Page 7 of Choosing the Chief

“OK, fine. I’m going to return to my home. I’ll arrange some movers to move my clothes and other items over tomorrow.”

He looks up with a hint of pain in his eyes, but he blinks it away instantly. “I’ll handle it. Just let me know what you want.” I nod and look away, focusing on anything else in the dining room but him.

Adom stands and slips into his cashmere Burberry topcoat. The camel color complements his skin tone and it is tailored to perfection. After buttoning up, he walks over to pull my chair out. He removes my leather and wool cape from the back of my chair. As I rise, he places it on my shoulders and stands behind me for a second longer than necessary. His hands never leave my shoulders. It feels like goodbye. He brings his mouth close to my ear to speak. “I ordered a car for you.”

He steps around me and walks out, leaving me alone to deal with the uncertainty.

Chapter Four

Flight

Adom

Lufthansa’s international lounge is packed tonight, and my flight to Accra leaves in one hour. I am catching up on work when I am interrupted by a beautiful waitress.

“May I get you anything else, sir?” Her skin has the color of cinnamon, she wears a smile that shines like diamonds, and she has curves in all the right places. As she serves the drink I ordered, she pushes her prodigious bosom in my face. Ordinarily, I would take her to one of the private sleep suites and fuck her brains out. Most of my international business trips start with a lounge waitress’ hands happily tied above her head while I pound away to my release. Today I’m not in the mood. I won’t contemplate why.

“No.” She looks genuinely disappointed at my curt response. So is my cock, which is waging a full protest. I raise my drink and nod slightly. “Have a good evening.”She would have been fun.

Leaving Maya at the restaurant two days ago proved more difficult than I anticipated. But I had to do it; she continuously breaks my rules. Her defiance of authority and disregard for her own health is unforgivable. Not to mention that I was starting to change into a man I couldn’t recognize. I didn’t even go back to the house. I don’t even know where she is. She said she was going back to her place. Not knowing where she is seems weird now. For eight months, my life revolved around knowing all sorts of intimate details about Maya. I can’t save her. She has to save herself. I’m done pushing. Every time I do, she just pulls away and falls further into a pill bottle or glass of wine.

When boarding starts, I am one of the first passengers to take my seat. I throw my carry-on into the compartment above. The luxurious first-class seats are worth every penny. I could have taken my company jet, but I hate dealing with private landings in Accra. It’s more difficult than most locales. I end up stuck at the airport for four or five hours. Instead, I got the best commercial seat money can buy. By the looks of these first-class resting pods, I’m going to sleep well through most of this flight. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in eight months. I’ll make up for lost time right now. Before I shut down for the evening, I re-read the email from my cousin Kofi. His plea beckons me to Ghana.

From: King Kofi Ajyei

To: Adom Annan

Cousin, I pray all is well. You should know that our grandfather, Yao Asante, Chief of Tafo, is not doing well. We fear he will join the ancestors soon. With Uncle Paul pledged to the cloth, he has no sons to rule and your mother is not eligible. You are next in the line of succession. It is time for you to play the proper role of a prince. It is time to act as chief. It is time for you to do your duty for your family and for your people. Your independence was always a temporary situation. I expect you within the week.

Safe travels,

King Ajyei

P.S. Ella requires me to say hi to you on her behalf.

My cousin is still a royal pain in the ass. We spent 15 years without one word to each other. He blamed me for his mother’s death, but I am simply the product of an affair that broke her heart and eventually drove her to walk into the river. I loved her, too—she was my favorite aunt. After all these years, he still does not consider how her death and the awareness that we actually share a father affects me. We only speak now because Ella married him. She tries to keep us connected. Neither of us are interested in being brothers. We can’t even be cousins. But he is the king. No matter what, I’m Ashanti and I’m royalty. His email is a thinly veiled critique.He stayed and I ran.I may not have been in Ghana, but I was never independent. Still, he is mentioning my birthright as prince, which is a nod to our brotherhood. I sense the hand of our grandfather in Kofi’s sudden recognition of my position.

Our grandfather, Yao Asante, is a hard man. He drove both his daughters to ruin. My sweet aunt Akosua did everything to please him and protect my mother from his bitter tongue and abusive hand. All that got her was a seat as Ashanti queen to a king not worthy of her pure heart. My mother, Afia, was neglected and left to her own devices. She seeks pleasure and validation wherever she pleases, including the bed of her sister’s husband. He’s been gone ten years. She’s hopped between as many beds in that time.

My thoughts fade as I drift away to sleep. The landing of the plane is what stirs me. Upon arrival in Accra, I text Kofi’s right-hand man and confidant, Senya, to fetch me. I will go and see Kofi right away so I can “pay my respects.” In reality, I will spend the first week learning everything I can about what is expected of me after the old man joins the ancestors. Then, I will spend the final three weeks of my trip convincing Kofi I am not the one to serve in this royal capacity. There must be someone else the council will approve, and I am determined to help find him.

Customs takes no time; I have royal clearance. After I grab my luggage, I spot Senya standing with his arms crossed at an exit door. He’s moving his head from the left to the right, scanning for potential threats. My cousin must not be far behind. I notice there is a member of Kofi’s guard at every door. Shit,he’s definitely here!I thought I could at least have another hour of peace before enduring his insufferable arrogance. On a positive note, maybe Ella is with him.

I approach Senya and he gives me a smirk. He knows this is bullshit. Just as I reach out to grab his hand and threaten to take the stupid smirk off his face, he speaks into a headset and Kofi appears seemingly out of nowhere.

He approaches me and extends his hand. “Adom, I am pleased you are here. It saved me a trip. I do not have to go to Atlanta to retrieve you.” He’s all business. He is dressed in a standard African business suit. Unlike Western business suits with blazers and ties, this is a two-piece linen suit. Just the long linen shirt with linen suit pants. It breathes much better than Western suits in Ghanaian heat. No doubt our childhood friend and master seamstress Mawuli made it for him. The deep blue color shines regally against his dark skin.

Growing up, I was jealous of his complexion. His ebony skin carried more weight with the ladies in secondary school. Plus, everyone in our family is the color of the cocoa beans we grow in Tafo. Everyone except me—I have a caramel complexion. I’m told our grandmother was half Egyptian, but she was dead long before I arrived. Maybe I would not have felt like such an outcast if she were alive during my coming of age. Maybe my mother would not have been such a whore, and the great man who raised me, Kwesi Annan, would really be my father.

I force a smile and grip his hand. “I would have welcomed you. My mansion has plenty of room. I know you admired it in last year’s issue ofArchitectural Digest; Akua told me so.”It’s definitely more of a marvel than that overdone cottage in the woods he calls Bonbiri. But to each his own.

He chuckles and I release him from my grip. “I’m sorry I took away the chance for you to flaunt your obscene wealth in my face. I know it is hard to come to a place where wealth will give you little standing with the people you will lead.”He’s more naïve than I thought.My money will influence the council to find a suitable replacement for Tafo’s chief.

I grip the strap of my Gucci duffle bag and am reminded that Maya bought it for me as a birthday gift two years ago. “Cousin, we both know leading the village will be no problem for a man like me. Have you forgotten our ancestors’ words?Money is sharper than the sword.You chose your lever and I chose mine.” The moment I say it, I know it is a low blow. But I don’t care. I know he’s not perfect, even if he pretends to be. His reign has not been without the mistakes of bloodshed.

He stares at me for a minute. He looks like he wants to hit me, but refrains. Instead, he turns to Senya and gestures toward my luggage. Senya immediately grabs my two suitcases. He motions for my duffle, but I wave him off. He shrugs and heads toward the door. Kofi finally speaks. “I know all of our ancestors’ words. You should pay particular attention to their warning:Money is not the medicine against death.” His glare is menacing, but I don’t flinch. After a silence that lasts just a moment too long, he throws his head back in a laugh. He slaps my back. “Come, cousin. My wife is eager to see you. I must please her before I lean into my own machinations.”

Is that a threat? I would whip his royal ass if he weren’t flanked by Senya and the goon squad.