“Because it’s polite,” she returned his smile.
It was all Roman could do not to frown. He hoped she wasn’t about to reference any ludicrous ideals involving race in his country.
“We haven’t been formally introduced,” she said, trying not to fixate on the long dimple that spliced his cheek when he smiled.
He extended a hand for her to shake. “Roman Vieri Tesano.”
She laughed, accepting the gesture. “Imani Njeri Kamande.”
“Incredible name,” intrigued narrowed his eyes.
“So is yours. What does...Vieri mean?”
Roman rolled his eyes. “No idea. I know my dad took it from some Italian football player, his last name was Vieri. His sons played too so...”
“And you? Do you play?”
“Not professionally, but I enjoy it. What about you? What does your name mean?”
Feeling rather self-conscious then, Imani lowered her eyes and shrugged. “Imani um...it’s Arabic, means faith. Njeri is Swahili for warrior.”
Roman nodded. “That figures, judging from what I saw back there.”
She sighed. “I didn’t feel much like a warrior just now. Thank you so much for what you did.”
“I was only an escort. Like I said, it sounded like you had it all handled.”
“How much did you hear?”
“I was on the balcony taking a break from my brothers when you came out with yours.” He smiled slowly when she bristled. “So...marriage, huh?” He was surprised by the calm in his voice when he still felt enraged by what she’d endured such a short time ago.
“For now it’s only a formal introduction, but yes...marriage is the plan.”
Roman gave into the need to clench his fist now. Thankfully, it rested along the back of the bench and out of sight.
Imani smiled wearily. “I apologize for dragging you into this.”
He waved off her words. “I dragged myself into this so, I don’t see why you should be apologizing. It’s not right for you to be forced into something you don’t want.”
“My family feels I’ve avoided the issue too long. I’ll be eighteen soon. I should have been married two years ago.”
“Sixteen?” Roman’s tone was incredulous and yet he grinned when she laughed.
“My parents were married at fourteen,” she said, shaking her head. “Course that’s not the real reason I’m being made to do this now.”
“Will you tell me?” Roman shook his head suddenly. “I don’t mean to be pushy.”
“You’re not. You...you’re a very good listener. What?” She questioned the skepticism clouding his face.
“My brothers say I talk too much and never listen.”
“Well I’d be happy to tell them they’re wrong.”
Roman’s skepticism deepened. “They can be tough to convince.”
Imani looked toward the other end of the balcony. “I know tough.”
“So will you tell me?” Roman pressed again.
Imani rolled her eyes from the end of the balcony where she’d left her brothers. “I was supposed to be with my cousins in New York this summer. I came there right from school. My mother visited when she arrived here with my father and brothers. She didn’t like the way my aunt raised her daughters.”
“Why not?” Roman shifted on his side of the bench to watch Imani more closely.
She sighed again, studied her hands. “They have freedoms I’ve never had. The simplest freedoms.”
“Like what?”
“Where do I begin?” Imani threw her head back then. “Going to the movies with no chaperones, going to the market, the park, a dance club, riding the subway.”
“I wouldn’t suggest that last one. A subway is the last place you want to be without an escort.”
“Neither is a safari,” Imani countered. “But I’ve done those many times. I’ll take a subway over a lion’s den anyday.”
Roman laughed. “And you say you’re no warrior.”
She smiled, enjoying the quality of his laughter. “Funny thing is, my parents and I want the same things. I want to be a wife and mother. I’d just like to choose who I have that with.”
“I heard what you said about the guy you’re...promised to. Why not tell your dad about him?”
