Zara || A Nigerian Lesbian

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗

𝚈𝙰𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙽
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Today at the office was as busy as ever.

Whoever said, running your own clothing line in Nigeria was easy; that person was a liar. If one didn't have the funds, right resources, and connection in this country — you were doomed to fail, somehow.

My phone rang, disrupting my meeting with that Lolia of a girl. Looking at the phone, it was Zara, and without hesitation, I picked it up. "Ms. Zara," I sounded official due to the humans in front of me.

"Hello, Ms. Yasmin. I wanted to let you know that I will be coming over to your house later today."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you," I caught myself saying. "Considering everything you are doing to make my event a success."

"I am so happy you are happy," she replied, but her tone didn't sound like she was happy.

There was something wrong, and I could sense it. What was Zara not telling me? "I'll be home pretty soon, see you then."

"See you soon. I am looking forward to a successful evening."

A smile crept up on my face. "When I have you in charge, I do not doubt that it will be a success."

I ended the call and turned to look at the people I had in my office. No one looked like they were listening until Lolia opened her mouth. "Excuse me, Ma. I thought the event planner was supposed to reach out to us if she needed anything or needed to see you?"

This girl. What was her endgame here? Why was she so bent on seeing that Zara had no access whatsoever to me. "Can you all leave? Except for you, Lolia," I said, taking a seat behind my office desk.

Some sort of smile crept on her face as everyone picked up to leave. She walked towards me and said to me, "I thought you wouldn't ask them to leave. I didn't know how long I could hold it in."

I shook my head in disbelief. This girl was way over her head, and if she wasn't careful, it was going to end in doom. "Can you please sit over there." Pointing to the armchair across from me.

Her brows creased in the form of a frown, as she huffed and puffed, then sat down.

"Listen, Lolia, what happened the other night wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't in a good place, and I needed to let off some steam."

"So, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

She was definitely catching up. "I won't put it that way, but if that's how you see it, yeah. We are both adults, so this shouldn't be hard to understand, right?"

She laughed hysterically. "Ah, Ms. Yasmine. You shouldn't have done this at all. And now you want to leave me, for that thing called Zara." She clapped her hands in disbelief.

All of a sudden, the look on her face turned evil. She looked like someone filled with rage and ready to blow up any minute. But what she didn't know was who she was talking to.

'Let me tell you something about me. I ruin people's lives, people who reject me and discard me like toilet paper. You have no..."

That was a lovely way to describe herself. I held up my hand to shut her up. "Let me stop you right there. In case you have forgotten, you work for me. Remember that I am Yasmin Gerald. I don't ruin lives. I destroy them, I crush them to pieces, so it's hard to pick them back up. If you as much as try any nonsense, you will regret your actions. Now get out of my office, you brat."

She scurried away, but I knew the girl wasn't going to stop. I needed Zara to tell me what all this was about. Were they lovers or what?

When it came to Zara, I couldn't deny the immediate attraction when I first saw her at the restaurant. The type of attraction I hadn't felt in a long while, even after my divorce. I didn't even know this woman.

I glanced at my phone, three more hours until I would see Zara—that was something to look forward to.

As the car pulled up in the house, I noticed Zara's Nissan Sentra. That car had to be changed. "Aliyu, get George to send me the list of new cars he has in his lot," I told the driver.

Getting out of the car, I saw Zara walking towards the catering truck that just pulled in. "Ms. Yasmin," she greeted subtly.

The bubbly Zara I knew wasn't there, the person I saw looked distraught and out of place. "Zara." I held her hand to stop her from moving any further. "Are you ok, you don't look good."

"I am fine. Thank you." She replied coldly.

I was still holding her hand when she looked me in the eyes, and I could see that she was about to tear up. "We can go inside if you want? Someone else will handle this."

She sniffed, and let go of my hands, with a faint smile. "Please, come with me. I want to show you what we have been able to do."

We walked to the large backyard, where two tents were set up. Under the tent were two long dining tables set, with peach-colored linens. "This is lovely and impressive," I told her. Anyone who knew me knew how hard I was to please. But Zara, she made it easy for me.

"I am glad you feel that way. You would be having Timi Dakolo and Bovi, to be the MC. Timi, of course, will serenade the guests with soft music."

"How much again are you spending on all of this?"

She chuckled. The sadness and sorrow were gone, just a little bit. "Enough to make sure everything is perfect."

"I trust you, my dear."

"Thank you, Yasmin. I need to go and make sure everything is in place, and the event starts soon."

"Sure." I smiled at her as she walked towards the house. "She's my oasis," I whispered to myself.