Strictly Business

Chapter 2

ONE

“He was signed from some French Ligue 1 club to Fulham FC in the January transfer window and helped put them in the top ten this year. He’s also been called to the Super Eagles so obviously, he’s getting a lot of buzz in our local press. He needs all the help he can get to manage his new celebrity status. I’d take him on myself but, my portfolio is kind of full these days.”

Keside looked round sharply from the photos on Pitan’s wall where she had been trying to pretend as if she wasn’t the one he was talking to in his affected American accent. She chose to ignore his last statement even though she knew it was a direct dig at the state of her affairs.

“Kes? I know you don’t work with soccer players but your diary is not exactly full these days. Any work is better than no work, right? It might even keep your mind off all the other stuff…” Pitan trailed off.

Another dig, with a barely concealed allusion to her affair with Ken Okeke. Would she ever live this down? She levelled him with a cool stare. Pitan was right but she hated when he called her Kes in that irritating accent. Only her friends called her Kes. She grimaced at her thought. What friends? Only her two faithful colleagues, Leye and Tessa remained. Pitan had never been a friend yet he was the one reaching out and offering a lifeline now that she was out of detention. In fact, he had always tried to pitch his Talent Agency against hers by bidding for the same jobs but she had always been three steps ahead of him. She had even outsourced some of her smaller projects to him but now she was wary of this show of kindness. Pitan never did favours without asking for something in return. For this, she knew she would owe him.

He grinned at her in that patronizing way he had of crooking his thick and neatly plucked eyebrows. His half-rimmed spectacles were more of an affectation than a prescription. He was stroking the thinly shaved moustache around his mouth. His beard was just as thinly shaved with such accuracy she assumed his barber may have used a ruler and a protractor to gauge the angles. His waxed clean-shaven head gleamed under the fluorescent light of his office. The man was more high-maintenance than she was, Keside thought as she tucked her chipped fingernails into fists having sighted his own perfect manicure. She sighed.

“So he’s in the big leagues now. I’m sure he’s looking at endorsement deals and he needs a manager to broker them. Someone to run around, book him and make sure he gets to all his appearances. Wipe his nose; make sure his fly is zipped. Not my scene but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.”

“I know it’s not the glamorous stuff you’ve been accustomed to but this could be a launch pad for you to start over,” he said with veiled sarcasm, while pushing an A4 envelope across the table to her. “His address and contacts. Can he expect to meet with you tomorrow? He just flew into the country about a week ago since the season ended. And there’s something else in there for you. Not a lot but I know how these things are. At least you could, you know, buy fuel, maybe make your hair...”

Keside’s eyes burned with humiliation as she lifted the lid of the envelope and saw the thousand naira notes in a smaller white envelope within. She was broke. At least until the banks unfroze her accounts, she had to depend on Leye and Tessa for a stipend. How had Chief Okoye’s daughter fallen so low? Since the money laundering scandal, K’Okoye Edge had been floundering. Her client list had dried up faster than laundry in Harmattan and she had bills to pay. Still, she would eat goat droppings before crawling back to her parents or taking Pitan’s hand-out. “Thanks, man,” she tried to act casual about it so he wouldn’t know how undignified she felt. “You can tell him I’ll meet with him tomorrow.” She took out the envelope of money and dropped it on the table.

Pitan turned down the corners of his lips in a smug look and nodded before he looked at his watch signalling that their time was up. “No problem Kes. Just thought I’d help out. What are friends for right? Sorry, I have to see someone now; that new artiste Bi’jou. Do you know her?” he gloated.

Keside vaguely remembered the name. “Yeah, I think so. Singer? Actress? Never mind. I’ll see myself out.”

“Let me know how it goes okay?” Pitan said, but he had already forgotten about her when his next appointment breezed in on a sea of cloying perfume. She had on a short, skin-tight dress, fondant layers of make-up and multi-coloured hair extensions.

This one needed serious help, Keside thought. Bi’jou was definitely Pitan’s kind of client.

Outside Pitan’s office, Keside put on her designer sunglasses in the glare of the late afternoon sun before getting into the Hyundai Accent borrowed from Leye, her COO. The air-conditioning had developed some kind of fault and was blowing warm air, so it was only a matter of minutes before she had to take off her jacket to relieve some of the heat. Her camisole was damp and her cropped flat-ironed hair had begun to frizz. She had elected to snip off her long locks and give herself a new look as if she still wouldn’t be easily recognizable. Sitting in the hot car, waiting for her turn at the Admiralty Circle toll gate into Victoria Island, she glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror, while dabbing at a trickle of sweat from her hairline.

When interviewed for True Love (in what seemed like an age ago) she had told the interviewer her best feature was her skin. She was a beautiful bronze color, not too light, not too dark, just in between. She had a smooth heart-shaped face with a blunt button nose and full lips. Leye had once told her that if he squinted, Keside could pass for an Igbo Megan Good. Keside grimaced. Her loyal colleague was about to find a new job if she didn’t get a new client ASAP. He and Tessa, her Head of Client Services, had hung in there with her through the worst of it all. She owed it to them to get the firm back on its feet. Leye and Tessa had managed to chase up on debtors and give the office a semblance of business as usual while Keside had been under arrest but that farce was fast fading. She searched for something to fan herself with. Her eyes fell on the envelope Pitan had given her. She had tossed it on the passenger seat along with her handbag. She picked it up and used it as a makeshift fan until a sheet of paper fell out of it. It was a brief profile and contact details of the footballer she was to meet. She had been moping about in her apartment when he had called her up and was nearly out the door before she realized she was still in her pyjama bottoms. Business Management was really not her line of work. Being a manager meant she would need to make deals to get paid. She needed any type of work and this was available. It was a pity. This is what her life had come to. This time last year, she was at the top of the PR food chain. Her PR machinery had helped put eight senators and two governors in office, and she had continued as a Media and Communications Consultant for nearly all. She had worked as a publicist for first ladies of three states, managing media for some of their pet projects. Everyone who was anyone wanted to work with her. KOE was PR Consultant to the stars and its CEO, Keside Okoye was Life and Times Young Woman Entrepreneur of the year in 2006.

That was two years ago.

It was all gone now. Six weeks in detention at the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission had ended that line of work. One act of poor judgment followed by another and it had all come crashing down. And here she was, relying on someone who was not even fit to be called her rival seeking her next meal. She didn’t even have money to fuel the car or pay the service charge at her apartment. An apartment she would soon have to pack out of because the banks had come knocking. Well, better get ready to meet - she read the name written on Pitan’s Taluga Talents stationery - Edem Ekanem.

Which team did this one play in again? She paid her toll fare and drove through to the traffic stop afterwards. Had Pitan mentioned that? She wasn’t sports-savvy but she knew the Nigerian football stars playing in the top BPL teams. At least up until six months ago. She had certainly never heard of an Ekanem in the national team. Seriously she should have paid more attention to Pitan. God if you were going to help me why didn’t you just go all out and give me Mikel Obi? At least that one plays for a top team and he is cute. She sighed. This guy was definitely not very known. Though she had known one Edem very long ago…

She opened her blackberry phone glancing about surreptitiously to check that there was no traffic official at the stop light. She searched for Leye’s number to quickly help her do a search before she noticed a photo printed on the back of the bio page. Edem. Edem? It couldn’t be. Edem Duke? When did he become Ekanem? The motorist behind her honked loudly and repeatedly for her to move when the light turned green. She pulled forward and coasted to a steady speed as she drove through Ozumba Mbadiwe Avenue. She never forgot a face. What are the odds that it would be the same Edem? When did he become this hunk of a football star even?

The Edem she knew had practically grown up in her family home in Enugu with her and her brother, Kelenna. She had tagged along with them plucking at mango trees in her father’s compound, playing football and throwing firecrackers during festive seasons. Edem and his uncle had lived in the mini-flat behind her father’s house for as long as she could remember until that fateful night that had ripped them apart. For all anyone had told her, he could have fallen off the face of the earth. She was forbidden to ask of him or try to find him and her father had threatened to cut her off if she did. That was when she had made up her mind to make her own money and be her own person. She couldn’t bear the powerlessness of being under her father’s control. She left for school far way in Lagos and had gotten carried away with the buzz of the big city. She eventually forgot why she had pushed her family away and locked everyone else out. Seeing his face anew brought back old memories.

She stared at the photo again while cruising to another stop. See Edem of yesterday! Looking so cute. Her teenage crush had made good. She was almost smiling with pride until she realised this could be weird. She would be working for Edem? Edem who had served in her childhood home. What a turn of events. Pitan had no way of knowing they were acquainted when he offered his account to her. But did Edem know he had been passed on to her to manage? She couldn’t well take the job now. But he expected to see her the next day. She looked at his address again. It was at Parkview Estate in Ikoyi. Well, even if she wasn’t going to take the job, she could at least say hi to an old friend, she thought as she swerved onto the lane that took her up Falomo Bridge and into Ikoyi.

***

Edem stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He was feeling energized from his workout. His personal trainer and physician had advised him to lay off the regime for another week after the sprain he had suffered in his last match but he couldn’t imagine stopping now. Next season would be brutal and he needed to get back in shape fast. Also, he wasn’t getting any younger. At 32, his agent had assured him such a move to the premier league would be difficult and that at most he would only get a one-year contract. He had finally managed it after years of playing all over Europe. Even though it was a one-year contract, he was happy the season had ended on a good note. His team had fought their way from relegation and been able to secure a spot in the top ten and he had had a lot to do with it. He had good reason to hope to ride on that success to another club, even for another year. But that depended greatly on his recovery. He was prepared for the worst though, and had mentally and gradually begun to move back to Nigeria. Yet his recuperation and post-football future was only a part of the reason.