Page 54 of Craving a King

Ella

My adrenaline rushes from excitement and pure joy as we enter Two Urban Licks.

It is my favorite restaurant and the only place that serves candied Brussel sprouts the way I like them. In the lobby, I glimpse our reflection in the mirror behind the bar and confirm that we are indeed a stunning couple. I’m in a red silk strapless Valentino mini dress paired with nude four-inch Louboutins. My curly afro is perfection as it flanks my shoulders. Kofi complements me in a perfectly cut black suit paired with a black dress shirt opened at the neck. He looks regal without even trying. During the car ride to the restaurant, Kofi shared how Akua helped him win over the council. The good news along with the good man standing to my left makes me feel like I’m sitting on top of the world.

We decide to hit the bar while we wait to be seated. Kofi goes to order drinks as I take a seat. My feet are killing me, but my overall look is so worth it. The bar is full and I lose sight of Kofi as he presses into a crowded space a few feet from me to catch the attention of a bartender.I bet he’s never had to fight for his own drinks before.There was no time to make a proper reservation at the type of place he is used to. Plus, he asked to take me to my favorite place, so here we are.

I am swiping aimlessly through my phone when I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder. I look behind me and freeze with shock. It’s none other than Marcus Banks looking at me knowingly. He swallows and I keep my eyes on the apple inside his thick neck easing down and then up. “Ella! Wow, what a surprise to see you here!”

I cross my arms and flick my gaze upward into a sharp eyeroll. “This is my favorite restaurant, Marcus. It has been for 10 years. You just refused to take me here. I believe you said the crowd was too common. Remember?”

He laughs and flashes a cocky grin. “Did I say that? You must remember it wrong. I love the scene here—Keisha put me on to it years ago.”Why did he bring up that home-wrecking tramp?Thank God I didn’t know this sooner—the news would have put a bad taste in my mouth every time I visited.I don’t want to share anything in common with that bitch. I wish he would just stop talking, but Marcus loves the sound of his own voice. God help him if he’s still around when Kofi gets back. “You look good, baby. Have you been in the gym? I bet you’re finally joining Maya for her workouts. I told you they would do you a world of good.”

He’s doing what he’s always done—hiding his cruel intentions in carefully craftedalmostcompliments. Three years ago, I would dig into his comments and flip them around in my mind to determine his true meaning. I would spend weeks doing anything to get a real compliment from him. I craved his validation.

Now, I feel no need. He’s still the tall, handsome man he always was. But none of it holds any appeal to me. He clearly isn’t hitting the gym with his previous vigor. He’s slightly softer around the middle. His hair is graying at the temples. His wine-colored tuxedo jacket and tight black jeans scream trying too hard on a Friday night. He’s a 33-year-old man attempting to look 25. Must be Keisha’s influence.

“Actually, no. I’m just a lot healthier now without the stress of three years ago.” I slowly cross my legs and give him a peek at the African tanned thighs I wrapped around Kofi earlier. He takes the bait and lingers a little too long. Got him! “Plus, my new schools in Africa keep me engaged in far more righteous pursuits than becoming a gym rat.”

He narrows his eyes and sips his beer.When did Mr. Dom Perignon start drinking Heineken?“You have schools in Africa now? Congratulations. I know you always wanted to use your law degree to help the poorest of children. Of course, that doesn’t really allow you to use it, does it? Who helped you get past the UN? You should have called me. I would have looked over the paperwork for you.”

I don’t bite. I eye Kofi out of the corner of my eye and decide to change the subject. “So, I heard you and Kiesha got married last year. Congratulations.”

His smile is genuine, like a man in love. “Yes. I thought of inviting you, but I didn’t want it to be awkward. You were always such an important friend. It felt weird not having you there. But I didn’t want you to stress over it. I saw one of your sorority line sisters a few months before, and she said you were just throwing yourself into that house you bought.” He gives me a look of pity. I want to punch him right in his stupid face.

“I do love my home. You made the right decision. I wouldn’t have come to see you marry so far below your own false standards. Has Keisha finished her paralegal studies yet? I know you were paying for it. Or should I saywewere paying for it, since that was actually during our engagement. It’d be nice to know there’s some sort of return on my investment.”

He grips his beer tightly and flares his nostrils. “Please. Your little charter network and child defense cases barely paid for the cars. I put Keisha through school and subsidized your lifestyle so you could play Mother Theresa. So don’t give me your victim bullshit.” The last part hits me like a bullet. As I hop off my barstool to give him a real piece of my mind, my royal escort arrives like a bulletproof vest.

“Ella, my queen, here is your drink.” Kofi’s deep African accent is in full force when he addresses me. Marcus stares at all six-foot-four of my African king. He’s speechless. Marcus reaches his hand out and offers a handshake.

“Hello, I’m Marcus, Ella’s ex-fiancé.” Why he feels the need to evoke ancient history with that lame-ass title, I don’t know.

Kofi silently stares at him and his weak hand before slowly taking a sip of his drink and smiling at me. I guess Marcus doesn’t know you don’t reach for the hand of the Asantehene.

“Marcus, this is King Kofi Ajyei. The leader of the Ashanti in Ghana.” Kofi nods in his direction and continues to sip his drink.

Marcus’ lips curl back into a tight line. “King? Since when is there a king in Ghana?” he says with a sneer.

Kofi turns to place his drink on the bar and winks at me before addressing him. “Since 1672, actually. And of course, we have had royalty since before Christ. Western nations actually stole the concept of monarchy from us. My bloodline has ruled since 400 A.D. If you would like a moment to Google and correct your assumption about the leadership of 11 million people, please do so. We do have time since our table is not yet ready. Usually, I would make a hasty retreat from such ignorance, but, as you said, you and my Ella were close once. I will not offend her.”

Marcus stiffens. “That won’t be necessary.” He shoots a look at me. “I guess this is who helped you secure your UN contracts. I guess necessity makes strange…bedfellows.”I know he didn’t just go there!He’s trying to say I slept my way into my contract! I step forward to give him what-for. But Kofi intercepts. First, he slightly touches my neck like,don’t move, I got this. Then everything around me begins to move very quickly.

Kofi grabs Marcus by his tuxedo jacket lapel and the cheap fabric rips. He looks dismissively at the inferior piece of fabric and decides Marcus’ shirt collar will do. Marcus tries to fight him off, but Kofi easily overpowers him and sits him on the stool I just vacated. He grabs Marcus’ neck and presses his face to the bar. Kofi leans in so closely that his face is almost touching Marcus’ and hisses in his ear, “Listen to me, you filthy piece of a jackal hide, Ella is a brilliant woman that secured the UN contract alone. But you surely know that.”

He bends Marcus’ arm behind his back and presses it up toward his shoulder blade. “You just want to hurt her, and now I will hurt you. If you ever see her walking down the street, look the other way. If you ever deign to speak to her, you’d better address her as Her Royal Highness or I swear to all my ancestors, I will rip you apart piece by piece until all that is left of you is the limp stick between your legs for your foolish wife to lick upon. Is that clear?”

Marcus doesn’t reply. He is wild-eyed with anger and fear. Kofi bends his arm further. Finally, Marcus reluctantly nods his head. Kofi turns him around and grabs him by the shirt.Lord, please don’t hit him!People are so engrossed in Kofi’s display of physical dominance they start to crowd the area. I quickly feel strong hands pull me back and step in front of me. Quite naturally, Senya has made his way through the crowd.

“Your majesty!” he scolds. “Let go of the jackal now! We have no time for frivolous lawsuits.”

Kofi doesn’t budge. “Kofi, seesei ara!” he roars in Twi. Kofi obeys. Wow, I’ve never seen Senya have to do that before. It’s amazing how quickly he calms him down.

Marcus leans back against the bar rubbing his neck and coughing, and Keisha pops out of nowhere looking disheveled.I wonder what she was up to while her husband was getting his ass handed to him? She fusses over him and starts talking about a lawsuit. Marcus shushes her and they slink away. He knows he does not want any more smoke with King Kofi Ajyei.

I stand and wait for Kofi to come to me. He smooths my hair and kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I don’t usually let my anger get the best of me, but it seems, Queen, since I met you, I have been forced to defend your honor on more than one occasion.” I give him a side-eye before breaking out into a smile.

“Oh no, your majesty. Thomas Owusu’s broken nose was on you.”

---