Love on the Menu

by Lerato Matsaneng

  Dedications

  To my loving grandparents, who after fifty-four years of marriage still perfectly embody true love

  Chapter 1

  1

  It was a typical Friday afternoon deadline at the Daily Mirror. The editorial team was putting the Saturday paper to bed and the entire newsroom was abuzz with activity. Editors were demanding their copy from journalists who were still frantically trying to get their sources to confirm their information.

  Entertainment reporter Lebo Mokoena found these anxious attempts to meet deadlines rather amusing. Her colleagues were all in a panic because they were always late to deliver, even though everybody at the paper knew perfectly well that the first deadline of the day was 2pm.

  To avoid all the deadline hustle and bustle Lebo always set her personal deadline at 12:30pm. That way she was never subjected to the often humiliating wrath of jittery editors and the even more stressed subeditors. She had built up good relationships with many celebrities and their managers, which meant she often didn’t have to search for stories – her contacts gave her leads on most of them.

  Having been a journalist at the Daily Mirror for three years, Lebo had by now fallen out of love with the job and the industry. She felt that she was beyond the mundane nine-to-five routine and reporting on celebrities’ lifestyles.

  Lebo had ambitions of being a successful businesswoman and starting her own catering company. Over the past year this ambition had grown to a passion that had become more and more insistent, and she had approached her mother, MaMokoena, and her aunt, MaMofokeng, about the idea. The three of them had done a few catering jobs in their neighbourhood and were now ready for the big time, as Lebo’s mother often put it.

  MaMokoena was the elder of the two sisters, who lived only a few streets apart. They were both teachers, and although they worked at different schools, they were inseparable. The sisters would spend their afternoons talking and drinking tea while watching their favourite soapies.

  MaMokoena and Lebo’s father had been married for twenty-five years and were entirely devoted to each other. Their marriage had survived a number of challenges, including Lebo’s father being unemployed for two years while she was in high school. However, they had worked through their challenges and managed to give Lebo and her younger sister, Dineo, a good life.

  MaMofokeng and her husband also had two daughters around the same ages as Lebo and her sister. The two families shared a special bond and often spent time together, especially on birthdays, during the festive season and over long weekends.

  Lebo had spoken to a few friends and asked them to look out for opportunities for her. Being an entertainment reporter meant she had very little contact with the corporate world. She couldn’t wait to have her own premises, website, business card and clients – just thinking about that made her smile. But until such time as that became a reality, she was stuck in this office, reporting on the ups and downs of celebrities.

  On this particular Friday Lebo browsed aimlessly on her computer as she waited for her colleagues and friends Bongi, a feature writer, and Rumbi, a business reporter, to finish filing their stories so they could go for their Freedom Friday drinks, as they called them. Lebo was planning to head down south to Sebokeng afterwards, to visit her family for the weekend.

  Tired of the waiting, she walked across the office to where Rumbi was sitting.

  “Hey, ngwanana, will I be unwinding with a chilled strawberry daiquiri in my hand any time soon? I’m quite thirsty, phela – it’s Freedom Friday,” complained Lebo.

  “I’m almost done, so we’ll leave soon enough,” Rumbi chuckled and continued typing her story. “Or how about you collect your things from your flat and we meet you at Mimmos? Then you can head home from there,” Rumbi added in that older-sister tone she often used when speaking to Lebo.

  “Okay, let me do that. But I’m giving you girls only thirty minutes, then I’m starting without you,” Lebo threatened.

  She headed back to her side of the open-plan office and started clearing her desk. Within minutes she had bidden her chaotic office goodbye and was heading for her flat.

  Lebo lived a five-minute walk from the newspaper’s offices in Rosebank. Living so close meant she could leave her little car, an old, bright red Toyota Tazz, at the flat and enjoy a brisk walk to work. It was also very convenient for days when she wanted to sleep in or when she was working the midday to 8pm shift.

  As she walked into the lobby of her block of flats, the message ringtone on her cellphone sounded. She looked and saw that the SMS was from Kgotso, her ex-boyfriend:

  Hi guys and gals, just a reminder about my party 2nyt @ Shisanyama. Bring your fat wallets & those mad dance moves! From Kgotso aka “K-Man”

  Lebo and Kgotso had grown up together. Their mothers had been very close. They went to the same church and served together in the mothers’ union and the church committee. Lebo’s mother was the head of both these committees and Kgotso’s mother the treasurer.

  The two women used to spend hours on end talking about how to make their parish the best Presbyterian church in the country. They would come up with numerous ideas on how to raise money for this and that, enjoying every moment of it.

  Kgotso was a few years older than Lebo and had always treated her like a little sister, but as she matured, he came to regard her more as a friend, and eventually as his girlfriend.

  She had been the perfect partner to him, but he had been less than appreciative and had taken her love for granted. A year into the relationship she had called it quits.

  Lately Kgotso had been trying to rekindle their love. Lebo, however, wasn’t interested in Kgotso’s pathetic attempts at winning her back – she had moved on with her life. But for the sake of peace and their families, she had decided to remain friendly with him. She didn’t want the situation between her and Kgotso to cause any tension between their mothers. So no matter how much of a pain he could sometimes be, Lebo had kept things very civil between her and Kgotso.

  She walked into her spacious bachelor flat. Her bed was in the far right corner, with simple yet classic white linen bedding. The previous weekend she had bought a table and chair and set up a tiny office in the far left corner, opposite the bed.

  The black-and-orange two-seater suede couch, her beloved orange-and-red ottomans and a dozen purple cushions were all placed a safe distance beyond the four bar stools separating the open-plan kitchen from the living-room area. On the kitchen counter she had placed a large transparent glass vase holding two dozen plastic sunflowers.

  Lebo loved her flat. She had been here for several months now and had decorated it to match her personality – colourful and energetic. It was all she could afford, what with her measly journalist’s salary and having to help her parents put her younger sister through university. But Lebo didn’t complain; when she needed extra cash, she often sold some of her freshly baked pastries at the office.

  She quickly packed her weekend bag, closed her curtains and made sure all the windows were locked. She decided to freshen up before leaving the flat. Looking in the mirror, Lebo smiled at the uncanny resemblance she bore to her mother. Like her mother, Lebo was petite, with a light caramel complexion and nicely rounded hips. Her ebony eyes and sparkling smile made her highly admired by young men. When she was done readying herself, she grabbed the bag and headed out of the door.

  * * *

  Lebo and her friends had a quiet afternoon of drinks at Mimmos. They had become regulars at the restaurant and the waiters knew the girls usually enjoyed a round of strawberry daiquiris.

  The three young women laughed about the drama they had left at the office and poked fun at all the oddly dressed passers-by. They had a beautiful friendship and were fast b
ecoming inseparable.

  “Girls, Kgotso has a party tonight and I’m not in the mood to go alone. Anyone keen on coming along?” Lebo put on a puppy face, hoping to manipulate at least one of her friends into joining her.

  “No thanks, choma!” they said in unison and burst out in cheeky laughter. The girls weren’t fond of Kgotso and they made no secret of it. When the three friends had first met, Lebo was just getting out of the relationship with him, and her friends had witnessed all her tears and heartache. So no matter how much she begged, they didn’t share her sentiments about keeping things civil.

  She was going to Sebokeng all by herself, it seemed, so Lebo decided she would just drop in quickly at the party and then disappear without anyone noticing her exit. After she and her friends had finished their drinks, she embarked on the hour-long drive to her home town.

  The party was being held at the local Shisanyama, which had become the place to be for people who were looking to get noticed. Judging by the cars parked outside, all of Sebokeng had come out to have a good time at Kgotso’s party on this chilly night. Lebo walked in and wandered around aimlessly, hoping to bump into a friendly face.

  Kgotso spotted her and came rushing towards her, saying that he had been about to call her and check if she was still coming, because he had a surprise for her.

  “I’m here, surprise ya eng?” Lebo said dryly. She really wasn’t in the mood for his lame attempts at winning her back and wanted to get this party over and done with as fast as possible.

  “I want you to meet someone. He can help you ka business, ya hao. I’m trying to get you on the road to success, baby,” Kgotso said, holding Lebo’s hand as if trying to convince her that he had changed. But she wasn’t buying it.

  “Ke mang this person you want me to meet?”

  “Molemo Tladi, he’s an associate of an old buddy of mine,” said Kgotso.

  Lebo had heard about this man, but she had never met or seen him. Everyone knew him. He was the local “it” guy.

  Molemo was about thirty or so, and from what Lebo had heard, he had businesses in construction and transport. His parents were based in Sebokeng and he had a number of business interests in the area, so he was often spotted there. However, he apparently lived on a fancy golf estate in Johannesburg.

  He drove around in an ivory white Range Rover with tinted windows and personalised Molemo GP numberplates. From what Lebo had heard, Molemo was one of those guys girls threw themselves at, and apparently he was known to be the kind of gentleman who would not let them fall; he caught each and every one of them.

  Lebo didn’t care about these rumours, as long as this man could help her with her business – that was all that mattered.

  “Baby, this is Molemo Tladi. Molemo, meet Lebo. Remember I told you she wanted to start her own business and needed some advice?” Kgotso said as he introduced the two to each other.

  While Kgotso spoke, Lebo just stared at the man she was being introduced to. He was tall, clean-shaven, dark and attractive, exactly the way Lebo liked her men. She was taken aback by just how handsome he was, with big brown eyes and full lips. He was well built, with broad shoulders, and looked very secure in himself with his relaxed demeanour.

  Molemo was wearing a powder-blue sweater with dark blue jeans; he had thrown a black scarf casually around his neck. He wore a black leather biker jacket and a pair of expensive-looking white tackies.

  “Hi, Lebo. Pleasure to meet you.” Molemo looked into her eyes and spoke directly to her.

  Lebo could see why he was so popular with the ladies. He possessed a kind of charm that took great confidence to pull off but drew people to him instantly.

  “How can I be of assistance?” he asked with his hands in his front pockets as he casually pressed the tip of his tongue against his upper lip.

  “Well,” Lebo said, “I want to start my own catering company, so I need guidance from someone in the business world.” She looked enquiringly at Molemo. The more she looked at him, the more handsome he got.

  “The past two years I’ve mentored a few young entrepreneurs on starting their own small businesses. I haven’t done any of that this year, so maybe I can help you. My main operation is construction and engineering, but though there are very few common elements, if any, between construction and catering, the business principles are the same.” He paused to take a sip of his drink, then continued, “I could guide you through the intricacies of establishing your own business, if you’re keen?” He smiled at Lebo as he posed that rhetorical question.

  She smiled back with an accepting nod.

  Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, Molemo pulled out a Louis Vuitton wallet, looked inside and gave Lebo his business card.

  “Thank you, I hope with your help I’ll soon be able to get going with my own business,” she replied. Not having any business cards, Lebo dictated her number to him and he saved it in his BlackBerry.

  “So why catering?” Molemo asked. “Are you a good cook?”

  He seemed genuinely interested in talking to Lebo and finding out more about her business.

  “Ke rata ho pheha and . . .”

  While Lebo was still telling Molemo about her ambitions, they were interrupted by a girl who came galloping along and threw herself at him. True to the rumours, Molemo caught her in his arms.

  “Hey, stranger, haven’t seen you in a while. Where’ve you been hiding?” asked the girl, who was still in Molemo’s grip and completely ignored Lebo’s presence.

  As Molemo got wrapped up in conversation with the girl, Lebo slipped back into the crowd, leaving the two of them to do whatever it was that they did at such places. She hated coming to these local parties – all people did was drink and gossip. It felt a lot like the pretentious celebrity parties she attended regularly as part of her job at the newspaper.

  Lebo walked around the packed venue, looking for a familiar face. She was delighted to spot Brian and Tebogo, friends of Kgotso’s who had become good buddies of hers after she and he had split up. They treated Lebo like one of the boys and loved using her as bait when they wanted to attract girls.

  “Hey, boys, why aren’t you entertaining any beauties, kajeno?”

  It was rare to see Tebogo and Brian at a party without a bevy of girls fluttering around them.

  “Lebo, please meet our dates for this evening: these beautiful ladies dressed in green – Castle Light and Windhoek Lager,” Tebogo said as he pointed to their beer bottles.

  The three of them shared a laugh, then Lebo told the guys about meeting Molemo and how excited she was about him helping her.

  “Watch out, ngwanana. He’s a dodgy one,” Tebogo said in a stern voice.

  He had never spoken to Lebo like that, so it sounded to her as if he really meant what he said. She promised both Tebogo and herself to be careful. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in any drama – this venture was far too important to her. Unlike other girls, she did not intend to be in awe of Molemo and become a bimbo in his presence. This was strictly business, and she would make sure of that.

  Lebo wished the boys good night and headed to her parents’ home.

  Chapter 2

  2

  Lebo looked at the business card on her desk. She read it again, for what could have been the hundredth time. It listed her possible mentor’s contact details:

  Molemo Tladi

  CEO Madumo Construction & Engineering

  Office: +27 (0)861 267 780

  Fax: +27 (0)861 267 779

  Mobile: +27 (0)89 1344 376

  E-mail: molemo.tladi@madumo.co.za

  It had been a few days since she met Molemo, but she had not called him yet. Every time she wanted to do so, she would convince herself that it wasn’t the right moment. Eager as she was to get help with starting her business, she didn’t want to be a bother. She would rather battle it out on her own than feel she was bothering someone.

  “That phone isn’t going to make the call by itself, you know,” Rumbi said,
popping out of thin air and giving Lebo a bit of a fright. Her friend had a habit of surfacing out of nowhere, saying what was needed and returning to whatever she was doing. Lebo found her very odd at times, but loved the honesty with which she approached everything she did and said.

  Rumbi was the more serious and level-headed of her friends, but when she got up to mischief, you would never guess that she was the refined young lady everyone respected so much. She had ambitions of being an HR director for one of the top 40 JSE companies.

  Bongi, on the other hand, was light-hearted and whimsical. She enjoyed relaxing and having a great laugh, even if it was at other people’s expense. She loved life and dreamed of being a fashion magazine editor.

  Lebo was the youngest of the three friends, but the wisest. The other two trusted her always to give them the kind of advice that they could kick themselves for not thinking of. She was extremely honest, sometimes to a fault, and a very proud young woman. She would rather go without than beg.

  The three girls had met when they joined the Daily Mirror. They’d instantly hit it off and had been close ever since.

  “Well,” Bongi added, now also popping up from nowhere, “are you going to call the man? You need his help, so you may as well phone him, otherwise you’ll work in this newsroom for the rest of your life, like those subs.” Bongi pointed at the team of subeditors who were hard at work on the next day’s paper.

  “Come on, Lebo, call him, hle,” Rumbi urged.

  Lebo sighed, then picked up the phone and called Molemo’s office line. She wanted him to see that she was calling about a business matter; calling on his cellphone could make him think that it was private, especially since it was her first call.

  The phone rang twice and a well-modulated woman’s voice answered. “Good afternoon, you are through to Madumo Construction and Engineering. How may I help you?”

  “Hi, may I please speak to Molemo Tladi? It’s Lebo Mokoena calling.” Lebo put on her most refined, formal voice; she was not about to be outdone by the receptionist.