LUCENT

3

TAYYIB

Agreeing to this meeting was one thing, but sitting here with her parents was another. They had been very welcoming, and the smiles on their faces did not hide their excitement. They had the same expression Mama had as I left the house. Her mother informed me that she would be down soon, but it's been about five minutes of waiting.

"You said she would be down soon, Fadila," the elderly man tells his wife.

"Yes. She should be here any minute," she responds, and just on cue, a girl walks in.

She looked around the room, and her eyes met mine for a split second before she looked away and sat on the floor by her mother's feet. She keeps her eyes trained on the floor and doesn't make a sound which doesn't sit well with her father.

"Ba ki iya gaisuwa ba?" he admonishes.

She slowly raises her head. "Ina wuni?" she says, her voice barely a whisper.

"Lafiya Kalau," I respond.

Her father gives a satisfied nod before speaking. "Tayyib, this is my daughter Nadira. She is my last daughter and very well-behaved. She can be a bit mischievous and rebellious, but it's nothing that can't be dealt with."

Was he expecting me to discipline her? Is this some babysitting job? The last thing I had time for was dealing with a little girl.

"Yes. Nadira has a funny way of thinking, but I believe her positive outlook on life is her best quality," her mother chirps.

"We'll give you some time to talk," her father says, leaving. Her mother follows him out after giving her a pat on the back and whispering something.

The moment the door shuts, she whips her head up and stares at me, "What's your deal?" she asks.

"Excuse me?" I say, wondering whether I heard her right.

"What. Is. Your. Deal," she repeats slowly, still maintaining eye contact.

I raise a brow, perplexed by the question.

"There has to be something wrong with you," she says, moving to the seat beside me. She props her elbows on the armrest and rests her chin on her fists, bringing her face closer to me.

"You are not ugly. You speak well. Dress well. And you're wealthy, I'm assuming. But you're having trouble finding a wife? You must have some off-putting qualities. If not physically, then mentally," she adds.

I stare at her, stunned by her boldness and in awe of her features. She stared back at me with thin almond eyes and plump lips pouted as if she was in deep thought. Her button nose twitches slightly as she stares.

"I am not having trouble looking for a wife," I finally respond.

"Oh. So you like me?" she asks with a smug expression.

"No," I answer bluntly.

She rolls her eyes, and her shoulders sag. "So?"

"Personally, I am not interested in a wife. I am here because of my family," I admit.

A mischievous glint swirls in her eyes, and her face lights up. "Perfect. Would you be interested in a deal, then?" she asks.

The businessman in me takes an interest, and I nod. "Let me hear your offer," I say.

She smiles and rubs her hands together like an evil mastermind would. "You want to appease your family, and I want my freedom. If we get married, I will act like the perfect wife and in return, you give me my freedom," she says.