After a client event on Ozumba Mbadiwe, Sade asked Temi to follow her upstairs.
The rooftop overlooked the harbour. From that height, Lagos looked almost peaceful.
They had both been in heels since morning. Sade removed hers first.
Temi looked at her.
“Are we allowed to do that here?”
“Who will arrest me?”
Temi laughed and removed hers too.
For a while, they stood near the railing without talking.
Then Sade asked, “How are you finding Pinnacle?”
Temi looked at her.
“You want the office answer?”
“No.”
“I'm tired.”
“How tired?”
Temi thought about it.
“The kind sleep is not fixing.”
Sade nodded as though she understood exactly what that meant.
“You've been there five years,” Temi said. “How?”
Sade smiled.
“When I joined, I said two years.”
“What happened?”
“Two became three because I was waiting for the right time. Three became four because I had big accounts and didn't want to leave in the middle.”
“And four became five?”
Sade looked towards the water.
“I stopped believing I could do better.”
Temi turned towards her.
There was no self-pity in Sade's voice. That somehow made it worse.
“That is what Pinnacle cost me,” she said. “Not just money. After a while, I started thinking maybe this was the best I could get.”
Temi didn't know what to say.
“I started therapy in September. My therapist asked me what I would tell a younger woman if she described my exact situation.”
Temi already knew the answer.
“Leave?”
Sade laughed softly. “Immediately.”
A breeze moved across the rooftop, carrying the warm scent of Sade's Babycat with it.
“I'm not telling you to resign tomorrow,” she continued. “I don't know your finances. But watch the time.”
Temi nodded.
Then Sade looked at her.
“I saw the Hartfield deck.”
Temi's expression changed.
“I know who wrote it.”
For a second, Temi couldn't speak.
It wasn't that Sade knew.
It was hearing someone say it.
Someone had seen her.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Sade nodded.
“Don't stay anywhere long enough to forget what you're worth.”