Chapter 20 Niyi
Niyi
RETURNING FROM MY WINE SHED, VEE PLACES A NEWER Riesling on the table. Merc uncorks it, expertly pouring us three glasses.
I swirl the glass to release the aroma, and a hint of butter wafts up to my nose. But when I take a sip, the sweet pear flavor jumps out. Not dry enough.
Merc smacks their lips. “How long did you spend on it?”
“Was concentrating for an hour.”
“Any thoughts on why white wines are harder than red for you?” Vee asks, taking another sip, even though I didn’t reach the desired effect. She loves a sweet wine.
“Minus not having The Sight?” I ask.
She cocks her head to the side, giving me a dead stare. “Well, duh.”
“Probably your affinity for reds makes you subconsciously put in more effort,” Merc answers for me. “It’s why a lot of submersibles break down in the Caribbean Ocean.”
Seeing my confused look, they explain further. “Uncle Hashim, Neptune, lives in Jamaica and despises them, especially the billionaire- or corporation-owned vessels.”
“Evidently, feelings do affect powers?” I ask, giving Vee a pointed stare.
“What you were thinking was wrong, though. I literally told you following our hearts is how we unlock The Sight.” Vee throws a cushion my way. It hits me smack-dab in the face.
“Venus!” I’m ready to return the cushion back to sender.
“It wasn’t supposed to hit your face,” she says, already raising her arms and darting her eyes towards the only escape route—the door to the kitchen.
Merc watches us with amusement in their eyes. I track Vee’s hesitant movements, trying to predict her direction to ensure the cushion collides. I aim to the best of my abilities, narrowly missing her but hitting Merc.
Shit.
Out of everyone in the family, Merc has always been the most mischievous, even before receiving the power of the trickster planet.
For the next few minutes, we’re simply cousins again. Not pseudo-gods. Just a good ol’ fashioned family engaging in extremely childish, violent play-fighting.
The three-way battle continues until my phone rings.
“Hello?” I say, out of breath.
“Um, is this Niyi?” the other person says, and I recognize it’s Moyo. “Is this a good time?” she asks, just as Merc hits a distracted Vee.
I stifle a laugh. “No, no. I mean yes! it’s a good time. It’s always a good time to talk to you.”
Vee, with murder in her eyes, begins chasing Merc around the living room.
“Are you sure?” Moyo asks, clearly hearing Merc’s cross between laughter and a shriek.
“How about I come to yours, and we take a walk? My place is too chaotic for a phone call.”
“I can tell.” Moyo laughs softly. “See you in a bit?”
“Of course.”
I shiver when I get to Moyo’s front door. Wearing only a fleece jacket was a mistake. The initial adrenaline and sweat from playing around with Vee and Merc made everything warmer.
It’d be too much of a hassle to go change, so I knock on the door.
“Coming,” Moyo calls out. She opens the door in a matching green sweatsuit and a blue puffer jacket. She takes in my simpler outfit. “You’re not cold?”
“Had to rush out the house. I’ll survive.”
“Sure? We could go inside?” Moyo offers.
It puts a smile on my face. “A walk would be good. Also, you have gotten nicer to me.”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
“You can admit we’re developing a good rel—working relationship.” I catch myself. Moyo has a goal. I have a goal. Get it together, Saturn.
Moyo’s expression is unchanged. She must not have heard my blunder.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” I ask.
Moyo pulls out a carefully folded paper from her jacket pocket. “I completed the questionnaire.”
Reality sucker punches me harder than Merc hit Vee with the throw pillow.
“That’s amazing.” I infuse as much pep into my words as I can to disguise my disappointment. “I’ll take that and make sure everything is taken into consideration for your second date.”
Moyo withholds the document. “Remember, this is a reciprocal relationship. You don’t get to read my deep thoughts without sharing as well.”
Wanting to be in her company a little longer before our working relationship ends, I give in. “Sure, ask away.”
It takes Moyo a moment to read the first question and her response. Her voice is velvety as she reads. It’s no wonder she works with children. Her response is well thought-out, a proper exploration of both her wants and needs.
I know exactly how to fix the algorithm to incorporate her desires, and my Saturn-side rejoices, but Niyi harbors bittersweet feelings.
“Thank you for sharing,” I say when she’s done.
“What about you? Are you dating? Wait, can I ask that?”
Knowing there’s no future between us, I say, “It’s technically outside work hours. I won’t tell, if you won’t.”
“Deal.”
“To answer your question, I am not dating right now. Maybe never, if I’m candid.”
“Why not?”
Simplifying the truth, I say, “Work, family, there’s just so much going on. I don’t have the space to be a good partner.”
Moyo’s brows crinkle and I anticipate a question. “But do you want to?”
“Doesn’t matter what I want.”
“Coming from the guy who pushed me to think beyond the generic and reflect on what I’m looking for.”
“Do as I say, not as I do.” I shrug.
“Hypocrisy doesn’t look good on you, Niyi,” Moyo says. “ I know you believe there’s no different path for you, but you’d be surprised by what a strongheaded, iron-willed personality can do.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“You have to ask? I’m Saturnian, baby.” Moyo does a 360, making me laugh. If this is the last night before she meets her soulmate, it’s a good one for me. “What are you? I don’t think I ever asked?” Moyo follows up.
“Also Saturnian. Aquarius sun and moon.” Another reason why my dad made me his successor.
“You’re a stubborn Saturnian and a new moon baby, but you’re rolling over and letting your life be dictated by external powers?
” Moyo huffs, aghast. “Niyi, not to tell you how to live your life, but come on. You definitely know more astrology than me, but Aquarians go against the grain and new moons are literally new beginnings.”
Coming from Moyo, this familiar information sounds new. For the first time, my placements aren’t spoken in reference to being Saturn for my father or the family business. I might not have The Sight, but I have the Saturnian iron will that helped me maintain my distance from my dad for years.
“You’re right,” I mumble. “Thank you.”
“Simply returning the favor,” Moyo says softly, looking away.
I pause and stand in front of her, not letting the moment simply pass by. “You helped me realize some things, so I mean it, thank you. There’s no need to brush it off. You want to be with someone who will appreciate you? Then it’s time to start accepting others’ gratitude.”
Moyo looks at me, her lips slightly parted. For once, I’m unable to read her expression. The air feels supercharged, or it might just be the cold and my improper jacket.
“Once again, thank you, Moyo,” I say, trying to read her brown eyes to no avail.
She watches me for a beat before responding, “You’re welcome, Niyi.”
“Great job.”
“Do I at least get a sticker?” Moyo jokes, breaking the tension. “I always have stickers on deck for my clients.”
“They’re kids.”
“All I hear are excuses,” she smirks. We haven’t moved but have somehow moved closer.
“What would satisfy you?”
“Well, what are my options?”
“You know you shouldn’t answer a question with a question,” is all I can say to avoid going even further downhill.
“And what are you gonna do about it?”
The moonlight illuminates half of her face and shadows shield the rest. Almost as if Moyo’s wearing a mask, like she was at the party. The only time we’ve met where she wasn’t a Cupid’s Bow client and I wasn’t Saturn.
I wish I could return to that night. I wish it were that night because I want to kiss her. Right now—staring at her round cheeks, losing their luscious color in the cold, and the coily hair I’d like to dig my hands in to caress her scalp—all I can think about is kissing Moyo.
“Moyo,” I say, breathlessly.
“Niyi,” she responds.
“It’s pretty late. Let’s call it a night.” The words exit through gritted teeth.
“Uh, you’re right.” Moyo clears her throat. “It’s cold and late and it’s bedtime.”
We walk back in silence. There’s not much to say, at least on my end, because every cell in my body is begging to embrace her.
In another world I would, but despite Moyo’s pep talk, I’m still Saturn.
And with that comes impossible responsibilities that make me the kind of partner I wouldn’t wish on anyone, especially not on Moyo.
“Night, Coach,” she says once we arrive at her door.
“Night, Moyo,” I reply. “We’ll get your second date on the books.”
“Looking forward to it.”
I rock on my heels. “Likewise.”
Moyo looks at me, one hand on her doorknob. “You’re not…”
“Want to make sure you’re inside before I head home,” I explain.
“I’m already at the door.”
“Humor me.”
Moyo rolls her eyes slightly, opening the door. I watch her go in, waiting for the oak door to close, but it opens once more.
She hurries out and hands me the completed questionnaire. “Forgot to hand it in. Don’t want to be a bad client,” she jokes.
“Impossible.” I smile.
“Uh, this is goodnight, for real. Text me when you’re home?” Moyo heads back to her door.
“You’ll be the first to know. Have a good night.”
The door closes with a thud that oddly mimics the aching sound of my heart. Without Moyo’s presence, the cold permeates deeper than expected. I really should’ve worn a proper jacket.
Perusing her thoughtful responses, I know exactly who to pair her with for her second date. As much as it pains me to do so, giving Moyo the best chance at a long-lasting, present, meaningful lover is more important than my feelings.
I should’ve rejected Dad’s inheritance. I shouldn’t have shown up to the transfer ceremony. But I did. Out of cowardice, resignation, and oddly, the childish desire to gain his approval. Instead, the man barely spoke to me afterwards and was on the next flight out.