Glass House by Chinenye Emezie

Author:Chinenye Emezie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Random House South Africa

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Osas and I had started sleeping with each other before we could properly pronounce each other’s full names. He was one of the senior consultants at the Xenox Institute, where I was training. I only found out he was Mayo’s friend the day Mayo had come to take me out for lunch and we had bumped into him. Mayo’s best friend or not, it did not stop our impending lustful quest. Before any of this happened, I had caught him a number of times giving me suggestive looks. Although I knew he was married, I had no idea how newly married he was.

I looked up at the wall clock across from my desk, worried I would be breaking the promise I had given to Mayo about coming home earlier in order to meet another of his old friends today. Not that I was particularly excited to meet any more of his legion of friends.

‘Come in,’ I said to the person knocking. I knew who it would be – it was always the same person who visited my office when I happened to be working late. And just like the other nights, he had one thing in mind.

‘Workaholic, what are you working on today? It’s way past closing time, madam.’

The aroma of the amala and ewedu in the plastic container in his hands greeted my nostrils as I looked up. ‘Just give me a moment, Osas.’ I was smiling in spite of myself. There was something about him that made him irresistible, and it wasn’t just his looks.

‘What exactly are you working on?’ He came behind me to peek at my work on the desk, his freshly sprayed cologne filling the air around us. It was clear that he’d sprayed it on himself just before coming to meet me.

‘This won’t take long. I’m rounding up these figures for the new clients Mr Adeneye commissioned; he insists it must be on his desk first thing in the morning.’

‘Oh, that can wait,’ he said and pulled me up from my seat.

He was wearing a black shirt and grey trousers, and his black-and-white-striped tie was hanging loosely from his neck. It took just one look at each other’s faces and, with our eyes melting into each other’s, I pulled him onto my desk and we were tearing at each other in seconds. It was a major miracle that my desk had not broken in two from the pounding it received from Osas and me every other day.

‘Typical Nigerians, believing what they want to believe regardless if it makes absolutely no sense.’ Osas was talking calmly while giving me the look he’d been giving me since the first day I met him in Xenox’s reception hall.

‘Such as?’ Mayokun said, sipping his drink.

‘Such as what Ambrose is doing now. Marriages aren’t meant to be celebrated only through white weddings. There are different types of marriage, each taking on a different form. Are you saying that without the white man we Africans wouldn’t be getting married

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