Chapter 29 Ofosua
CHAPTER 29 OFOSUA
ADINKRA SAYING: (Aban) A symbol of strength.
HELEN ADDO: Hmm, next time too, go and bring another obroni boy. This should be a lesson to never do that again.
For three days I hadn’t slept. It didn’t matter that the summer weather beckoned with summer fun and weekend Hamptons trips or Central Park concerts.
I was numb.
I had walked away from Cole knowing he’d chosen the easy way out. He didn’t believe in me, in us , enough to try. And worse, it was my own mother who’d forced him into that realization.
But the cold truth was that he would have made the decision on his own in the long run. You couldn’t make someone love you more, after all.
I’d said all those things to myself. But that did nothing to soothe the deep, dark, empty pit in my gut. I was numb and broken. I’d so stupidly let myself start to fall in love with him. I had forgotten the basics. Again. Guys like Cole didn’t fall in love with women like me. They weren’t ever going to stick around.
I needed to focus on what I did have. Work.
I had an imprint to launch, and I was not going to throw it away because some fuck boy had dumped me.
Kukua’s friend had an empty flat, so I’d stayed there for the last few nights. I didn’t want to run the risk of running into my mother. I wasn’t ready to face her yet.
It had actually been peaceful. During the day, I’d work on my presentations for launch. Launch was the meeting where I’d present my whole debut list to the heads of sales, marketing, and publicity. It was the big meeting for editors, and we spent weeks preparing. I’d also unveil the name of the imprint, which made the meeting feel even bigger. I still didn’t love the name. It didn’t feel like me. But there was nothing to be done about it.
At night? Well, I’d been drinking. A lot. Not my finest set of hours, but it helped numb the pain I felt.
Thinking about Cole hurt too much.
Focus on work. You’ve got this.
My hands were sweaty as I stood up in the conference room. I’d known most of these people during my whole career at Drake. Hell, ever since Cole—my stomach cramped, just thinking of his name—but ever since he-who-shall-not-be-named started forcing me out to happy hours, I’d even gotten closer to some of them. I could do this.
Also in the conference room was Brian Cosmos, who gave me a warm smile. And Steven, who was, well, being Steven.
I just couldn’t understand how he could smile to my face all the time and not realize that I knew he didn’t have my career or this imprint’s best interest at heart. That he didn’t truly believe the books on my list were necessary to readers or to Drake.
He’s not your friend. He’s the boss.
I knew that. I did. But it still hurt. Because for so long, I had looked at Drake as my home. And that had been my mistake. Drake wasn’t my home; it was my job. A job I loved, yes, but it was still a job. One I could replace if I needed to.
You are not running. He’s not going to run you out of a job that you love.
As I took my spot, Emory gave me a sweet smile and two big thumbs-ups. “Good luck.”
“I don’t need luck. I’m prepared.”
She grinned. “Same old Ofos.”
Yep, cool, calm, and in control.
At least until Cole walked in.
I could feel him, his gaze, the heat of it, and I wanted to run, I wanted to crawl in a dark hole and hide. But I didn’t. Instead, I squared my shoulders, turned, and leveled a glance on him, one of nothing but derision. At least I hoped that’s what it was. Because I was concerned that it was one of pleading and longing.
And this is why we don’t fuck colleagues.
Watching him swallow hard and then shift his gaze, I knew I’d hit my target. But focusing on Cole wasn’t going to make this meeting go any easier. So instead, I focused on Brian Cosmos and started my presentation.
I was sweating by the time I finished, and I was pretty sure I could smell myself. But Emory was clapping her hands, and even Steven looked pleased. I did not spare even one glance at Cole. He didn’t deserve any of my attention. The one person I did pay attention to was Brian Cosmos, who approached with a grin. “My goodness, I knew when I met you a few weeks ago that you were something special. Well done.”
“Thank you. I’m really proud of our debut list. I’m excited about what we can do, and Mahogany Prose is everything I dreamed of as a young editor getting into this business. I have you to thank for the opportunity.”
He laughed. “We can look out for each other. Because from the looks of it, you’ll be bringing major opportunities my way too. And you don’t have to pretend to love all the books with me. I know the one I was concerned about was shoved down your throat.”
I sighed. “I can’t really speak to that right now.”
“I understand. Actually, do you think I could borrow you for a few minutes? I have something I want to run by you.”
Alone in my office, Brian gave me a warm smile. Something in his gaze held on for just a moment. And if I were anything other than dead inside, I would’ve seen it as interest. But I shut that off immediately.
It didn’t matter that he might be interested. Or that he was good-looking and brilliant. I couldn’t even think about anything to do with relationships again. I needed more time by myself. Eight months hadn’t been enough. Hell, according to all the smartest researchers, the happiest demographic was single women without children. Maybe that needed to be my life. My mother would die, but I at least would be happy.
“I know I said it before, but I’m impressed by what you’ve done with Mahogany Prose. The launch was perfect, full of passion and excitement, and you actually care about the stories being told.”
“Yeah. I mean, I come from a long line of storytellers. Everyone in Ghana is a storyteller. From the market to the elders to church, there’s always a story being told. I’m truly passionate about it. I want to tell love stories, especially those that center Black women. I want to tell stories of joy. Black people living joyfully, wouldn’t that be a shocker? Black women especially.”
“And that is specifically why I wanted to talk to you in private. We have an emerging stories arm at Cosmos Film and Media that focuses on marginalized stories.”
“Yes. That was your first division, right?”
“The young lady has done her research.”
“Well, when there are conversations being had about an investment possibility, you do your research.”
“I’m happy to hear that. And while I’m excited about what you can do with this imprint, what I’m most excited about is you . I’d love to see your passion and drive at Cosmos Film and Media.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“I know you are just getting your career in swing here at Drake. But your talents are being wasted. And I don’t think you necessarily have the support here someone like you needs.”
I swallowed hard. “Um, I’m not a film producer.”
“I don’t need you to be, but I do need you to be able to pitch a movie. From what I saw today, you can do that. I want someone to work with me who knows story, who can spot the diamonds and help develop them. Your eye is a large part of what makes you so valuable to a company like mine. And I want to remind you that we are Black-owned. Black-led.”
“You’ve caught me completely off guard. I’m not sure I can just abandon my authors. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you will think about it. I don’t head back to LA for another couple of days. We can talk more, maybe over dinner. I will try and convince you to come to LA. And maybe you come out for a week and see how you like it. I’m sure it’ll work.”
“You’re serious about this.”
“Very. I believe—”
Steven barged into my office without knocking just then, his face red. “Ofosua, I wanted to talk with you immediately after the launch, because that’s the best time to debrief, and then you disappear.” He lifted a brow at Brian. “Everything all right?”
Brian gave him a wide, confident grin. “Relax, Steven. I’m just having a conversation with your bright young star here.”
“Or were you trying to poach her?” Steven laughed as if that couldn’t possibly be what was happening.
Brian’s easy expression didn’t change. “Can you blame me?”
“ I was just joking, Brian. Let’s be serious now. After everything I’ve done for her, she wouldn’t dare run off to Hollywood, would you, Ofosua?”
“Mr. Drake. I haven’t made any decisions yet.”
“I see. Well. Hmph. Well.” He straightened up in my doorway as a look of distaste settled on his face. “Don’t think you’ll be able to come running back to Drake when you discover that television is not the same as books.”
My stomach fell. “Sir, I wouldn’t… I’m not… This is not that.”
Brian Cosmos did me no favors by laughing out loud. “First and foremost, Ofosua hasn’t said yes. And this was my idea, not hers.”
Steven turned to glower at me. “Normally, I’d save this for a private discussion, but as that’s not possible now, I hope you’ll still hear me. Mahogany Prose was specifically built for you. No editor would throw that opportunity away, least of all one so young. Your publishing career is all but made.”
I had to laugh then. “Was Mahogany Prose built for me ? Really? And here I thought we were diversifying at Drake because you needed Cosmos to invest. Did I miss something?”
Steven glared. “That’s called business, Ofosua.”
“Of course it is. Look, I haven’t said yes to anything.”
“If you take some nonsense job in Hollywood, you’ll be seriously damaging your future career prospects in book publishing. I hope you realize that.”
My breath caught. Was Steven Drake threatening me? “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your honesty.” I turned to Brian. “And thank you for giving me the opportunity to see the truth about my employment here for myself. I’m more than happy to accept your offer.”
Brian’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“Yeah.” I grabbed one of the Post-its on top of my stack of presentation materials, put my number on it, and handed it over. “I think I just quit my job, so you’ll want to call me on my cell to make arrangements.”
Cosmos gave me a beaming smile, his almost-too-white teeth setting off his sandy brown skin. “Ofosua, you are not going to regret this.”
I glanced at Steven, who glowered. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Mr. Drake. It’s been an education.”
And with that, I walked away from Drake Publishing.