Espresso and Gist! Dinner...or Something More? : Lara’s Office Diaries (Ep. 5)

Lara's first official dinner outing with her boss started with her standing outside a boutique like a JAMB candidate waiting for a miracle. If anyone has told her this was how this scene was going to play out, she wouldn't have believed it. But there she was. Sweaty palms. Beating heart. And a brown envelope that clearly held the biggest wahala of her week.

She picked up the dress. Peach. Soft. Flowing at the hem and tied at the shoulders with delicate ribbons that made her look like the gentle heroine of a K-drama—just with more Lagos traffic experience.

“Okay then,” she muttered, holding it up in front of the mirror. “Tonight, we pretend we were born for this.”

By 7 PM, she was outside the hotel restaurant, wondering if she’d somehow entered a rom-com and forgotten her lines.

Then she walked in and spotted him almost instantly. His presence filled the entire restaurant, and her stomach started doing that butterfly thing it had grown very used to—whenever he was involved.

Mr. Adeyemi. Olajuwon. The man, the myth, the coffee tyrant. In a fitted black suit that could silence an entire boardroom. His eyes landed on her, and for one delicious, awkward moment, he stared.

You clean up well,” he said when she crossed the room to take a seat across him.

Lara blinked. “Thanks. You too... I guess.”

She mentally slapped herself. You guess? Girl please!

The dinner wasn’t so bad. Okay, maybe she actually wanted to eat more than she was served and the waiter poured wine like he was just hired this evening, but the conversation?

Surprisingly… easy.

They talked. About Lagos traffic. His evil gym trainer. Her NYSC camping disaster. They even laughed at Tope's deodorant comment from earlier.

Then the moment slowed.

He looked at her. She looked back. And suddenly the sound in the restaurant faded into a light hum.

“You’re not what I expected,” he said, voice lower now. Dangerously low. “You’re… interesting.”

“Thank you?” she smiled. “I think.”

Silence.

His hand brushed against hers on the table. Just lightly. Not intentional. Not loud. But definitely there.

Lara coughed. “So… is this part of my job description?”

He smiled. “Maybe. You’re the one who keeps showing up even after broken cups and bleeding thumbs.”

“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, “as if you don’t secretly enjoy all the chaos.”

He didn’t reply. He just watched her.

And maybe, just maybe, something flickered between them. Not fireworks. Not full-blown love story. But a spark. Small. Barely there. But warm enough to notice.

The drive back to her apartment was quiet.

He didn’t try anything.

She didn’t say much.

But just before she got out of the car, he called out to her.

“Lara.”

She turned.

“Tomorrow morning… espresso. Two shots. Sweet this time.”

She grinned. “You want sugar in your coffee now?”

“No. Just wondering if you’ll finally get it right.”

She opened the door, one foot out.

“Maybe,” she said, “if you finally admit this dinner wasn’t strictly business.”

And just like that, she stepped out.

No goodnight. No drama.

But if you looked closely… very closely… you’d have seen the smile tugging at his lips as he drove away. And Lara grabbing on to her doorknob clutching at her purse a bit too tightly, cheeks on fire and all.