By the time Wande Coal was performing on stage, he took her hand and led her out of the hall. She went along easily. He seemed so controlled on the drive back to his place. He was silent; holding on to her hand while he carefully navigated the deserted streets, as if breaking contact with her would ruin the intimacy of the moment. When they got back to his place, Edem led her to the living room.
“Would you like some water?” he offered.
“I’ve been drinking a bit, haven’t I? Yes, water would be nice,” she giggled. Feeling nervous and uncertain, she made her way to the sound system. It was there Edem found her when he returned with the glass of water, studying a CD track list.
“I didn’t really peg you as an MI fan,” she said, trying to distract from the apparent tension.
“No? There is a p
