“Sophie?” he asked.
I cleared my throat, my skin flushing at my unusual outburst. “Sorry, uh, I have a favor to ask you.”
“Where are you? Are you okay?” he interrupted.
“I’m fine. In fact, I’m in Cape Town,” I answered.
“What! Sophie, you were under court orders not to leave Uganda!”
“It’s not a big deal, Pemmy. Karina and Charles approved it. It’s only for two days. I’m going back to Masego tomorrow evening.”
He was breathing deeply on the other end, obviously trying to keep himself under control. “If the courts get a whiff of this, you’re done, girl.”
My stomach dropped a little at his declaration but I insisted to him that everything would be fine.
“And what was your purpose in calling?”
“Oh! Right! I need to let Ian’s family borrow dad’s island in Belize. Can you let me know what dates it’s available.”
I heard papers shuffling in the background. “I’m very busy, Soph. Are you planning on escaping through Cape Town.”
I immediately felt offended but knew Pembrook was only looking out for me. “No, I assure you. It’s all very innocent. Is it doable or not?”
“Yes, it’s fine. The island is completely open this entire month. Feel free to offer it. Just let me know the date and I’ll arrange the staff.”
“Thank you, Pemmy. I appreciate it.” Silence descended over the line and I was afraid I’d lost him. “Pembrook? Are you there? I think I lost him,” I told Ian’s questioning face.
“No-no, I’m here. I’m here. You’ve just never said that to me before.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
o;Jesus, Mom. You know what? You’re right. Let’s wait. Yes, we’ll wait and announce it when Imogen is showing and then you’ll really have a scandal on your hands. Listen, we’re only doing this for you because we don’t want to compromise your career. If it were up to us, we’d wait until school was done and the baby was born, then wed in London at the church Imogen grew up in.”
“Do you expect me to be grateful?” Abri whisper-yelled, startling Imogen. “God, this is Ian all over again.”
“Abri,” Henrik said, “enough.”
“It’s,” she began, but Henrik silenced her with a hand on hers.
“I said, enough, Abri.”
Abri looked appropriately chagrined and it made me have a little more respect for Henrik. He wasn’t quite the easy pushover I’d first thought he was. The table got quiet once more when the waiter brought our drinks and took our entree orders.
The meals had arrived and still not a word had been spoken. Surprisingly, none of us were that hungry and we all pushed our food around our plates.
I cleared my throat, inciting the potential ire of Abri, but I didn’t care. “My father’s company owns an island,” I announced to the table. “I can offer you discretion.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Long Street in Cape Town was busier than the French Quarter at Mardi Gras. The street seemed littered with people, a sea of heads donning every inch. Cape Town reminded me so much of America it was scary. The only real difference were the accents and occasionally someone would throw out a vibe that was typically Afrikan but other than that, if I’d captured the scene when I’d first arrived and pitted it next to a picture of Fat Tuesday, NOLA style, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Even the Long Street architecture was reminiscent of New Orleans.
I was unexpectedly hit with a wave of homesickness in the moment and sidled closer to Ian as we meandered our way through the crowds. I didn’t know how you could miss a place that utterly defined a horrific life but there you had it. I was overwhelmed with a need to sleep in my bed, amongst my down pillows and Frette sheets. To have Margarite bring me my breakfast in bed. To have Katy, Peter and Gillian over for massage, hair, nails and makeup.
“Do you miss Mandisa?” Ian asked me, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I asked, shame heating my chest.
“You looked sad for a minute there. Do you miss her?”