He gave me a simple nod as I took a sip of my drink. It burned my throat as it went down and I made a mental note to come back here again and again.
“What’s your name?” his voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“I think you missed the entire Business 101 course,” I tsked, “That is bad journalism if I’ve ever seen it Mr. Cowe; you should have done your research before coming here.”
“Humor me,” his tone was dry.
I paused for dramatic effect and took another sip of my drink, “It is Adira Emiade Arogundade, which you would have known from a single web search.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Adira,” he ignored my taunt, “And an even greater pleasure to do business with you.”
“We haven’t agreed on whether we will be doing business together, so don’t get ahead of yourself,” I told him, “And speaking of getting ahead of yourself; it’s a bit forward to assume that I would want to be referred to by my first name. We aren’t even acquaintances yet.”
“I am fairly confident that I will butcher your last name if I tried, and although I didn’t take Business 101, I know better than to do that.”
“That must have been so emasculating for you to admit.”
“I have more than enough confidence in myself as a person to be derailed by something as simple as not being able to pronounce a name in another language.”
“Don’t you journalists pride yourself in knowing everything?”
“Aren’t you fashion designers all divas?” he threw back and this time I couldn’t help a small smile from growing, “This isn’t a romance novel where the guy knows how to speak every language on earth.”
“If this was a romance novel, you wouldn’t be the main guy.”
This seemed to interest him because for the first time since we started talking, he leaned forward on his elbows. “Who would I be?”
“An annoying and irrelevant character who probably dies after the third chapter.” I shrugged as I busied myself with my nails.
“The first three chapters sound like they will be the best part of the entire book.”
“Someone has an inflated sense of self worth,” I mused, “But quite the contrary actually; it would make for a very slow beginning.”
“I look forward to reading it and proving you wrong.”
I couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped my lips. How the hell did we get to talking about a book? I was supposed to be shutting whatever this is down because I didn’t want to do a documentary.
‘Are you so sure about that?’ my inner voice nagged.
“If I work with you,” I began and I saw the hint of a smile begin to form, “I said ‘if’ Mr. Cowe, I haven’t decided yet.”
“Of course you haven’t,” sarcasm ran thick in his voice.
I chose to ignore that and continue, “If I decide to work with you, we are going to have to set some ground rules.”
“I’m open to negotiation.”
“First of all I don’t want my employee’s faces plastered all over the internet. Their identities will be protected unless they say otherwise.”
“Done, anything else?”
“I want to have final say on everything that goes on the internet. There will be nothing about my personal life, and no intrusive questions. You film only when I’m working for the fashion show and during the event. Nothing else about my business goes to the public.”
“If that’s all, then we have a deal.” He waited to see if I would say anything else, “I’ll draft up a contract and send it over to you. If there’s anything that you don’t agree with then let me know.”
“Great,” I held out my hand, “It looks like you have yourself a deal.”
He took my hand with a grin and a buzz from my phone had me quickly pulling away. A small frown marred my face as I read the text.
