Monday morning, I woke up and checked my phone, hoping to see a sweet SMS or chat from Yemi—but there was nothing. *Shuo!* The guy must be very unromantic. Didn’t he know that now, while the fire in my heart was still hot, was the best time to establish himself with sweet messages? Something to make me feel like I was the one he thought about all night? I was disappointed and decided I would ignore him too. It wouldn’t do to look like I wanted him more than he wanted me.
It was funny, though, how much I was stewing over someone not calling me.
Our Monday morning meeting was in full swing—a time to align everyone on the past week’s progress and plan ahead—when Yemi’s call came through. Normally, I would have stepped out to take it, no questions asked. But today, I let it ring. He needed to sweat a little for not calling or texting me earlier.
After the meeting ended, I called him back.
“Hello. Good morning,” I said.
“Ah! I was wondering if someone kidnapped you last night. What happened?”
“I was in a meeting.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. How was your night?”
“So, it’s this afternoon you want to know how my night went?”
Silence.
I realized I’d overstepped.
“Oh… hahaha. I get it. I didn’t call earlier. Pardon me, please. The truth is, my mornings are sacred. My phones are usually off because I use that time to shape my day. Errr… but let me ask you a hard one—how come *you* didn’t ask how my morning went when you didn’t get any message from me?”
Silence.
Now *I* felt foolish. Here I was, acting like a teenager in love, while Yemi was on a completely different wavelength.
“Hello? Are you there?”
“I am,” I replied. “I just feel like a child.”
“Oh no, don’t feel that way. That wasn’t my intention. I was just asking… you know… Okay, I’m sorry for making you feel that way. What’s my punishment?”
“You’ll frog-jump from your office to your house.” I laughed. “But seriously, you made me think differently about things, and I appreciate it. Sorry, I’ve got another call coming in—I think it’s a customer. Let me call you back.”
“Oh, no problem. Talk later.”
As I ended the call, I saw the incoming number and froze. It was Daniel.
“Hello, Dami. This is Daniel Adebayo.”
Silence.
“Dami, are you there?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
“Hello? Dami, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Daniel. I can hear you,” I finally said, my voice void of emotion.
“Why the silence? You don’t sound surprised to hear from me after all this time.”
“Surprised? Why should I be?”
“Is this Damilola Coker?”
“Didn’t you check before calling? Of course, I’m surprised you had the *effrontery* to call me.”
“Why are you sounding like this? I was robbed on my way to Abeokuta. I’ve just managed to retrieve my line today. As soon as I did, I called you, thinking you’d be worried about me. But clearly, I was mistaken. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Wait, did you say you were robbed?”
“Yes. At gunpoint. They took everything—my phones, laptop, and suitcase.”
“How did you get my number then? And this isn’t the number I had for you.”
“I always did an MTN backup weekly. So as soon as I got my SIM back, I restored my contacts. The number you had was my Airtel line.”
“Okay… Now I’m confused. I’ll call you back. I need to process this.”
“What’s confusing you?”
“Either you or someone used your number to dupe me of ₦900,000.”
“What? How?”
“Like I said, I’ll call you later.”
I ended the call, dropped my phone, and sat still. How did the scammers know I was close to him? Maybe my number was the last one he called. But he always locked his phone. How could they have accessed his call log? Could Daniel be telling the truth?
My phone buzzed, jolting me back. It was the PA to the MD of iPov Works, calling to cancel my 2 PM meeting because of an emergency in Abuja. I was relieved—I couldn’t muster the mental focus for any intellectual discussion that day.
I called Yemi.
“Someone’s missing me so much they can’t concentrate at work,” he teased.
“Daniel just called me.”
“Who’s Daniel?”
“My friend. The one who supposedly duped me of ₦900,000.”
“‘Supposedly’? What’s his story?”
“He claims he was robbed at gunpoint and doesn’t know anything about the scam. He sounded genuinely surprised when I told him.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I… don’t know.”
Silence.
“Why are you quiet?”
“I’m thinking. Can we meet him together? That is, if you don’t mind. I’d like to look him in the eye while he answers questions.”
“I don’t want to give the wrong impression.”
“What impression?”
“I don’t want him to feel under suspicion. It might make him defensive and harder to read.”
“Hold on. Isn’t he under suspicion? Why are you so concerned about his feelings when you’re the one who’s been wronged?”
“I just feel I should give him a fair hearing—alone. I’ll judge whether he’s truthful or not.”
“Alright. If you’ve already decided, why did you call me? Was it to seek my opinion or get my endorsement?”
“You sound upset.”
Yemi sighed. “I’m sorry. Maybe I don’t see things your way. I trust you to handle it. Is he in Lagos now?”
“I didn’t ask. I was too confused to think clearly. I told him I’d speak to him later.”
“Okay. Confirm when he’ll be in Lagos. Meet him in person. Read his eyes, his body language—judge for yourself. I trust you.”
“Thank you.”
There was something steely in Yemi’s voice I couldn’t quite place. Still, I was sure of one thing: inviting Yemi to meet Daniel wasn’t a good idea. It might make Daniel too self-conscious, and the truth could stay hidden.