Work Hard, Love Harder

Chapter 8

They didn’t go back to Boston. They landed in a Las Vegas airport. The car that picked them up took them along Las Vegas beltway, not heading for the strip but further out of town. Zoe wasn’t really surprised. It still made her tense and jumpy, the uncertainty rising again to mix with the nausea that had plagued her for the entire flight. They hadn’t really talked, and Femi hadn’t brought up Zoe’s status in relation to him and the whole having a baby thing or what he was going to do about it. If he would stop Zoe from doing something on her own. Everything was very much up in the air including Zack. Still, he’d paid to have her brother in hospital to convalesce, and he hadn’t protested at her lies to the social worker lady. That was something at least.

When they were passing more trees than massive secluded houses with gated drives, and Zoe’s mind was filling with thoughts of bodies in the desert and heads with bullets holes, she asked, “Where’re we going?” God, she hated that question, all the times she’d asked it.

“One of the family properties.”

Zoe’s heart picked up, her whole system winding tight. Family immediately made Zoe think Dangote, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing. Was there some kind of trial or test or something Zoe was going to have to face? No, that didn’t make any sense, that was Hollywood sh*t.

Most of the last week had been Hollywood sh*t.

“You mean your parents?”

The car slowed and turned up a curving tree-lined drive, slowed again to wait for classical wrought iron gates to swing open.

“You won’t have to meet anyone tonight.”

Zoe’s pulse was still hammering away. “Why do I have to meet them at all?”

Femi looked at her. The evening sunlight slanting through the window lit one half of his face, shadowing the line of his lower lip. Something was bothering Femi, Zoe thought, a problem he would be planning for, and Zoe knew, just knew, it had something to do with her.

“Wont take long,” Femi said, sounding unconcerned. “Breakfast. Get the introductions over with. Buy you some clothes that actually fit.”

The car pulled into a courtyard, circling the massive fountain in the middle to stop at the front doors of the massive house.

“Femi,” Zoe said.

Femi glanced back, the car door already open. “Trust me,” he said softly. Actually sounded sincere.

“I don’t,” Zoe said, honestly. She could trust Femi to follow his own plan or act in his own interest, but Zoe had no idea what that was. Couldn’t predict it. The more time she spent with Femi, the less she really knew him. Femi’s lips quirked in a brief smile. He stood, turning back to lean into the car. “We do it my way for now. You can do whatever you want tomorrow.”

Which was as good as saying “your opinion or what you want is not really relevant here.”

Zoe followed Femi up the steps. The exterior of the house – small castle, but details – was stone; the porch that led to dark wood doors flanked with columns. It wasn’t a place Zoe could imagine real life taking place in. Across the massive foyer, a woman in a killer pantsuit was walking towards them, her heels ringing loudly on the floor.

She caught Zoe’s look, smiled a brief professional greeting. To Femi she said, “You’re early, I just caught you driving in. The south bedroom is open for you. Can Hajia expect you both at dinner?”

“Just me,” Femi said. “Have something sent up to my room for… Zoe.” There was an odd hitch, a hesitation like Femi meant to say something else.

*****

They had breakfast with the family.

Not all blood related, as Femi told Zoe, standing wrapped in a damp towel, watching the morning news with the volume down.

“Close friends, that kind of thing.”

Zoe felt ready to go back to sleep, except that she was hungry and needed to shower before she could get food. She slumped against the leather couch and watched Femi watching the morning news.

Femi stripped off his towel, letting it all hang out as he scrubbed the cloth over his wet hair.

Zoe yawned, moving her sluggish limbs in preparation for standing. “So, the introductions are because we’re… doing whatever it is we’re doing. Because of the baby?” It felt weird saying “baby” to Femi, after all the time she shied away from even letting the two inhabit the same thought.

“If you’re keeping it, yeah.”

Zoe blinked, not sure if Femi was fucking with her. “Why the hell wouldn’t I? Why does that matter?”

Femi threw his towel in the couch, ran a hand over his hair. “Don’t worry about it. You’re fine, they know that, just had to be talked about. Wasn’t the only thing on the agenda.”

The cold, uneasy feeling was back. “What if I hadn’t been fine?”

Femi looked at Zoe’s face, then grinned. “What are you thinking, I’d set you on fire, maybe throw you in the river? Calm down.” He reached down, caught Zoe’s arm, pulled her to standing, crowded in.

“Raising a kid is a life sentence. That pretty much makes you part of the family. Someone in the family has a problem, it affects everyone. Are you ready for tonight? My parents are having a banquet for us.”

*****

The drive ended at the Dangote mansion. There were cars parked along the edge of the front court, and as the driver, Wozniack pulled up at the front doors to let them out, Zoe saw another dark blue sedan coming up the drive through the gates.

They were met at the door by a duo of girls in dark green banquet jackets who directed them to the “great room.” The place was alive with muted sound, voices, and footsteps, like a museum tour where you hear other people but never see them. Except that Zoe caught glimpses of more green jackets, and when they turned down a wide hall, a guy in the same uniform passed them, carrying a tray of glasses.

Meeting new people didn’t make Zoe nervous. Not before Femi. Before the Dangotes, before stepping into this new world where she might actually care about somebody beyond what she could get out of them. Not before she was afraid of their judgment. It was still out of place, the uneasy squirming in her gut as she followed Femi into a room full of strangers. There had to be at least fifty people in the room itself, and the three sets of doors leading out onto the terrace were open. Outside were more people standing, talking, sitting at tables.

Inside, there were a few people grouped on couches, but the bar was empty except for Wozniack drinking something from a coffee mug. Probably coffee. Add him to the short list of sober people. Zoe hesitated, considering asking about Suraya’s whereabouts, considering she was Femi’s mother; Hajia’s assistant she could probably get her a room to sleep in. Wozniack caught Zoe’s gaze and nodded in a kind of greeting, and Zoe nodded back but kept moving. Suraya was probably busy, she’d just go find a couch.

There was a couple in the hallway, looking pretty cozy against the wall, and Zoe moved past quickly before things could get that far. Maybe she wasn’t too knowledgeable about how African meet-and-greets were supposed to go, but this didn’t seem like it.