Chapter 11 Ofosua
CHAPTER 11 OFOSUA
ADINKRA SAYING: (Hye Wo Nhye) Burn you won’t burn.
HELEN ADDO: Men are hardheaded. They will use all their gasoline before they realize you were born from fire.
From: [email protected]
CC: [email protected], [email protected]
I’m glad to hear that you can have the manuscript ready in a short amount of time.
I was as polite and clear as possible as I typed out an email to Evan and his agent. All the while, I cursed Cole under my breath. This was all his fault. Despite having the new imprint, I still had to edit Evan Miles. But I could not help remembering how he had been helpful the day before.
My feelings toward him were such a jumbled mess now. It was easier to slide him into the annoying-nemesis role because that kept him at an arm’s length. Kind and encouraging Cole, I didn’t know what to do with.
But I would not concentrate on that. I had so much damn work to do, and of course, Evan was immediately uncooperative. Jackass didn’t want to do an outline I could troubleshoot and was insisting on just delivering the completed manuscript in three months’ time.
He was clearly testing me. So instead of getting out of the office by six, I was cutting into precious submission reading time. I’d had a whole plan for tonight; me, some reheated jollof, an Olivia Pope–sized wineglass, and manuscripts I actually wanted to read.
You’re a wild one, aren’t you?
Okay, fine, I probably did need a life, but damn.
I didn’t want to waste my precious time on Evan. I had bigger fish to fry.
Just as I grabbed my purse and coat off the hanger, I heard the telltale ping of my email.
Shit. I was never leaving.
From: [email protected]
CC: blank
No. It works better creatively if I don’t do one. See you next week.
Evan
I forced myself to take a breath. And then another one. That little shit. I was never going to forgive Cole for saddling me with him.
But I had a strategy of my own.
From: [email protected]
CC: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected]
To facilitate this process for you, Andrea James will be working with you on any editorial notes and questions you may have. She’s brilliant, graduated from Yale, and worked on Tim Wandsworth’s latest while at Brookfield Publishing.
I look forward to seeing your outline.
Ofosua
I had handled him. Olivia Pope would be proud. I’d played him with all the things he couldn’t resist.
Still, the blatant disrespect set my teeth grinding. “But at least now you can enjoy your wild and crazy night,” I muttered to myself.
“You just played him, didn’t you?” said a teasing voice.
Hot Cole.
I turned to frown at him. “This is your fault. I wouldn’t have to play mind games if you hadn’t blackmailed me.”
He put his hands up. “I know, he’s a dick. And I would hardly call it blackmail.”
“What would you call it?”
He seemed to consider a moment. “Creative negotiating. Besides, you just fixed it. Expertly, I might add. Andrea is blonde and bubbly and he’ll think she’s hot, so he won’t fight her as much. And then you played into his elitism, as he also went to Yale.”
I shrugged. “Either way, he’s locked in and will do what I need.”
“See, I knew you’d have the answers.”
“I wouldn’t have needed to fix anything if you’d just—”
He held up his hand and interrupted me. “You’re off the clock. We can fight tomorrow.”
“Says the man who started this particular fracas.”
“Guilty as charged. Let me make it up to you. Didn’t you just say something about a wild night?”
“Not with you. What do you want, Drake?”
He gave me a teasing smile that lit up his dancing gray eyes. “You wound me. There’s a happy hour tonight. You should come.”
I hooked my Hermès Arcon bag on my shoulder and studied him. He looked impeccable in his Burberry charcoal vest and trousers. I could tell by the stitching that it had been expertly tailored to his tall, lean frame. He’d ditched his blue-and-gray Hermès tie at some point during the day. And he’d rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, showing off his forearms.
The whole deconstructed suit effect, combined with his artfully disheveled locks, and the dusting of stubble on his jaw, made the man look… good enough to eat. Which was wholly unfair. The sandalwood and leather of his cologne served as a reminder of just how close we’d been the other day.
And all week, he’d been borderline… nice. Or at least not nearly as annoying as usual.
And he came for you.
No one ever checked on me. I was the one who checked in on people. I was expected to hold it together. Be strong. But he had come for me.
I did my best to squash that pitch-and-dip thing my heart did thinking about him.
“I have a lot of work to do.”
He stood staring at me for a long moment, and I could feel every prick of his scrutiny. “Look, what I’m saying is, you need to spend some time letting your colleagues and team get to know you personally. They need to see you as a little bit more of a person. Not some work robot.”
“I am not a work robot.”
He lifted a brow. “For starters, I didn’t call you that. But since you seem sensitive about it, why don’t you prove everyone wrong? Prove that you’re not a robot. Come to happy hour tonight. I dare you.”
He sauntered away, and my gaze slid after him. He thought I was no fun. My friends thought so too. When had this become my life? There was a time when I’d been fun and engaging. When I did things. Went out.
But being at home never set off my panic attacks. In the house, nothing could trigger me. But also, I didn’t really live either.
Don’t be a wuss.
I sent a text to Emory. It would be easier with a friend.
OFOSUA:
Are you at happy hour with the work peeps?
EMORY:
Yep. Do you need me for something?
Why was this so hard? All I had to do was stop obsessing over my emails and go have a little fun.
OFOSUA:
No. I was just going to join.
EMORY:
Yay! Please come save me from dumbass Chad.
I guess it was settled. I was on my way to happy hour… with Hot Cole.
I was out of practice.
I had no idea what the hell to do at a happy hour anymore.
Whose fault is that?
There had been a time when I would be the one who attended at least one happy hour a week with my girlfriends. Objectively, I knew the rules of engagement. A strong drink, laugh the workday out of my system, home or on to dinner by seven p.m. But as I surveyed the rapidly filling bar, I simply had no idea what to do. I had planned on being married by now. That rising panic that told me that I was a social failure, that this was such a mistake, pricked at the back of my neck. I swallowed hard.
You can do this. Don’t be a ballsack.
I was not going to lose it, goddamn it. This was nothing more than a work function. I’d done dozens of these without breaking a sweat.
Before Yofi.
Speaking of the asshole, he’d called again but hadn’t left a message. What the hell did he want?
I walked straight up to the bar and ordered myself a tonic and lime. Even though a drink might help my anxiety, I rarely drank with workmates. But I knew that everyone expected you to drink at these things, so I had that tonic in my hand that I clutched like a lifeline, and that was how Emory found me.
“There you are. I grabbed a table over there. Join us.”
“Who’s ‘us’?”
She took my hand, tugging me, and I froze.
She frowned at me. “Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh, yup, I’m fine. Everything is fine. Perfectly fine.”
“You look like you’re freaking out.”
Well, damn. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”
She grinned. “Okay, we’ll stay at the bar for a little bit. Drink your drink and then we’ll go over, say our hellos, you buy them a round. See? Easy.”
It didn’t feel easy. As a matter of fact, it felt like a lot of steps.
After fifteen minutes of panic hovering at the bar, I followed her reluctantly to the tables and found Cole already sitting in one of the corner booths. Across from, of course, fuckwit Chad. Excellent. Exactly who I wanted to spend my evening with.
Emory maneuvered me over to Drea Louis from the accounting department. She gave me a bright smile and waved. She liked me because I always turned in my reports on time. “Hey, Drea, I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah, it’s a shame. But hey, we’re here now. Great shoes, by the way.”
I glanced down at my pinky-nude Jimmy Choos. “Thanks.”
I’d paired them with jeans and an African-print top from Christie Brown. And honestly, I mostly had the cute shoes off at work. Though I loved heels, I was not a masochist. Unless I was trying to impress someone, I didn’t wear these shoes anywhere I was going to spend a significant amount of time standing.
Wait. Was I trying to impress someone tonight? I shook my head at the unbidden thought.
I forced myself to nod to Cole and Chad. Chad smiled at me, although with an equivocal expression. “Wow, look who came out. You never come out.”
I smiled. A small one.
Chad had the distinct handicap of not knowing when to shut the fuck up, because he always had to go and say the wrong thing. “You know, we call you the robot because you’re not like a real girl.”
Did Cole put him up to this?
I blinked at Chad. Slow and steady, staring him down until he was the one to look away. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘woman.’ Not ‘girl.’?”
Cole looked like he was on the verge of a smile, his lips twitching at the corners.
What was that? He wasn’t scowling at me like usual. “Glad to see you made it out, Addo.”
“Well, you said to come, so I came, didn’t I?”
“I am honestly surprised you listened to me at all.”
For a good thirty minutes or so, it was easy. We all bantered about cats versus men then moved on to some lighthearted office chat. That tension knot that I’d felt between my shoulder blades eased. I did know how to do this. And I hated that it was Cole who’d reminded me.
When Drea got up to go to the bathroom, Chad took her spot. “So, Ofosua.”
I lifted a brow and met his gaze. “Chad?”
“Weren’t you supposed to be engaged or something?”
I felt like I’d been poleaxed right in the solar plexus, and for a long second, I couldn’t speak. “Yeah, well, it didn’t work out.”
“Oh, he wasn’t ready to settle down? Did the idea of fucking you forever scare him off?”
Cole’s voice was tense and remarkably growly. “Chad, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Fuckwit Chad lifted his brows. “What? I’m making conversation.”
“Try not making conversation that proves to everyone what an asshole you are.”
He shrugged at Cole, then at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I knew I was expected to say it was okay, but it wasn’t. “Yup, not your business.”
He rolled his eyes. “All right, so how come you never come out? It’s been a few months since you stopped blinding us with your ring. How come you’re not on the prowl? I mean, if you need someone to break you back in…”
After I threw up a little in my mouth, I murmured, “You know this is sexual harassment, right?”
“All I’m saying is I can help you learn how to date again.”
I lifted a brow. “Do you really think you’re the guy I’d pick to help me start dating again? I’d be the one doing the charity work there.”
He frowned. As if it had never occurred to him that he wouldn’t be the kind of date women wanted. “What’s wrong with me?”
Drea came back in time to save me from having to be the one to tell him, when she said, “You mean, besides you being an utter and complete asshole?”
Chad gave us a condescending laugh. “Yeah. Hit me.”
Drea and Emory gave me an encouraging nod, egging me on to eviscerate him. Challenge accepted. “You think you’re God’s gift. No woman likes that. You’re inherently selfish. Again, no woman likes that. And you’re offensive. And guess what? No woman likes that. Yeah, it makes you not the best candidate, really.”
Emory high-fived me. “What she said.”
Chad rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to help Ofosua out.”
“When I need your help, I’ll ask for it.”
He took his shot and slammed it down. “You’d be cute for a Black girl if you weren’t so uptight.”
The microaggression rolled off my back like I was a duck. “And I’m so concerned about what you think, why?”
He laughed. “Touché.”
At that moment, my phone rang. I pulled it out of my purse, and pursed my lips when I saw who it was. Yofi … again. I immediately declined the call and shoved it back in my purse, my stomach pitching.
Cole leaned over, concern etched on his brow. “You look ashen. What’s wrong?”
I stood up, ignoring him. I needed some air. Right away.
Before I knew it, Cole unfolded his long, lean body and took my hand. The sudden spark of electricity had me gasping, but he didn’t seem to notice as he led us through the crowd.
My heartbeat started to echo in my head, and I could feel the panic of the walls closing around me. A busboy jostled me, making me trip over my feet. Damn these Jimmy Choos. Firm hands caught me quickly, pressing me against a solid, hard body.
Cole still held my hand, but had wrapped his free arm around me, his hand pressed firmly against my lower back, holding me steady.
I blinked up at him rapidly while, around us, the crowd grew. When his gaze dipped to my mouth, I licked my lips nervously. I watched in rapt fascination as his gaze narrowed and he muttered something I couldn’t hear over the din in the bar. I wasn’t a lip-reading expert, but it looked like he’d muttered, Fuck me .
Which obviously wasn’t right.
But it wasn’t until he leaned forward that my heart attempted a mutiny by trying to jump out of my chest and my lungs forgot how to function. And possibly the worst betrayal of all came from my brain, which promptly jumped on the why, yes, it would be a delightful idea to kiss Hot Cole in the middle of a crowded bar signal.
The closer he leaned, the tighter I held my body, lest my arms involuntarily wrap around him and pull him closer. Much closer.
But Hot Cole’s proximity didn’t hit the intended target of my lips; instead, he kept going and stopped at the shell of my ear. When he spoke, his words sent an involuntary shiver through me.
Christ. I was a mess. Get it together, Addo. You don’t even like him.
“You good?” His words, while utterly innocuous, sent my body spiraling in a haze of need and uncertainty. He was going out of his way to be nice, and I was acting desperate and lust-crazed.
But to be fair, it wasn’t my fault. His voice, pitched that low, should have been illegal. The husky quality, and the intimacy of his proximity, coupled with the musk of his cologne, would have sent anyone into a lust-fueled fog.
After I gave him a sharp nod, he pulled his hand away from my back, a move that had me missing the weight and the heat, and continued leading me outside to the back patio.
The cool fresh air instantly calmed me, helping my mind clear, and I dropped his hand when he found us a quiet spot in the corner. “Thank you.”
“No problem. You looked like you needed a breather.” His voice was soft when he spoke, and his gaze kept dropping to my lips.
I had to be imagining that, right?
“Careful: you keep being this nice, I might start to think we’re actually partners.”
He flashed a grin at me even as he flagged a waitress down. “Aren’t we? ‘Drake and Addo’ has a nice sound to it.”
“First of all, why did you assume you’d be first? My name starts with A . I should be first. But anyway, we’re not partners, Cole. That would imply we are equals.” I guess with the new imprint, technically, I was his equal now, but the power dynamic hadn’t quite shifted that much.
He sighed. “Look, I understand why you wouldn’t want to work with me. But I still think we make a decent team. The authors are yours. You nurture them. But I can sell the shit out of them. And I’m actually going to do my job despite what you think. I’m not trying to screw you. And also, I speak rich dick.”
The laugh burst out of my lips before I could stop it. “What?”
He shrugged. “Look, I know you think I’m a dick. And you would be right. Sometimes I am. But I really do speak the language.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “About what you said… maybe my uncle isn’t expecting much from your line. The fact that he paired me with you probably means he doesn’t think much of me either, now that I think about it. But it’s an opportunity to prove him wrong. Are you going to blow that?”
This imprint was never about me. Or about the work that I had done. This line was about looking good to outsiders. This line was about the veneer of moving forward as a company.
It stung but was no less than I expected. But it was an opportunity to show what I could do. And I could do something spectacular.
“Working together means you don’t undermine me, Cole. No more bullshit tactics like Evan. No Aliza Manns. I’m getting her off my list. We have to actually be a team.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Okay. Whatever you need. Also, give it another day. Evan will comply. If he doesn’t, I will handle all his bullshit personally. As for Aliza, I agree with you. Do you think pawning her off is going to work?”
“I do. Taking another look at the book, it sort of feels like someone told her to make it edgier. She’s not a bad writer, it just feels off. I’m going to send some notes to Carol about how to make the book shine. Top of that list, make it more authentic. No more literary blackface.”
His eyes went wide. “Wow.”
I shrugged. “That’s what she did. If I can get Carol to see the diamond in the rough, my worries are over.”
“Jesus, you’re brilliant.”
Did I preen at that? Yes. Was I proud of it? No. “Yes. In other news, water is wet.”
His crack of laughter sent a wave of warmth through my chest. “Why didn’t I know you were funny?”
“I’m only funny with people I like.”
There it was: another flash of a grin. If the man kept smiling at me like that, I was going to have a problem. “I knew you liked me. Okay, so what can I do tomorrow to support you?”
I chewed my bottom lip as I pondered. “You can start by answering the emails I’ve already sent to him. I’ve trod softly; now you’re my big stick.” The immediate twist of his lips into a smirk had me shaking my head, panicked. “No! That’s not what I meant.”
The grin he flashed was wicked. “If you say so. How much time do you spend thinking about my big stick?”
“What? No!” I covered my face and despite myself, I laughed. Laughed. At the devil incarnate. The thing was, he was a colossal pain in the ass, but he was also right: I couldn’t go at this alone. I hadn’t handpicked half of my team, and the only person who was really in my corner rooting for me was Emory. It wouldn’t kill me to have another ally. One who had power in the office. Even if it was Hot Cole.
But can you be friends with him?
That was the question of the century. Especially if I kept having these weird I’d love to feel his lips on mine flashbacks and vibes. I wasn’t a fool.
At least not anymore.
I don’t know what it was: the suddenly crisp, cool air, my ability to breathe, or my relief that I hadn’t freaked out in front of everyone at the table. Whatever it was, I could hardly believe the words coming out of my own mouth.
“Fine. Partners,” I muttered grudgingly.
He grinned at me. “I like how that sounds. Your skills, my big stick.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Why do I regret this already?”
“That’s not regret; that’s excitement you’re feeling.” He nodded at someone he knew. “Give me one sec.”
“Sure.” When he was gone, I took the opportunity to check my phone.
There were several texts from Yofi asking me to please call him, one from Emory that she was on the dance floor, and one from Cora.
CORA:
You, my love, have a date with Omar tomorrow. He’ll pick you up at 7.
What the hell?
Sure, I’d said she could set me up, but this was so fast. I didn’t even know the guy.
That’s why it’s called a blind date.
Oh God, was I this person? Could I say yes? Dare I say yes?
Or you could risk it all with Hot Cole.
Time to try new things.
OFOSUA:
That’s great. I’m so excited.
Had I used the right emoji to convey proper enthusiasm? Who knew, but the point was, I had a date. When Cole came back, my mood was lifted.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m good. Thanks.” As the wind started to pick up, I inclined my head. “We’d better get back inside.”
Cole let me go first. Which was probably for the best, so I didn’t change my mind. I still felt lightheaded as my mind churned. What was Yofi still calling me for? I had nothing to say to him.
I hadn’t expected the crush of people. “Wow, it’s even more crowded in here now.”
It was harder to maneuver as we traversed the bar. As we attempted to reach our group, we were stuck in the middle of the dance floor, and the music switched to Afrobeats. And there was Cole pressed up against me. All I could do was stand there stiffly.
Cole stared down at me, and I stared back at him, our bodies pressed together. To protect myself, I put my hands up, but that was almost worse, because then I could feel his chest muscles.
Where did he get those muscles from? His gaze stayed on me and mine on him. And there was this long beat of silence where I could almost see what my friends saw. He could be charming. And he was incredibly hot. I inhaled, the scent of sandalwood cologne wrapping me in a cocoon. A little musky, but mostly crisp. And then we were bumped again, creating space between us, and I could breathe. It was like someone had opened the window and let in the air.
“Hey, shithead, who’s your friend?” The question came from a tall, olive-skinned guy dressed in fancy jeans and a pullover, but by one of those designer brands where the fabric was so soft, it felt like butter on your skin.
When Cole didn’t introduce us, he stuck out his hand. “I’m Tallon. Friend of Cole’s. And you must be Ofosua Addo?”
My brows lifted. “Why do you know who I am?”
Tallon grinned. “Because you’re the only one who can put that look on his face.”
“You mean his I’m going to commit murder look?” I joked.
Tallon grinned. “Oh, buddy, I like her already.”
I laughed despite myself. On the surface, he should be everything I loathed. Everything that reminded me of some of the kids I’d grown up with, who were more content to spend their father’s money than actually do some work themselves. But there was something endearing about him. Like he might look the douchebag part, but there might be something nicer underneath.
“Are you sure you’re his friend?”
Tallon laughed. “Sometimes I’m his worst enemy. But yeah, we’re usually best friends.”
“Do I have you to hold responsible for his behavior?”
Tallon held his hands up. “Oh no, not that. Listen, I barely know the guy. He turned up on my doorstep one day and begged me to be his friend. That’s how I got here.”
I laughed.
Cole ignored him. “Who wants a beer?”
It was the first time all night that I felt normal, a little bit lighter. I had to say, it was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.