I was about to say something, but once again Elias stood his ground. “I got involved when I saw there might be an issue with the way we were communicating. Mr. Dawit has been working with Aid USA for a long time. I know him from other program visits. Personal relationships are important here.”
Sam had a nasty grin on his face when he spoke again, his eyes intentionally trained away from Elias. “Next time I’m trying to do my work, I’d appreciate if the support staff would keep to their jobs.”
The tension at the table was palpable, and it was harder and harder to not yell at Sam. I almost did, but when I opened my mouth to do so, Elias caught my eye and shook his head. His gaze was weary but surprisingly unaffected, like Sam’s vitriol was more tiring than anything else. I wondered how many times he’d had to deal with people like Sam. Despite the urge to rail at Sam for his stupidity, I acquiesced to Elias’s request and quietly went back to my lunch as everyone else did the same.
When I was done, I looked over at Elias and saw he was limply holding a piece of food in his eating hand as he stared at something in the distance. Of course these things affected him. Of course he felt frustrated. He just couldn’t show it. He had to swallow the words I was sure were trying to crawl out of his throat. Because if he got into something with Sam, he most likely wouldn’t win.
The rest of the afternoon was blessedly uneventful. After the awkwardness of lunch, everyone split off to go do the second part of the village visits, and by the time we got back to the hotel, dusty and exhausted, we all seemed to have shaken off the worst of the day.
As Elias pulled into the hotel, I heard his phone chime a few times with the sound that I recognized as his text messages notifications. I heard Yohannes and Abraham’s phones do the same. Mine was buried somewhere in my bag, so if it was a message from the Addis office, I’d just hear it from them.
It was Friday night and most of us had decided to stay in the field for the weekend instead of doing the five-hour drive to Addis and returning Sunday evening. I was running through the list of shows I’d downloaded on my computer, considering which one to watch after dinner, when Elias called my name. And like it happened whenever I heard the word coming from his lips, my chest lurched.
“What’s up?”
He was grinning and going between typing a message and looking at me. “Tsehay is organizing an outing. There’s a new place that has traditional dancing in town, and she was wondering if you wanted to come.”
I perked up at that, my Netflix downloads instantly forgotten. It’d been a long week and relaxing with a beer or two sounded amazing. “Sure, I’m in.” Then I thought better of it and wondered if Sam would get an invite too. I was not in the mood for his bullshit, though a chance to be with Elias for the evening was pretty damn appealing.
I must’ve been pulling a face, because a moment later I heard a small laugh coming from Elias’s side. “It’s just a few of the Habesha staff coming, and you.”
My mother always told me I would never win at poker. My feelings had a tendency to show up right on my face. So I was sure I was sporting a ridiculous grin when I nodded in answer to Elias. “I’m definitely down. What time?”
Elias looked back at the guys, who were about to jump out, and asked a question before turning to me. “There’s dinner there too, so maybe an hour?”
“See you then,” I said with a smile, and he answered with one just as radiant.
Oh Desta Joy, you are playing with fire, and you don’t even care.
Chapter 6
I walked into the lobby of the hotel in my usual jeans and long-sleeve T-shirt ensemble, since I had not really planned for an evening outing while I was here. At least I was wearing leather Chucks instead of muddy hiking boots. I wasn’t sure what type of dress code we’d have, but I figured that they’d give the farenji a pass for showing up underdressed. I looked around but didn’t see anyone from the group. I was glancing at my watch, wondering if I was late, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Hey.” Elias smelled like bay rum and the beach, as he always did, and I actually had to restrain myself from leaning in to sniff him.
“Hey yourself. Are we the first ones down?”
He shook his head and pointed in the direction of the hotel entrance doors. “Tsehay’s out there getting a taxi. We didn’t want to use the Aid vehicles since we’re not going to be working tonight. Shall we?”
The question was delivered with a wave of his hand and a very mischievous smile. And he looked so good. Also in jeans, but on his feet he had his black Birkens. I’d noticed those were his evening footwear of choice here in Awassa, where the nights were definitely warmer than in Addis. His shirt was a traditional Ethiopian tunic—white with black, red, green, and yellow embroidery on the collar, hem, and sleeves. Like always, his curls sprung in every direction. It was hard to focus with him this close, but somewhere in the recesses of my mind I knew he was probably waiting for a response that wasn’t a moan or me pawing at his chest.
“Sure, let’s go.”
I swallowed hard as he smiled at me, leading the way outside. Sometimes I felt like Elias had to think I was a weirdo, because every once in a while I’d catch him giving me a look
