“Yes. I’m well past such nonsense.”
Eze’s clenched jaw and brooding said otherwise. “You’ve been tweaking his nose since the day he got here. You’ve let him believe we are more than we are. Consider speaking to him, even if it is just to bring closure for you both.”
When Eze began to tap his fingertips against his thighs, which he admitted was a way to calm his mind so he could concentrate on mental math, Mags knew the conversation was over. He wouldn’t take her advice.
Nasir had had a similar reaction to her advice the night before. After he informed her of his plans to leave, Mags said, “Eze told me. Safe travels.”
“You are cheating on him with the white-haired man, and Eze is too trusting of you to see it.”
My, my, my. Nasir was definitely letting her have it. Mags was tired and in no mood to caudle. Before she stepped into the elevator, she faced him fully. “I don’t think you give him enough credit, Nasir. He wasn’t too trusting to see when you cheated.”
The man’s eyes rounded in surprised shock. “Cheaters always think everyone cheats.” As she depressed the floor number and as the doors were sliding shut, she couldn’t help but add, “Eze deserved better.” She really despised cheaters.
Bácús was three blocks away.
She was running on little sleep. She’d spoken to her parents for almost an hour. Unsurprisingly, Jonathan and Daniel were their new heroes. Mags agreed.
Her parents were going to be home at the end of next week. They even said they had some exciting news to share, but they wouldn’t tell her a thing until they were face-to-face.
They planned to invite everyone over for a big dinner and expected their daughters to come early to catch up.
As if she wouldn’t be the first one there to greet them. Her parents planned on explaining to their family and friends about getting cancer again. Her mom sighed. “Not that my bald head won’t give it away.”
“You don’t need hair to be beautiful, Mom. Dad thinks so too.”
Mags told Eze before she left the flat that morning about her parents’ homecoming. He insisted that he would buy her plane ticket to Scotland. She’d refused, of course. He refused to take no for an answer. They glared at one another until Jol butted in.
“Eze’s family produces oil and owns a hotel chain. Let him buy you the damn ticket, Margaret.”
“Fine but buy two tickets. My folks want to meet my roommate.” Mags had finally come clean about school, her move. She didn’t, however, burden them with her finances or roughing it on the attic floor.
Bácús was two blocks away.
A frisson of unease zipped up her spine. She was afraid to hear what Jonathan had to say. If nothing else, the meeting should answer where in the hell his mind and intentions were. She wanted to move past him and concentrate on her new life, which, with Eze’s help, had taken a decidedly better path.
She lifted her chin and readjusted the tote straps, which dug into her neck and shoulder, when several things happened at once.
She heard the squealing of tires somewhere behind her, men shouting and a woman screaming, and a wide-eyed Nasir running at her with his arms outstretched.
twenty-three
JONATHAN
Mags wasn’t coming.She’d stood him up. It didn’t seem her style. If she changed her mind, she would have at least shot him a text.
He texted twice and called once, but her phone was shut off, which was odd when she was in the middle of building a new business.
No, Margaret Morrow didn’t hide. She hadn’t hidden once when he had women hanging on his arm. She would look him in the eye and pretend he wasn’t hurting her. He deserved to be stood up.
As he was picking up his discarded napkins and empty teacup, finally conceding after an hour that he should pack it in, his phone lit up with a call from an unknown number.
He answered. “O’Faolain.”
A man with an accent asked, “Jonathan O’Faolain?”
“It is. Who is this?”
“Eze Otaji. I am…Margaret’s friend.”
