His head tilted. “Ahh, but the difference is I only meet people as they are passing through. And they usually learn nothing about me when they are here. I never have to let others in, but I am welcomed into their lives.” He leaned close, conspiratorially. “In this industry, you learn that the listeners are as important as the talkers. Even more important.”
Jana smiled, swirling the drink in her hand. “I heard a bartender here knew John Wayne. I assume that wasn’t you,” she said. Ayubu looked to be about Jana’s age.
He chuckled. “I sometimes feel like an old man, but I’m notthatold. That is my uncle…He does still work here—sometimes. But not often—he is a relic of the past. Have you seenHatari!? The movie that was filmed in the area?”
When Jana said she hadn’t, that prompted a conversation with Ayubu, who turned out to be a major film buff, about Hollywood-produced films set in East Africa and how those movies brought a lot of tourism dollars and recognition to the area but also gave Westerners a false idea of Africa. “It’s unfortunate that the most famous film to come from East Africa is about a white woman named Karen,” Ayubu said.
“Out of Africa, you mean,” Jana said. It had been years since she’d seen it, but she remembered watching the movie with her father as a kid. “It would be amazing if a local filmmaker could make something that would get that kind of reach.”
Which got them talking about the African film industry and stories being told through the African lens instead of the white colonialist one. It was fascinating. Jana forgot she was in such a bad mood.
“They should film a remake ofHatari!right here in this hotel,” Ayubu said. “All these little details in design should be seen by the world, don’t you think?”
Jana smiled in agreement.
“You don’t seem very enthusiastic. Are you not having fun at Hatari?”
“Oh, no. I am definitely enjoying myself. This place…and the hospitality are amazing.” She looked over at the wedding party. “I’m just not someone anyone would describe as…fun.”
Ayubu made a disparaging sound. “People aren’t fun or not fun. Moments are fun. Experiences are fun. Places. Some people adapt to those moments better than others—that’s all. I’m sure when you are in your moment, people have a lot of fun with you.” He shrugged. “And anyway, give me intelligence, a good conscience, and excellent conversation over fun any day. Even thosefunpeople need someone thoughtful to remind them of that sometimes.” He glanced at something over Jana’s head for a second. “I suspect your friends are drawn to you for a reason.” He smiled, then spoke to a person behind Jana. “Another beer, my friend?” Jana turned to see who it was. Anil, of course.
Anil nodded. “Asante,” he said when Ayubu handed him a glass moments later.
“Karibu. And”—he looked at Jana—“karibu to you, too. Nina furaha kukutana, my friend. I am very glad to have met you. Talking with you has beenfun.” He smiled widely, then walked away, whistling.
Anil looked at Jana. “You okay?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she said. “Just talking to the bartender.” She chuckled as she realized that she could tick another item off her list. She’d just chatted with a stranger.
“Needed to escape the crowd, did you?” Anil sat on the barstool next to her. Now this was the second time he’d said that. Maybe itwaspassive aggression. Or maybe support. Jana wished she understood people better. Anilhadrescued her from a crowd at the wedding ceremony. That was four hotels ago now. It was true what she’d told Ayubu—this trip had felt like a lifetime.
A lifetime that was no longer than her relationship with Anil in the first place. They’d been together for two weeks then. And her entire life had been turned on its axis. And now, almost five years later, they were together for two weeks again.
“Why do you people make me feel terrible for not thriving in groups?”
He shook his head. “You people…Who are you talking about?”
She took a sip of her drink before answering. “You. Extroverts. People who know how to talk to others.”
Anil chuckled as he set his beer down. “Ah. Well, right now I feel like I don’t have the faintest idea of how to talk to a particular person.”
Jana put her glass down. He meant her. “We keep going in circles, Anil. You said I was hot and cold, but you’ve barely acknowledged my existence since we woke up in that tent together. Except to throw some passive-aggressive nonsense at me. Why are we even bothering to fix this between us? We can keep going the way things were before. Maybe have lunch together with Imani once a month so she thinks we get along. There is no need to force something that won’t work.”
He stared at her for several long seconds, then looked in front of him at the bottles stacked behind the bar. “My ego was bruised. I saw the look of disgust on your face when you left the tent. You bolted out of there as fast as you could.”
That wasn’t because shehatedhim. It was because seeing him braid Imani’s hair had made her want himso muchthat she couldn’t think straight. Things were easier when they barely saw each other.
She turned away from him, also staring straight in front of her. “If your precious ego is so easily bruised when you’re around me, then why are you here? Go sit with the others. Unless there is something else you’d like to say?”
“Yes. I wanted to tell you my flight out of Africa is tomorrow evening,” he said, his voice flat. “I know you like to keep tabs on me all the time. I have a three-hour stopover in London, then I’ll be in D.C. I’ll be staying with my parents for two weeks while working on the start-up for the new foundation, then I’ll be back in Toronto in time for Rohan and Kamila’s Toronto wedding reception, and for my week with Imani.” He stood, picking up his beer. “I’m sure you won’t be home when I come to pick her up. And I’m sure you’ll make yourself scarce when I bring her back a week later. You won’t have to see me for any prolonged period of time again.”
He walked right outside instead of heading to the other room where the rest of the party was. She watched him go.
Chapter 21
He was leaving Tanzania the next day. And she was leaving the day after that. Everything would go back to how it was before. That’s what Jana wanted. To barely see Anil anymore. To barely be in each other’s lives.
But wait. What about the Disney trip? Was he implying he didn’t want to go anymore? And what about Dr. Lopez—was Anil angry enough to tell him that the Jana on this trip wasn’t real and that she and Anil had never been friends? That she wasn’tvibrant? Jana drained her glass in one gulp, then rushed out after Anil.
