The remaining days flew past in a whirlwind of activity for us all. Cora and I had accomplished our goals, and even Dr. Pashtar grudgingly conceded our success. He’d come down with a touch of malaria and wasn’t as intrusive around the camp those last days. I helped Jack in the medical tent and found myself growing fond of the local villagers who kept arriving. Jack complimented my skills, and I enjoyed the tension between us, a friction that seemed only to increase as we spent more hours together. At one point, he stopped what he was doing to whisper in my ear, “You’re doing good, kid.”
On the final night, Dr. Pashtar had recovered enough to congratulate us all on work well done. The well had been built, the new houses raised. We’d started the week unsure any of us would be able to help here, but ended it knowing we had.
The flight back went quickly and without incident. After another round of bribing the authorities, we were in the clear. The team, now very aware of the flirtation between Jack and me, had maneuvered it so we were sitting next to each other. We’d be arriving in Lagos in a couple of hours, and Dr. Kim had again booked rooms for us at the Diplomat. I was pleased; I had liked the ambiance there when we’d first arrived. And all the fear and trepidation about the mission was gone now. We could thoroughly enjoy what the area had to offer. Jack had dozed off at some point, and his head was resting lightly on my shoulder. He looked young and vulnerable in his sleep, and that only made him more appealing.
Soon we were touching down in Lagos, and I roused Jack from his nap. Everyone else seemed relieved to have arrived in one piece. In the airport, among the shouting and clamoring passengers trying to outbid each other for seats, we said good-bye to Dr. Pashtar and Abayomi, who would be returning to his family in the northern part of Nigeria. Dr. Pashtar warned all of us to behave like respected scientists and in a seemly manner. In open defiance of this, Dr. Ingari had told us about a local beach that got pretty wild at night and made us all promise to go.
“How many days are we staying?” I asked Cora.
She shrugged. “A few. Will you go with me to the art gallery? I’d like to have some semblance of culture and learning, not just getting drunk on the beach.”
I agreed. It sounded very interesting, although we’d had a crash course in culture during our mission in the Oban Hills. Still, learning more about the history of Africa was something I was looking forward to. Dr. Ingari, on the other hand, complained he knew too damn much about anthropology and just wanted to party. We took taxis to the hotel and checked into our rooms. I was on the same floor as Jack this time around, and he helped me carry my luggage up. I had been shy around him since landing, and he had been a little more quiet than usual. Maybe he was just really tired, as we all were. Sleeping for a week in tents and sleeping bags had taken its toll. I looked longingly at the big, downy bed that awaited me and longed for a nap. But everyone had agreed to an early dinner, and I was jonesing for a shower and an unlimited amount of time to spend on my toilette. I wanted to look put together and elegant for Jack. I would no longer deny my motivations for wanting to appear attractive. It was entirely for his eyes.
After the very long shower in which I scrubbed my skin to a new gleam and conditioned my travel-weary hair, I emerged feeling the cleanest I had in days. I sighed with relief and sat down to apply makeup and style my hair, and also to put in the contacts I had forsaken for a week. The Coke-bottle lenses on my glasses made me look like an awkward teenager, and I was pleased to be able to ditch them. I wore the form-fitting black dress I had worn to dinner the night before we had left for the Hills. I’d have to go shopping in the morning for something attractive; all I had was dirty, dusty field clothes. I smiled with fondness at the stains on the shirts bundled up in my suitcase, they were thanks in large part to the baby chimp’s exuberant play. Dressed and ready, I stood at the window and watched the sun dip below the horizon. The night was warm but not uncomfortably so, and the ocean air pleasantly caressed my now-bronzed skin. Pulling on my low-slung sandals, I made my way down to the lobby to meet everyone. We would be walking to a nearby restaurant. I saw Jack with his hands in his pockets, staring into a potted plant in the waiting area. We were a little early, ahead of the rest of the team. I smiled, and as he glanced up at me I felt the butterflies take flight in my stomach. I would make more of an effort to return his flirtation, now that we were officially off duty.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, kid. Are you hungry? I’m starving.” I felt a blush rise into my cheeks at his repeated nickname for me. Kid. To me, it wasn’t condescending, it was charming. And that gave me a bit of confidence.
I was also pleased to see he had regained some of his usual effervescence and easy charm. I nodded and placed my hand over my stomach. “I can’t wait to eat as much as I possibly can. I hope you’re not put off by the size of my appetite.” That was flirtatious, I thought.
“You could masticate an entire cow in front of me, Mina, and I’d still think you were nothing but a lady.” He laughed. “Let’s walk together ahead of the rest of the guys,” he suggested, and I thrilled to think he wanted to spend time alone with me.
We ambled out into the warm night air and breathed in deeply, the salt in the air a natural aphrodisiac.
“I bet you aren’t looking forward to going back to Manhattan and the endless rain.”
“I don’t know, I always miss it when I’m away. My cat will be very unhappy with me though.”
We were strolling toward the restaurant through a quiet, winding street. The palm trees were swaying gently in the ocean breeze. Jack glanced at me. “So it’s just the cat waiting for you to come home?”
“Yeah, but I’m not the usual crazy cat lady. I do socialize now and then.”
“It might be a slightly nicer experience, visiting New York, if you were there.” His insinuation was pretty clear to me, and I blushed.
“You’re welcome to visit whenever you like.”
He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Is that a promise?”
This was getting intense, but I didn’t shy from it. “Absolutely,” I replied casually, but let myself enjoy his warm grip.
We arrived at the restaurant and were seated at a big table outside. The décor was inviting and culturally diverse, displaying art and furniture from all around the world. Jack ordered a bottle of wine for the table while we waited for everyone else to show up. The low lighting made the ambience feel decidedly romantic and this too didn’t seem to faze Jack. He toasted our continued friendship, and I felt a growing warmth in my belly.
The team arrived soon after we were seated. They were in a boisterous mood. More wine was ordered for the table, and Cora made it very clear that she was a voyeur to what she considered my date with Jack. The rest of the team, however, was engaged in lively debate and didn’t seem to notice any intimacy between us. Encouraged by Jack, I did indeed eat plenty of the delicious food. It was Nigerian fusion, with some French influence. Our table had gone through numerous bottles of fine wine when Dr. Ingari piped up: “OK, you lily-livered scientist types, it’s time to go to the beach, and I want to see all of you matching me drink for drink!”
With the gauntlet thrown down, we agreed to go to Eleko Beach, apparently the hip place to socialize during a night out in Lagos. I’d drunk enough that I felt sufficiently uninhibited. We crammed into two taxis, and I happily sat on Jack’s lap. He was as uninhibited as I was. During dinner he had fed me from his plate a few times and made every opportunity to touch my arm or rest his hand on my leg. Normally I’d be pretty standoffish with a man who was taking such liberties. I had been accused of being “Victorian” in my decorum toward men in the past. But this was different, and I was behaving very unlike myself. Perhaps it was because of my brush with violence in the forest, reminding me to seize all the joyous moments I could. Or maybe it was merely a natural evolution in my relationship with Jack. Regardless, I found myself welcoming it.
The five of us stumbled onto the pulsing beach, where music was blaring. Instead of being annoyed by the melee, which was my usual reaction to crowds, I found myself wanting to move to the bass and drumbeats. Jack grabbed my hand again and spun me around, and soon we were melding with the throngs of people, a mixture of locals and tourists, but all of them young and vital. Soon I was moving sinuously against Jack, who let his hands roam all over my arms, my back, my hips. It was intoxicating, and I felt like I was watching myself from a vantage point above the sweaty masses. An old slow song began to play, and the happy couples began swaying together. In the dark, I saw Jack’s teeth flash in a smile as he pulled me close and proceeded to dip me and maneuver me through the pressing bodies as best he could. I felt like some kind of enchanted princess whose time would be up at midnight. But midnight came and went, and we were all still drinking and dancing as the hour grew late. Things started to get fuzzy at some point, and I was aware we were in a taxi again on the way back to the hotel. Jack seemed less drunk than I felt, although how that was possible I wasn’t sure. But then, I never could hold my liquor. I was giggling uncontrollably when we got to the hotel and Jack ushered me into an elevator after saying good night to the rest of the team, all of whom were just as plastered as I was. I was hanging onto Jack for support as things kept spinning around me, and still couldn’t stop laughing. I was drunk but also intoxicated at my night with this gorgeous man. In my haze, I hoped he’d kiss me. And then he did. We stumbled into my hotel room, our hands roaming over each another. My brain kept repeating one word over and over: “Finally.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of you if you’re too drunk,” Jack whispered, his lips against my throat.
I had somehow managed to close the door behind us, and he was guiding me toward the bed. I prayed my clumsy limbs wouldn’t trip us up.
“I’m lucid,” I gasped in reply, and we slumped down together on the mattress.
I was kicking my shoes off when Jack began to undress me. Somehow he was much more deft at zippers and buttons than I was. I broke away from his eager lips to ask him one thing: “Will you still respect me in the morning?”
And he laughed. After that, it was all sensation. I feared my awkwardness would intrude on our intimacy, but he was skilled enough for both of us. Yet it felt less like a one-night stand than the beginning of something important, something lasting. He didn’t rush, but there was a sense of urgency. We explored each other and found it endlessly fascinating. Strips of early morning light were creeping in through the window when I found myself nestled against his chest, tracing the skin there. I thought he might be dozing, and looked up to see his dark lashes resting against his cheeks. I touched them, and he stirred.
“I was dreaming,” he murmured, and I smiled.
“About what?” I asked, my voice low and husky.
“It wasn’t nearly as good as what I’m looking at right now.”
He propped his head up on his hand to look down at me. We had forgotten to close the window the night before, and a slow breeze wafted in across my skin.
“What are we going to tell the others?” I asked, a little concerned about the inevitable gossip.
He looked out the window and shrugged. “I think we should just act like we always have. After all, we’re adults.”
I stretched my arms out, yawning. The sheet fell away from my legs and Jack was suddenly very interested in them. I giggled, pulling him back to my side. The light had brightened a little, and I wished the night would last a little while longer.
“You know, I have a recurring dream sometimes,” I told him. I wanted to share as much about myself as I could in these moments. Feeling close to him had become my only concern.
“Tell me about it.” His voice was muffled, his face buried in my hair.
I described the ocean cove as best I could, using my hands to illustrate the scene that had visited my slumbering mind almost every night for weeks now.
“Is this a place you’ve seen somewhere?” he asked, his hands now covering mine.
“I don’t think so. I wish I knew.” I sighed, but I was content. He was right, this was better than any dream an unconscious brain could create.
“I should get back to my room, and we should go down to breakfast. See how hungover the rest of the team is,” Jack suggested, and I moaned, turning my head into the pillow. I didn’t want to face reality, or a judgmental group of colleagues. Jack traced his palm down my spine and I shivered. Maybe we could just stay here for the day….
“Up and at ’em, kid,” he chided, and stood to reach for a robe.
I admired the length of his well-muscled thighs, then hauled myself up.
“I’ll go take a shower. Meet me back here in half an hour, OK?” I said, resigned to the morning ahead.
He planted a chaste kiss on my forehead, then tilted my chin up to meet his gaze.
“I’m thinking I should move back to my apartment in Manhattan. What would you say to that?”
I was speechless. The world suddenly opened up with possibility, and all I could do was smile.
“See you in half an hour,” he said, and I was alone again.
I walked slowly to the bathroom, reveling in the sensation of skin that had been worshipped and roughened. I stared into the mirror, trailing a finger along my reddened lips. I didn’t hurry my shower, but wished I weren’t soaping off the scent of him. But maybe now there would be other mornings like this one in our future…. I was toweling my hair, musing about Jack’s calloused thumbs, wondering how they had gotten that way, when I felt a faint rumble under my feet. The building remained motionless, but it was as if a large engine had been started beneath me. Bewildered, I looked out the window and saw several people below me stopped on the street. They were looking around in confusion, having felt it too. The palm trees were swaying as if there were a breeze, but the air remained still. Realization began to dawn on me, and I looked out toward the ocean. A sliver of dread crept into my belly, and I turned from the window, pulling on a pair of dirty pants. I rushed to finish dressing, and heard a quick knock on my door. It was Jack, a look of worry furrowing his brow.
“Do you think?” was all I asked, and he nodded.