She wasn’t expecting Latin music at Afrikiko, but apparently Saturday was Latin night. Who knew there was such a thing in Ghana? Emma wasn’t used to it—and certainly not at that earsplitting volume. She could hear some similarities of the music to traditional Ghanaian highlife—the type her grandparents listened to, not the new stuff. Chairs and tables were arranged around a slightly elevated wood stage where couples danced away. It was obvious who the regulars were. They twirled and whirled in dazzling choreographic displays of agility that amazed Emma. Both she and Courage ordered nonalcoholic drinks. When they were through with the first round, Courage said, “Let’s dance.”

Emma opened her mouth to decline, but before she could say a word, Courage had her on her feet and they were nudging their way onto the crowded stage. They found a space, and Courage began to teach Emma to tango. She managed to make out his shouted instructions above the music.

At first, she was awful and got frustrated quickly by her clumsiness, but he was patient with her, and when she finally made her first turn, she found it exhilarating. After two numbers, she was dripping with sweat from her efforts while Courage was dry as a bone. They stopped for another drink and Courage ordered them a meal—goat kebabs for himself and Thai fried rice for Emma. She couldn’t help noticing his wallet stuffed tight with 50-cedi bills. Where was all this money coming from, or was he just trying to impress her?

After a couple of hours at Afrikiko, Courage took Emma to an ice cream parlor on Oxford Street in Osu. They sat outside on the open patio. The night was still humid, but it had cooled off a little. The club across the street was playing music, but not too loud that they couldn’t talk at normal levels. Emma’s ears were ringing slightly from Afrikiko, and she was thankful for the relative quiet.

“So why don’t you have a boyfriend?” Courage said, licking the rim of his strawberry cone.

She spluttered, taken by surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “Attractive woman like you—why should you not have a man?”

“I’m not sure I’m that attractive,” she said.

“You are a whole lot lovelier than you realize. And anyway, you’re supposed to say thank you, not try and reverse the compliment.”

“You’re right,” she said. “Bad habit. Thank you very much.”

“You are welcome.” He smiled. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

Emma shrugged. “Basically, I don’t know.”

“Really,” he said, apparently not satisfied with her response.

“Now it’s your turn,” Emma said, adopting his tactics. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

He laughed, showing his nice set of teeth. “She’s now my ex—over a year now. I’ve just been dating, but I’d like to settle down sometime soon.”