Nkiru noticed immediately.
“You know her?”
“I know who she is.”
“Everyone does.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Toby placed the letter down.
“Her father was senior finance oversight when I worked at Akinwale.”
“Kunle Balogun?”
“Yes.”
Something in his voice changed.
Nkiru watched him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Stop saying that.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She stood.
“You have said ‘nothing’ for eight months.”
Toby’s expression hardened.
“I lost my job.”
“I know.”
“I know you know.”
“We borrowed rent twice.”
“I know.”
“Your mother thinks you are doing consulting.”
“I know.”
“Half your friends stopped calling when your name entered the papers.”
Toby looked away.
Nkiru continued.
“I work double shifts.”
“I sold my grandmother’s bracelet.”
“I lie to people when they ask whether you are okay because I know your pride cannot survive their pity.”
She pointed toward him.
“Do not tell me nothing.”
Toby sat.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“I told you.”
“They framed me.”
“Yes.”
“I did not steal forty-two million naira.”
“I believe you.”
“Then what else?”
Nkiru looked at him for a long moment.
“That is what I am beginning to wonder.”
Monday morning, Meridian called.
Not Sola.
Corporate HR.
Nkiru was asked to report to Akinwale Group headquarters.
She nearly refused.
Toby did not want her to go.
“Why?”
She asked.
“Because those people already destroyed me once.”
“They own the place where I work.”
“Then leave the job.”
“With what money, Toby?”
He had no answer.
Nkiru went.
The Akinwale headquarters occupied a glass tower in Victoria Island.
Nkiru had never entered beyond the public lobby.
An assistant took her to the nineteenth floor.
A conference room.
Dapo sat at one end.
This time, he wore a dark navy suit.
Nkiru stopped.
She recognized the face.
Not the clothes.
The face.
“The customer.”
Dapo stood.
“Mrs. Eze.”
Her eyes moved to Fari.
Then back.
Understanding arrived slowly.
“Oh.”
Dapo gestured.
“Please sit.”
Nkiru remained standing.
“I would rather know whether I still have a job.”
Dapo almost smiled.
“Your suspension has been withdrawn.”
“My missed shifts?”
“Paid.”
“Tips?”
“We calculated an average.”
“Then thank you.”
Fari looked surprised by the directness.
Dapo did not.
“Did you know who I was?”
“No.”
“Not even after I asked your name?”
“No.”
“Would it have changed what you did?”
Nkiru thought.
“It might have changed how nervous I was.”
Dapo smiled.
“But not the decision?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the decision was not about you.”
“It was about whether somebody could humiliate another customer because management feared her money.”
Dapo nodded.