*Delores Amelia Brown*

The next day.

"Nothing."

Abandoning the third clothing rack, I began rifling through the last one in the shop.

It was about twenty minutes past seven in the morning. I was probably the only journalist awake at this time after last night's welcome party. Despite a good night's rest, I just couldn't sleep in like the others, mostly because of the clumsy accident that had happened the night before.

Even though Kwame gave me the chance to clear out the stain, I couldn't ignore that pang of guilt lingering in my system, especially when I knew that his luggage was missing. That guilt was why I was currently burrowing through rows of culturally patterned clothes in the hotel's mini boutique.

I paused to throw a couple of my braids over my shoulder before continuing my search. The small-scale store had tons of African print outfits in various sizes, but I just couldn't find anything that suited Kwame's style.

Sure, I had just met him and couldn't possibly tell what his style was, but sometimes you can identify someone's sense of fashion from their personality. For example, this bright purple and yellow dashiki patterned top I had just pulled off the rack was a perfect match for Arturo's bubbly nature. But for someone who had served in the military, Kwame wouldn't be caught dead in this outfit.

Sighing, I shoved the top back in line.

Why are you fussing over finding the perfect outfit? You just have to get him one shirt. Are you sure you're only doing this out of guilt, or is there something else? My subconscious remarked with a snarky grin.

"There's nothing else," I mumbled under my breath. Yeah, I was attracted to Kwame at some point in time, but those feelings were non-existent now. I came here to work. Apart from friendship, there couldn't be anything else between us, and I intended to keep it that way for the entirety of the trip.

Pushing through the rack one final time, I was ready to give up when my eyes landed on a white sleeveless shirt with an embroidered African symbol in the centre. The same colour of thread outlining the symbol was used to stitch the hems of the shirt, creating a unique sense of uniformity. I could picture Kwame in this outfit, and the thought carried me to the cashier.

I stepped out of the boutique with the newly purchased shirt, packaged in a brown paper bag. It was a bright, sunny morning with the rhythmic sound of waves lapping at the shore. Clouds soaked in golden rays of sunlight occupied a sea-blue canvas, and I had a sudden urge to photograph it all. Reprimanding myself for not taking my camera with me, I continued my walk back to the main hotel. Breakfast was at 8:30 am and I wanted to give Kwame his shirt before coming back down to eat with Dayton. I asked for his room number at the front desk and was just about to head up when a familiar voice called out my name.

"Ms. Brown!" Didi covered the distance between us with a few strides. "Just the person I wanted to see. I have some good news for you. I just got off the phone with the manager of AlphaKing Airlines. They located your missing luggage on a flight to Côte d'Ivoire and have transported it back to the baggage office at the airport. I'm arranging for a hotel van to take you, Ms. Michaelson, and Mr. Asante to the airport for identification and collection."

"That's great!" It was a relief they had found our luggage because I had no idea what I was going to wear for tonight's festivities. "When is the van going to be here?"

"At ten. I was about to leave that message at the front desk for you guys."

"Oh, no need to; I'll personally inform the others. I'm meeting Dayton in a while for breakfast, and I was just on my way to see Kwame."

Didi clasped his hands in satisfaction. "Ah, then that settles it. Thank you so much, Ms. Brown, for your patience. On behalf of the airline and the festival organisers, I sincerely apologise for any inconveniences this may have caused."

"Nah, don't worry about it. You guys found our stuff in less than twenty-four hours, so it's no biggie." I gave him a soft pat on the shoulder. "I'll see you later, Didi."

"Sure."

I approached the elevator and pressed the ground floor button. In a matter of seconds, the metallic doors whooshed open. I stepped in, hit the button for the fifth floor, and patiently began my ascent.

A blurred-out reflection of my figure in the metallic walls caused me to reassess my only other choice of clothing, apart from the black one-shoulder dress I had worn last night. Today, I wore a simple pair of dark blue jean shorts, a striped yellow blouse, and some black sandals. It was a casual and modest outfit, but it made me feel a bit more confident.

Arriving on the fifth floor, I walked past a few hotel attendants delivering room service. Room 502 was his, and as I followed the golden-numbered plaques, I pretended not to feel the growing moisture in my hands because I wasn't anxious at all, not even a little bit.

My feet came to a halt right in front of room 502. Setting the paper bag down, I brushed away the sweat on my hands and sent a rapid knock through the door.

No response.

Thinking he hadn't heard it, I knocked a little bit harder a second time and waited.

Still no reply.

"Has he stepped out?" I wondered, and since I had no way of telling, I chose to knock a third time just to confirm.

My knuckles rapped hard on the smooth surface until it suddenly gave way.

"What!" Kwame yelled, startling both of us in the process.

"Umm..." I swallowed.

"De-Delores." His sleepy eyes widened, and then he rubbed a hand over his face. "Shit, I'm... I'm so sorry. I just woke up and..."

The rest refused to reach my ears because the sight before me was just... hypnotic. A fully sculpted chest with ripped muscles dipped into one of those taut V's, which was partly concealed by the sweatpants he wore. But it wasn't enough to stop me from wondering what was down there. Just thinking about it made my toes curl in delight and my insides—

"Delores?"

"Yes! Oh uh, dddon't don't worry about it." I forced myself out of the admiration stupor, even though my stutters betrayed me. "I-it's-it's my fault. I should've known you wouldn't be up this early... not after last night's party."

"Yeah..." His eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as he nodded. "Is everything ok? Do you need something or..."

"Oh no, I actually came up here to give you this." I picked up the brown paper bag. "It's a little something to make up for the shirt I ruined last night."

Kwame received the bag and took a peek inside. "You didn't have to, you know."

"Yeah, but I wanted to. With the missing luggage and everything, I just thought it would be nice to get you a new shirt."

His thin lips pushed up into a warm smile. "Well, thanks. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"Don't mention it." In an attempt to find something to do with my hands, I slid them into the back pockets of my jeans.

We stared at each other, entrapped in whatever spell he had cast over us until my phone broke through with a notification.

Dayton: Hey, just stopped by your room. No reply.

Heading down to the restaurant with a strange craving for coffee. 😋☕

"Um, I've gotta go. I'm meeting Dayton downstairs for breakfast. You're..." I subtly cleared my throat. "You're welcome to join us... if you want."

"Sure. I'm down." His grin expanded, and it sent a flush of heat up my face.

"Gr-great. I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah."

Before the butterflies could tempt me into doing something stupid, like running my hands over his rock-hard abs, I backed away from his door and headed down the corridor, unable to wipe the blissful smile off my face.

The image of his ripped bod from years of military training travelled with me through the elevator. I stared down at my hands, imagining what it would have felt like if I had just gathered the courage to touch him, feel those crevices of pure manly strength under my fingertips. The thought made my nipples harden and my womanhood clench.

Just seeing him half-naked had turned me on so much that I had to lean against the metallic wall for support. I thanked my lucky stars that I was the only one in the elevator. It would've been damn awkward if someone else was in here, and as the metallic box neared the ground floor, I straightened myself and pushed my braids back. No one could see me like this.

The elevator doors pinged open, and I stepped out, walking underneath the third archway that led to the restaurant.

Dayton occupied a table on the furthest end of the hall, close to one of the full-length windows that poured out endless golden rays of light. She looked like an angel, basking in a halo while sipping on a dainty cup of coffee.

"I see you couldn't keep those coffee cravings at bay," I said, pulling out a chair at the table.

"Mh, you don't know the half of it," Dayton smiled as she set her cup down. "Where were you off to so early?"

"Nowhere in particular. I just... stepped out for a while." The lie rolled off my tongue with a hint of hesitation I hoped she wouldn't pick up.

She, however, did, because her next utterance began in a teasing tone. "Really? Are you sure it didn't have anything to do with Kwame?"

"No!" I replied in a heartbeat. "Why would you even think that?"

"Oh, c'mon, Delores. I sat next to you guys the entire night. I had a front-row seat to all the flying sparks and shooting stars. You like him, and if you asked me, I think you couldn't have fallen for anyone better."

"Fallen?" The word made my heart jump. "Dayton, you've got it all wrong. I haven't fallen for anyone, especially not Kwame." And as I spoke, my resolution to offer nothing but friendship was solidly reinforced. Nothing could break through those walls, not even good-looking guys with the body of Adonis.

"Morning ladies." Orell Smith sauntered past our table with another of his famous cocky smirks.

"What an asshole," Dayton mumbled. "Do you know that last night, this guy hit on every single lady at the welcome party, even the married ones?"

I scoffed, "Not surprised. The first time I met him, I knew he was trouble."

"I know, right? He's probably one of those guys who like to have a hook-up in every country they visit."

My head shifted to the side, catching Orell's eyes on me before he turned, feigning interest in whatever the lanky girl beside him was blabbering about. I hadn't even had a full conversation with him, yet the guy reminded me so much of my ex, Cas, who was the very definition of an arrogant, egocentric bastard.

Dayton's phone sent a buzz through our table, and she picked it up. "Oh, Arturo is here. I hope you don't mind, I invited him to have breakfast with us."

"Sure, no problem." I flagged down a waitress for some orange juice, while Dayton asked for a coffee refill.

It didn't take long for Arturo to locate our table, but I didn't expect him to arrive with Kwame trailing right behind him. Honestly, the guy must've cast some mesmerising spell over me because I could barely take my eyes off him as he approached, wearing the African print shirt I had gifted him. It looked regal on him and showed off those glorious dark-skinned biceps. Before he could catch me staring, I quickly grabbed my glass of orange juice and took a large sip.

"Good morning, my beautiful female companions!" Arturo called out, accidentally drawing a few heads to our table.

"Tone it down, bro." Kwame gave his friend a gentle pat on the back, then pulled out the empty chair next to me. "Hi." His lips pulled into a smile I could not resist.

"Hey."

"How was your night?" Arturo settled down beside Dayton.

"Serenely satisfying, thanks for asking," came my friend's reply. "Oh Kwame, I love your shirt. You're feeling the Ghanaian cultural theme, huh."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "But...this was actually a gift from Delores. I would never have picked something this classy."

"You don't say." Dayton shot me another of her teasing smirks, and I had to kick her under the table to wipe it off her face.

"Can we order something now, please?" I quizzed, and Arturo signalled a waiter.

All four of us spent the next ten minutes browsing through the menu, and when our orders finally arrived, we found ourselves swimming in the warmth of some tasty local breakfast staples.

Kwame and I went for 'waakye' which was a brown-coloured rice meal made with a mixture of black-eyed beans, topped with salad, spaghetti, cassava flakes (gari), a hard-boiled egg and huge chunks of meat. Arturo and Dayton, on the other hand, opted for a bowl of 'Hausa koko,' a spicy millet porridge with 'bofrot' as a side complement. Honestly, watching them bite into those huge fried dough balls made me wish I had ordered that, but I took comfort in the fact that I still had six more days to try all the local dishes before heading back to New York.

"What time is it?" Arturo asked after swallowing down the last bit of his breakfast.

"9:39," Kwame replied, stealing a glance at the Rolex on his wrist.

"Mh. Dayton." He quickly wiped his mouth with the napkin on his lap. "We've gotta go if we want those pics before the tour this afternoon."

"Oh yeah, right." My friend also grabbed her napkin.

"Woah, wait, where are you guys off to?" Kwame asked.

Dayton slung her camera bag across her torso. "We're heading into town to see the local fisherfolk in action. We heard they have a unique way of carrying out their job."

"Wait, you can't leave," I protested. "I met Didi this morning at the front desk, and he said our missing luggage has been found. He's arranged for a van to take us to the airport for identification and collection."

"Ah, crud," Dayton mumbled, brushing a couple of blond strands out of her face.

"You can stay and go with them," Arturo told her. "I can manage fine on my own."

"No, no. I really want to come with you. But I can't... unless..." A thoughtful look touched her features, then Dayton abruptly turned to me. "Delores..." Her lips pulled into a deep pout. "Please be a darling and pick up my luggage for me."

My eyebrows flew up. "What? No! What if I end up picki-"

"Oh, please, please, please, please!" She pulled me into a hug. "It's just one red suitcase with an Avengers sticker on it. Trust me, you won't miss it."

"No, Dayton-"

"And..." She pressed on, denying me the chance to finish my complaint. "This will be a perfect opportunity to spend some alone time with you-know-who." As she whispered that last part in my ears, I felt the heat crawl up to my cheeks.

"C'mon, it will be the perfect opportunity for the two of you to get to know each other." My friend smiled, so happy to be playing matchmaker.

Although I didn't want to admit it, part of me wanted to know more about the hunk sitting next to me, even if it was just on a friendship basis.

"What are you two whispering about?" Kwame sent a curious glance our way as he wiped his thin lips with a napkin.

"Nothing!" Dayton and I responded at the same time, and then she gave out a chuckle and set me free from her tight embrace. "We'll see you guys later."

"Dayton!" I attempted to grab her arm, but she was fast enough to pull away and run past Arturo.

"Byeee!" My blond friend tossed the response over her shoulder as Arturo dashed after her.

I shook my head and watched them go.

*****