Nosa and Favour
The restaurant was cozy, warm lights reflecting off polished tables. Favour had already taken off her jacket and was inspecting the menu like it owed her money.
Nosa watched her with a smile. “You know,” he said, “for someone who said she was starving, you’re taking your time.”
Favour looked up. “Excuse you. Important decisions require patience.”
“Hmm,” Nosa nodded. “That’s what you said when you were six and spent twenty minutes choosing ice cream.”
“That was strategy,” she replied quickly. “I don’t rush greatness.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I should’ve known.”
She grinned, clearly pleased with herself, then glanced at him. “You didn’t forget,” she said.
Nosa raised an eyebrow. “Forget? This dinner was written in my mental calendar. Highlighted.”
“Sure,” she teased. “Just admit you set an alarm.” “I did not.” “You absolutely did.”
He sighed dramatically. “Alright. One alarm. Maybe two.”
She laughed, then settled back into her seat, calmer now. “I’m really glad you came,” she said. “It feels nice… just us.”
Nosa’s voice softened. “I like it too. No noise. No rushing.”
Favour nodded, stirring her drink. “Daddy?” “Yes, my negotiator-in-training.”
She smiled. “Do you think parents should treat all their children the same?”
He studied her face, then answered carefully. “Yes. Fairness matters. No one should feel like they’re competing for love.”
“Even if one is… more stubborn?” she asked, eyes dancing. Nosa scoffed. “Are you confessing something?”
She shrugged innocently. “I’m just saying. Hypothetically.” “Hypothetically,” he said, “love doesn’t reduce because one child talks too much.”
She gasped. “Wow. Attacked at dinner.”
He reached across the table, squeezing her hand. “You and your sister matter to me. Equally. Always.”
Her teasing faded into something quieter, warmer. “I believe you,” she said. “I just don’t want anyone feeling invisible.”
“No one will,” Nosa replied. “Not on my watch.”
The waiter arrived, interrupting them. Orders were made. Food followed. Laughter returned in small bursts. Nosa’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it. For now.
Chapter 7
The lunchroom smelled faintly of coffee and grilled sandwiches, a mix of warmth and familiarity that made it easy to forget deadlines for a moment. Rose sat at a round table with a few other staff, their laughter bouncing off the walls.
“So, we really pulled that deal off last week,” one of the junior analysts said, leaning back in her chair. “I was worried it would collapse at the last minute.”
“Thanks to Rose,” another added, nudging her playfully. “Her idea for the delivery schedules—if she hadn’t suggested that, we’d still be figuring out the shipment errors.”
Rose shrugged, cheeks warming. “It was a team effort. You all added the real magic.”
The door opened quietly, and David stepped in. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, voice low but warm. “Of course not,” Rose said, surprised but steady.
“Everyone’s been talking about the South African branch expansion,” he said, joining in. “How are the production plans coming along?”
Rose and the others eagerly filled him in. Details of fabric designs, weaving techniques, and cultural adaptations to appeal to South African markets spilled across the table. Rose found herself explaining the strategy she had proposed to streamline the supply chain.
David listened quietly at first, then asked a few questions. When he did, Rose realized he wasn’t just listening—he was thinking, analyzing.
“You handled the shipping problem very well,” he said casually, once the lunch crowd had thinned. “I didn’t notice at first, but your solution actually saved us a lot of time.”
Rose blinked. “Oh… thank you,” she said quietly, brushing it off. “I’m serious,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You have a knack for noticing what others overlook.”
When the room was almost empty, David shifted slightly, his tone softening. “Are you… doing okay with everything? I mean, outside the office?”
Rose froze, just a little. “I… I’m getting there. It’s been an adjustment.”
He nodded, understanding. “Good. It’s important to enjoy the work, yes, but also to have balance. That’s… something I learned over time.”
“I really like working here,” she said honestly. “It… feels like I can contribute.” “That shows,” he said quietly, eyes meeting hers for a moment. “Not just with work—just… how you handle things.”
“By the way,” he added, his tone shifting slightly playful, “my family’s coming over for dinner this weekend. Kemi arranged it, I think.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “Your… family?” “Yes,” he said, leaning back, calm. “Thought it’d be good for everyone to meet. Nothing formal—just dinner.”
As they finished lunch, Rose felt something loosen in her chest—the tension of the world outside these walls, of Yemi’s plotting and Nosa’s control, even her own insecurities. Here, she could just… be seen. And it was enough for now.