The gala was at Labadi Beach Hotel. White tents. Gold lights. Accra’s elite everywhere.
Damien’s hand was on her back. Always her back.
“Smile,” he murmured. “You’re in love.”
“I’m nervous,” Ava said through her teeth.
“Same thing tonight.”
They worked the room. Handshakes. Photos. Talk about the merger.
Then she saw her.
Red dress. Tall. Perfect hair. She walked straight to Damien.
“Damien,” she said, and kissed his cheek. “You never said you were bringing a date.”
Damien didn’t move his hand from Ava’s back. “Sophia. This is Ava. My fiancée.”
Sophia’s eyes went to the diamond. Then to Ava’s face. “Fiancée. Fast.”
Ava felt heat crawl up her neck. Jealousy. Stupid. Fast.
She forced a smile. “Nice to meet you,” Ava said. “Damien talks about you a lot.”
He didn’t.
Sophia’s smile sharpened. “Does he? I’m head of acquisitions. We’re very… close at work.”
Close.
Ava’s nails dug into her palm.
Damien’s hand stayed on her back. “We’re late for the board table, Sophia.”
“Of course,” Sophia said. She touched Damien’s arm. “See you inside, fiancée.”
She walked away. Red dress. Confidence. History.
Ava exhaled. “Head of acquisitions, huh?”
Damien was already moving. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’tmake this a thing.”
Ava’s eyes flashed. “She touched you.”
“So?” Damien said, not slowing down.
“So you said no attachments. But she’s in your boardroom and on your arm.”
Damien stopped. He turned to her. “Are you jealous, Ms. Mensah?”
Ava’s heart hit her ribs. “I’m acting.”
“Bullshit,” he said low. “You’re jealous.”
Ava stepped closer. “You hired me. You put the ring on me. You made me say I love you.”
Damien’s jaw ticked. “This is business.”
“Then act like it,” Ava said.
“Mr. Cole! Ms. Mensah! Together!” a photographer called.
Damien’s hand was back on her waist. His thumb pressed in.
“Smile,” he said.
Ava smiled. It hurt .
Flash. Flash.
Sophia watched from the bar, wine glass in her hand, eyes on them.
---
Later, on the balcony, Ava couldn’t breathe. The navy dress was too tight. The air was too loud.
“Take it off,” Damien said behind her.
Ava spun. “Excuse me?”
“The necklace,” Damien said. “If it’s bothering you.”
Ava touched her throat. “It’s not the necklace.”
“Then what?”
“You,” Ava said. “Sophia. You dated her.”
Damien went still. “Three years ago.”
The words hit like ice water.
Ava nodded once. “Right. Of course you did.”
She tried to unclasp it. Her fingers shook.
Damien’s hands covered hers. Warm. Steady. He undid it slow.
“40K,” he said. “Be careful.”
He put it back on her.
“Because you’re wearing it tonight,” he said. “As my fiancée. Not hers.”
Ava looked up. His face was close. Too close.
“Damien,” she whispered.
He didn’t kiss her. He stepped back.
“Inside,” he said. “We have a merger to sell.”
---
In the car home, silence.
Ava stared out at Accra lights. The necklace felt heavy.
Damien said, “You were good tonight.”
Ava didn’t look at him. “I was jealous.”
“I know.”
She turned. “And?”
“And it was convincing,” Damien said. “That’s all that matters.”
Ava looked back out the window.
She whispered, “It’s only business.”
But her fingers stayed at her throat, where his had been.
---
END OF CHAPTER 4
- Writer
