Page 32 of Craving a King

He drops his voice. “Ella, by the time I finish the apology tour I have planned for your heart and body, you will be more than civil.”

I ignore the clench between my thighs. “Kofi, we are attending as business associates and nothing more. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear. Now, what time should I send a car to the Westin to pick you up? Will seven work? I’ve also booked the very best hairstylists, makeup artists, and stylists to help you prepare for the evening. You will be pampered to no end.”

Damn! He’s really good.

“Seven is fine.”

He releases a breath. “OK, I’ll let you rest. Would you like to visit the village Tafo in the morning? Unless you have other plans?”

Oh, hell no. He thinks it’s that easy to go back to the way things were. I’m not going anywhere with him but this damn ball. But then again, this seven-day hiatus has really put my community mapping behind schedule. I need to start getting to know more of his people. My tour with Thomas Owusu was a waste of time. I’ll make him sweat.

“I’ll have to think about it. I already have plans for tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see.” I can tell from his tone that he is taken aback. “Well, please let me know as soon as possible.”

“I will.”

He lets out a deep sigh, clearly grateful he survived this call. “Perfect. I look forward to your response. Good night, Ella.”

“Good night.”

Chapter Nineteen

Reunion

Kofi

“Kofi, why are you here again?

Ella is not going to like this one bit. Especially since you didn’t tell her you were coming with me to pick her up.”

“She will forgive me, Senya. I just know it.” Senya is pretending he doesn’t hear me, but I see him stealing glances at me from the rearview mirror. Senya is not just my chief of staff—he serves as my bodyguard, driver, best friend, and general overall right hand. Partly because I don’t like or trust anyone else. But also, because we grew up like brothers. He was orphaned at the age of six when his mother was mysteriously murdered. His village abandoned him because he never had a father. When he showed up at the palace kitchen doors begging for food, Akua took him in and raised him as her own. My mother would not have much to do with him, but she encouraged me to treat him like a brother. It was odd, but I loved having a constant playmate and confidante.

Consequently, Senya is also at times my therapist and the first one to call me on my shit. The look he’s giving me now is screaming BULLSHIT, but he won’t say it. Not because I’m his king. It is because he, more than anyone else, knows once I’ve decided something, it’s done. I’ve decided surprising Ella by picking her up for our day in the village instead of sending a car is the best way to get her to start forgiving my egregious transgression of not believing her. The element of surprise is all I have.

She didn’t even agree to come with me until six a.m. this morning over an email. I can’t blame her for the move. If she treated me the way I treated her eight days ago, I don’t know if I would have the grace to agree to go anywhere with her.

Senya clears his throat to get my attention. “Yes, Senya. What is it you have to say?” I smooth the white linen pants I’m wearing to ward off wrinkles, preparing for his rebuke.

“I was just going to say I don’t know why you think this is a good idea. The last time you changed logistical plans on Ella Jenkins, she almost got back on a plane to Atlanta. I don’t think your fit body, accent, or charm will work this time. She’s had all three and is still mad at you.”

He has a point, but I don’t care. I’m committed to this plan, so I may as well see it through. “Sure, she’ll bristle at first, but I will wear her down.” I throw a wink at him through the mirror and he shrugs in disgust.

“Well, please don’t wear her down in the royal limo. I knew I should have taken the armored Range Rover out.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry, Senya; that’s what partitions are for.”

“Yes, and I will definitely raise it as soon as she enters the car. Not because you will seduce her, but because I am sure she will curse you out properly in person. Better yet, I will summon one of the royal drivers from Accra so he can escort you two. I will take a motorbike back; I feel like taking a ride.”

I nod in agreement. What if she really starts to yell at me when she sees me? I need to prepare myself now to withstand the attack. No matter what, I cannot mess this up. If she needs to scream obscenities at me, I will take it. I’m hoping she will be screaming at me for different reasons by the time we reach the village of Tafo.

I spend the final hour of the 90-minute drive preparing how I will greet Ella when I see her. It’s been eight days since I last held her, and it feels like an eternity. It will take great strength not to kiss her on-site. I should prepare for her rejection, but in my heart that scenario does not exist. When we arrive at the hotel, Ella is waiting on a bench in the beautiful kente pant outfit her friend Maya had Mawuli make for her. She looks like a vision. Her hair is down and framing her face; her curls seem bigger than ever. I love the her afro; it makes her look fun and serious at the same time. No Black woman would ever wear an afro like that unless she was very confident in who she is. That’s sexy.

As we pull up to the curb, suddenly I’m nervous and very grateful for tinted windows. I’m not sure how she will react when she notices I’m here. Then the car stops.

“All right, your majesty—there she is. Go get her. I’ve already alerted the royal guard that you need a driver. One should be here within three minutes; we’re a little early.”

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