Ola peeked out from the elbow she’d covered her face with. “Well. It was a very exclusive party.”
“And so? You came all this way!”
Souraya watched her friend sigh and sit up on her elbows, biting her lower lip, teeth scraping against silky lipstick. “It was a sex party,” Ola said. “The kind you have to wait months to get into.”
“Oh, I see.” Souraya shrugged. “Why didn’t you start with that? And why couldn’t he just take you with him?”
“Abeg. Why would I want to go to something like that with him? I tried it once, you know, in London, actually.”
Souraya started tying up her hair. “And?”
“And trust me, they’re overrated. If I already have to deal with one fat hairy man sweating all over me, I’m not interested in watching six of them sweat all over other people.” She made a face and sat all the way up, her dress falling open around her thigh. “So, what are we going to do tonight instead?”
“Which kind ‘we’? I’m going to sleep, jo. I’m jet-lagged as fuck.”
Ola groaned as she got up and flounced to the door. “You’re so boring sometimes, Souraya!”
“I promise we’ll go out once I’ve caught up on my sleep. Promise.” She smiled convincingly as Ola blew her a kiss and closed the suite door behind her, and once she was alone again, Souraya had to fight the urge to just sink back into the bed. It was too easy to miss days, even weeks, like that. She knew from experience. So, she stripped off her clothes instead and stood under the hot water of her shower until the fog blocked her reflection completely.
Saturday, 10:02 AM
Souraya stayed in her pajamas after she woke up, cocooned in duvet and pillows, watching Netflix on the hotel flat screen until she got hungry enough to stir herself. She ordered room service—an English breakfast, baked beans and mushrooms and tomatoes and toast and bacon. Fresh orange juice. Sitting in the fluffed white of the bed with the tray in front of her, she took a picture of her legs and the food, then fell on her back, holding her phone above her as she quickly edited the image to fit her Instagram grid. The white was good, as was the glossy brown of her legs, touched with amber. A thin gold chain was clasped around her ankle, catching the sunlight streaming in. She’d pulled back the blackout curtains in her room just to take the picture; sometimes bulbs didn’t quite give the kind of lighting she wanted. Indulging for breakfast, she typed. The city is already spoiling me. She threw in a few emojis and bit her lip before tagging her location as New Lagos and hitting share. There. It was done; she was officially back. Ola would have to help her take some bikini pictures later, either by the pool or at a private beach.
By the time she finished her breakfast, the post had a few thousand likes. Souraya scrolled quickly through the comments. The account was to help very specific clients find her, that was it. A red notification in the corner let her know she had messages, but she didn’t want to look at them just yet. They would be full of people in the city who wanted to meet up with her—some legit potential, others delusional and hopeful, men she would never look at, not even once, talk less of twice. She didn’t feel like sifting through all the muck quite yet. As she was putting her tray out in the corridor (she couldn’t stand seeing dirty plates around her), Ola walked out of her room in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel.
“Oh, good, you’re awake.” She brushed past Souraya and went into her bathroom. “Where’s your lotion? Can you believe I forgot mine? I refuse to use hotel lotion, no matter how fancy they claim it is.”
Souraya closed the door. “It’s on the sink.”
Ola was already naked, squeezing out lotion into her palm. “He wants to meet for lunch. I would invite you since he’s technically hosting you, but he sounded really angry, so I’m not sure today is the best day.”
“What, at you?”
“No, no.” Ola bent over and worked the lotion into her legs. “It sounded like something happened at the party. He didn’t want to talk about it on the phone. Was just snapping at me that I should be ready to meet him.”
“Hmm. Are you sure you want to meet him when he’s like this? Maybe he should cool down first.”
Ola looked up with a grin. “Are you mad? I like them hot, abeg. It makes the sex so much better. They want to work out their energy instead of just lying there and watching me do all the work.”
“Well, you know the drill. Be careful.”
“It’s the bed that should be careful. You know, once he was having me stay at this fancy guesthouse and we broke the bed there. And then they gave us a new room and we broke that bed too!” Ola burst out laughing and Souraya couldn’t help but join her.
“Sounds like those guesthouse people needed a better carpenter.”
“You’re such a hater.” Ola flicked her towel at her before wrapping it back around herself. “Well, let me go and finish getting ready. What are you going to do today, habibti? Please don’t tell me that you’re staying inside; I don’t even want to hear that one.”
“No, no, I’m going to get ready and probably go get lunch somewhere. Where’s a good place?”
“There’s this fancy Asian restaurant that I think just opened. Let me text you the name when I find it. You’re going to go alone?” Ola was already making a face. Souraya rolled her eyes.
“I’ll find someone to go with.”
“Please tell me you know someone here at least. It would be too pathetic otherwise, you going by yourself.”
“I know a few people. Some artists from online, a few of the girls. Besides, I’m sure if I just enter my inbox, I can find someone there.”
“Wow, it’s not that serious.” Ola laughed. “Go with someone you know, so you guys can catch up.”
“Actually, you know what? I do think I know someone.” Souraya was surprised she’d forgotten about him. “We met months ago, at a braai in Joburg. Ridiculously good-looking guy. Didn’t try to sleep with me. I think that’s what got my attention.”
“Are you sure he’s not gay?”
Souraya rolled her eyes again. “Yes, Ola, I’m sure. The chemistry was insane, and he even asked for my number and everything, but he seemed, I don’t know, restrained? Maybe he had a girlfriend.” It was a half-truth, but she didn’t need to tell Ola everything.
“And he lives in New Lagos?”
“Yeah, he was just in SA for work, he said. Told me we should link up when next I was here, so I figured I’d be seeing him—”
“Never,” Ola said.
“Exactly.”
“Well, we thank God.”
Souraya pushed her friend gently, laughing. “Shut up.”
“Do you have a picture of him?”
