At the Hilton hotel, she parked in the employee bay and walked into the building. Leaving instructions with the front office not to accept any visitors for her, she took the elevator to her fifth floor office. She wanted to tackle some records and finish up an order in preparation for the busier nights the club had on Fridays.

Her assistant had not come in for the past two days, so she was behind her schedule. As the day progressed, she was interrupted a handful of times, but only by people who had previous appointments. When she finally checked in some numbers around six, the order was just about ready.

About to pat herself on the back, Efe half-jumped off her seat as a man’s voice shattered the silence.

“Who is Ms. Sagay? Someone at the front desk referred me to the assistant general manager. Where is she?”

Efe sat back down as her secretary replied that it was late, and Ms. Sagay could not see visitors. She tried to return to work, but the angry voice tugged at her memories, prompting her to the door. She opened it to hear him better. The man complaining had his back to her and she took in his tall frame and wide shoulders.

He wore jeans, but his outfit was made more formal by a well-ironed and collared shirt. Her secretary asked to help the man with his problem and Efe waited for him to speak again, but his next words pushed thoughts of placing his voice out of her head.

“I’m done dealing with secretaries. I’d like to speak to Ms. Sagay,” he said, placing an emphasis on the title indicating her unmarried status.

Efe knew the ‘Ms.’ preface was not common in Nigeria but still felt annoyed at the chauvinist tone in the man’s voice. She opened the door wider and marched into the outer office. “I am Ms. Sagay.”

He turned towards her, and she blinked. It was the face of her nightmares. Taken by surprise, Efe took a step backwards, tottering against a chair as her legs folded under her. The visitor moved to help her, and Efe had to stop herself from shrinking away. He assisted her to a padded couch and insisted she sit.

She blinked several times before looking up, but the face that haunted her was still there. The visitor stared at her from the opposite armchair.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“I’m fine!” she replied, with feigned strength, gooseflesh rising on her skin at the lack of recognition in his eyes. Forcing her gaze away, she sat up jerkily, crossing one leg over the other. Not feeling comfortable that way, she jumped to her feet.

“Are you sure you’re OK?” the visitor asked, his voice still calm. “I’m a doctor.”

“I’m good, just a misstep, the carpet...” Efe flicked at her nose and cursed under her breath. It wasn’t a surprise she was so rattled, but she needed to get a grip. It wasn’t Kevwe as she’d first feared.

“If you’re sure.” He shook his head, his gaze flicking over her once more. “I don’t understand you independent women.”

Efe glared at him, and then ordered the hovering secretary away. When she faced him, his expression said she’d lost her mind. Well, it was his fault she felt like Alice in Wonderland, with a buzzing noise in her ears and her heart thumping.

“You say you’re a doctor?” Her mind repeated one name over and again. He had to be Ofure, Kevwe’s twin brother.

“Dr. Mukoro, the owner of Miracle Hospital and Lab,” he replied, stretching forward his hand. “I came to collect my long overdue business report.”

It was as she already knew. Quivering inside, Efe accepted the handshake and asked him to follow her inside.