Since the evening they were introduced to each other, he had often found himself wondering about her. She seemed quite comfortable in her own skin and had a cheeky manner about her that he liked. He couldn’t wait to get to know her better.
* * *
Later that evening Lebo was feeling awful about the events of earlier that day. First she was late for her meeting with Molemo and then she had to leave early to double-check the spelling of the surname of some socialite who was being accused of theft by her record-producer sugar daddy. It was on days like these that Lebo really hated her job.
She decided to SMS Molemo to apologise again:
Hi, thanks for the reading material. My apologies for the inconvenience this afternoon. Good night. Lebo
A few moments later she received a message on her phone:
Don’t worry, I understand. How about we spend next Saturday afternoon together? We can go through your questions and get to know each other.
Lebo reread the SMS twice before thinking up a reply. It sounded suspiciously as if Molemo was asking her out on a date.
* * *
By the Saturday Lebo could hardly contain her excitement. She was eager to spend time with Molemo and get to know him better. Since their last meeting the two of them had spoken on the phone a few times, exchanging pleasantries and chatting about how their days had been.
Molemo picked her up promptly at midday. He was looking relaxed in a pair of blue jeans, a white sweater and tackies. She was wearing a sweater stretching below her buttocks, her thick leggings and a pair of pumps, all in black, with her favourite chunky gold accessories. With her handbag and the folder with the business material in tow she made her way to his Range Rover.
The two drove to Moyo at Zoo Lake for lunch. When they arrived at the door, the waiters smiled warmly at Molemo.
“Afternoon, Mr Tladi, good to see you again. Please come right this way,” the one said and showed them to their table.
“So you’re a regular,” Lebo remarked.
“Not really. But I enjoy their food, and my friends and I come here once in a while after a game of golf.”
They were given a table in the garden section of the restaurant. It was a warm early winter’s day, with the sun shining brightly. They ordered their drinks and meal before the waiter walked away.
“So, Miss Mokoena, I see you have the folder I gave you,” Molemo said with an amused smile. “What are your thoughts on the material?”
“It was a lot to digest, if you’ll pardon the pun.”
They exchanged a smile before Lebo continued.
“I think for now my main concern is how we’re going to make the catering business work with no capital. We need a lot of equipment like pots, cutlery, crockery and so on – and for that we need money.” Lebo sounded very concerned.
“Well, in your industry you’re fortunate in that you can charge an upfront deposit,” Molemo comforted her. “With that you can hire the equipment you need. When you get the rest of your fee, you can gradually start buying your own equipment and also put aside some money for saving, which is very important for any business. If you do that with every project, you’ll need to hire less and less equipment and thus save more money.”
Lebo was impressed with the answer. It made a lot of sense and seemed very practical.
Later, while enjoying lunch, they talked about the most important aspects of putting together a business plan. Lebo told Molemo that she did not want to borrow any money and he told her how best she could position the company in order to generate an income. The more they talked, the more confident and excited Lebo became about her plans.
By the time they had finished their meal, Lebo had taken pages of notes on all the advice Molemo had given her. He suggested they take a walk around the park to help digest their grilled chicken, baked potatoes and roasted vegetables.
“Lead the way,” Lebo said, pointing at the door.
They left the restaurant and walked past the colourful craft market to the serene park in a comfortable silence.
“May I ask you something?” Lebo finally broke the silence.
“You already have. That was a question,” Molemo replied.
“Ha-ha, other than that,” she smirked.
He nodded and Lebo forged ahead. “Why did you become a businessman? How did you know that was what you wanted?”
As it happened they were just walking past a bench, and Molemo suggested they sit down.
“Business has always been in my blood; I guess I got it from my father. He started off as a teacher, but he hated working for someone else. So he quit his job and used the pension money paid out to him to buy his first taxi, back in the eighties. He drove it himself and soon there were two, then three and so they kept on multiplying.
“With the money he made my dad bought a butchery and two liquor stores. Then, in the nineties, he ventured into construction and engineering and started Madumo Construction and Engineering. It was a small company, but it’s grown tremendously over the last couple of years.”
“Starting small – that’s a sound business principle,” Lebo remarked.
Molemo nodded and continued, “While I was growing up, my dad always made sure I was involved in the family business. I would drive taxis during school holidays, work at the butchery and deliver alcohol to the local taverns. He mentored me and taught me everything I needed to know. He wanted me to really work for everything I got so that I would appreciate and cherish it more.”
“And after school?” Lebo asked, fascinated by his story.
“I studied engineering and completed several business and construction courses. After graduation I joined my dad at Madumo and had to work my way up in the company – it’s been a very humbling experience.”
“But obviously you like what you do.”
“No, I don’t like it,” he said. “I love it . . . Seeing the ground bare but with endless potential. Then building something which will make other people’s lives better . . . That makes me feel very good and proud.”
Molemo smiled at her, and once again she marvelled at how attractive he was.
“And your mother? Where was she in all this?” Lebo asked curiously.
“She was right there all the way, taking care of the house and us. She’s been running her own dressmaking operation from home for years. My father has always consulted my mother about all the decisions he took in the business, even though she wasn’t directly involved. He has always trusted her wisdom and intuition.”
“Didn’t you and your dad ever fight?” Lebo wanted to know.
“Of course, but my mom would referee everything we disagreed on, and to this day she still does that. She’s been the backbone of our lives, mine and my dad’s. I’d like a wife like that too someday.” Molemo paused briefly, then continued with a light laugh, “Wow, that was quite a mouthful. You’re the first person I’ve ever really talked to about my family.” He looked at Lebo with his big brown eyes and smiled.
“Maybe it’s because I’m a good listener,” she replied, smiling back. “I think you’re lucky to be blessed with such a wonderful family. I’m sure they’re very proud of you.”
Molemo looked almost shy. “Okay, enough of the serious talk. Let’s walk some more.”
As they got up, he said, “May I ask you something for a change?”
“Fire away,” Lebo replied, setting a fast pace.
“Are you dating anyone at the moment?”
“Nope.”
“And why not? You seem sane enough,” Molemo teased.
“Well, let’s just say I’m not very lucky in that department, so I prefer to give it a miss. I choose rather to make the most of my relationships with my sweet but crazy friends and my wonderful family.”
“I see. Well, don’t shy away from love forever. I know for a fact there are still a few good guys out there.”
She avoided replying and said, “I have another question for you.”
“No wonder you’
re a journalist. You’re so inquisitive. But shoot.”
“How fast are you? Let’s see who gets to the lake first, old man.”
Lebo started running as fast as her feet would carry her. Molemo was slow to take off, but soon sped past her. They reached the lake within moments of each other, breathless and panting.
“Wow, you’re fast. Maybe you aren’t such an old man after all,” Lebo teased him, and they shared a laugh.
Molemo looked at his watch. It was 5:30pm and already getting dark. He had to prepare for a presentation early on Monday morning. He hated working during weekends, especially Sundays, because that meant he couldn’t go to church with his beloved mother.
The pair reluctantly walked back to his car.
On the short drive back to her flat they competed to see who had the best voice as they sang along with the radio.
When they were parked outside Lebo’s flat, Molemo switched off the Range Rover and turned to her.
“Thanks for a great afternoon. I had a wonderful time.”
“I should be the one thanking you,” she said. “You’ve helped me tremendously. I really appreciate it and I promise to make you proud.”
Suddenly Molemo looked deep into her eyes and said, “Look, I really enjoy your company and I’d like to spend some time getting to know you better outside of our mentor-mentee relationship.”
“I’d like that too,” Lebo smiled. She got her things together and got out of the car.
Molemo walked her to the gate. “Thanks again. Have a good night.”
“You too,” she replied. “Good luck with that presentation.”
He reached forward and gently pulled Lebo towards him. They shared an intimate hug, and she rested her head against his broad and strong chest. Molemo smelt good and his grip was strong.
The hug lasted long enough for the two of them to know they definitely shared a connection. They let go of each other simultaneously.
Lebo watched as Molemo walked back to his vehicle. She was excited and confused at the same time.
Excited that this attractive man had told her he wanted to get to know her better. And confused for the same reason. He was, after all, the infamous Molemo Tladi.
But so far nothing had indicated that there was any truth in the rumours she had heard about him being a player.
Chapter 4
4
After an eventful Monday at the office, Lebo was finally back at her flat by early evening. She was planning on working on some recipe ideas for Molemo’s event in a few weeks.
While paging through some recipes, she got an SMS:
Evening, angel! What are you up to?
It was Molemo. Lebo was taken aback but excited to hear from him, and bounced on her bed a few times before replying:
Hi there. Just going through some recipes for your big do.
A few moments later Molemo replied:
Need some help?
Lebo said:
Sure!
To which he answered:
Cool. On my way.
She couldn’t believe Molemo was coming to her flat. It was late and she was already in her pyjamas.
She quickly changed, put on a simple tracksuit, combed her hair and tidied her place.
A little later Molemo called to tell her he was outside. Lebo went down to open the gate. She was trembling with excitement at the idea of spending more time with him.
Molemo had a bottle of Johnny Walker Gold and a pack of ice with him. “Hi there, ma’am. Thought I could offer you some company while you slave away,” he teased as he gave her a hug.
He smelled good; his grip was strong yet gentle. Lebo didn’t want him to let go.
“I brought you some nougat. Hope you like it.” Molemo gave her the plastic bag that was in his hand.
Lebo opened the Woolies packet; it was Sally Williams nougat with macadamia nuts. She had enjoyed this only once before, at a function, but had never got around to buying it for herself. It was a bit expensive and each time she wanted to buy a slab, there was something else that seemed so much more important, like getting Dineo new clothes or even airtime.
The pair made their way to Lebo’s third-floor flat.
“A humble yet colourful home you have here,” Molemo remarked as he walked in.
Lebo couldn’t decide whether he was being nice or sarcastic. She had noticed that about him: he was full of witty, ironic little remarks, just like she herself was. She liked that.
Molemo made his way through the cupboards, looking for glasses, and then offered a very reluctant Lebo some whisky. She drank alcohol now and then, but always stayed clear of anything she deemed to be strong spirits. And here a really sexy man, whom she was attracted to, was offering her a glass of whisky in her own kitchen.
She wanted to be a sport, so she took the drink.
The taste was awful. It was too strong and burnt her throat. “This is horrible,” she remarked. “Shouldn’t we mix it with a Coke or something?”
“Come on, it was only one sip. Let it grow on you. It’s an acquired taste,” he said. “By the way, you never dilute quality – and this, my dear, is quality.”
Molemo walked around the flat, inspecting it. “I see you read a lot.”
“It’s a wonderful way to relax. You should try it.”
“No, thank you, I read enough newspapers and business magazines.”
“Here.” Lebo handed him a book by Sidney Poitier titled The Measure of a Man. “He’s a very good writer. Read this and tell me what you think.”
Molemo reached for the book, looked at its back cover and decided to give it a try.
The two made themselves comfortable on the carpet with the whisky and nougat, leaning against the sofa. Lebo was taking the whisky one sip at a time, hoping to acquire the taste Molemo was talking about.
They listened to the radio and chatted about their demanding work schedules and life in general. Lebo loved Molemo’s laugh; it was infectious. Each time he laughed, his eyes were half closed; he leaned his head back and let the laughter come from the pit of his stomach. She wanted to keep him laughing. This way he seemed like just an ordinary, pleasant person and not the boss of a top business or the arrogant player everyone made him out to be.
After what felt like forever but also just a few seconds, Lebo’s phone rang. It was her neighbour, Portia. She had forgotten the remote control that opened the gate at her office and couldn’t get into the building.
“I’ll be right back,” Lebo told Molemo and went downstairs to open for Portia.
About ten minutes later Lebo came running back to her flat, only to find Molemo had dozed off, still leaning against the sofa where she had left him. She stared at this man who looked so peaceful and lay so comfortably in her home.
It was nearly 2am and Lebo was tired too. She let Molemo sleep some more while preparing her bed and changing back into her pyjamas.
Then she came back and woke him up. “Hey, it’s two in the morning. Do you want to drive home or sleep here?”
“If I sleep here, where will you sleep?” a groggy and only partially awake Molemo asked.
“In the same bed, but don’t worry, I won’t do anything to you,” Lebo teased.
He chuckled, took off his jacket and allowed her to lead him to her bed. There he promptly got under the covers.
Lebo switched off the lights and joined him.
She kept to her side of the bed, anxious about having Molemo so close to her.
Suddenly he murmured, “Move closer. This place of yours is freezing.” She hesitated, not knowing whether he was serious or joking again, but he edged up close to her. As if they had done this many times before, he put his arms around her and she laid her head on his chest.
Lebo felt safe and warm in his grasp. She let herself be embraced and nurtured in his warmth. He smelt good and felt even better. She wanted this moment to last forever.
* * *
Early the next morning Molemo woke her up; he needed to go
home and get ready for a meeting. Still half asleep, she followed him downstairs.
As they stood at his car, he pulled her towards him and kissed her. His lips took hers into their fullness and he released in her a strong flood of emotion. She was too surprised to kiss him back; she just stood there and let him do to her what he desired. His lips were strong but full of love.
He thanked her for a lovely evening, then got into his vehicle and drove off.
Chapter 5
5
Lebo hated driving in the city centre. The taxis were reckless and the other drivers were always in a panic to get away from them. No wonder people said driving in Johannesburg was like surviving the jungle.
She was on her way to Molemo’s office to meet with their marketing manager and the event planner for the function. It would be their first get-together; they would discuss the theme for the event, as well as how the company wanted to present their brand. Lebo was very excited. This was more exciting than getting the page three lead in the Daily Mirror, which was as good as it got for an entertainment reporter.
She couldn’t believe how fast things had gone with this catering project. Molemo had called her the night before and told her about the meeting this morning. “And remember to bring your A game, because I won’t be there to hold your hand, okay,” he had teased her.
The two of them had become really close since the time he spent the night at her place. They had spoken on the phone daily about just about everything, from their favourite food or music to the best way to put together a company profile.
Lebo loved the fact that Molemo was unlike any other guy she knew. Instead of being intimidated by her ambition and drive, he fuelled it and made her dream even bigger – and of course it didn’t hurt that she was attracted to him as well and knew he felt the same way about her.
Even though they hadn’t discussed the issue, Lebo sensed Molemo’s feelings towards her in every SMS he sent and every phone call they shared. She told herself she should talk to him about where things were going, just to be completely sure she wasn’t fooling herself. Lebo was proud of herself for not listening to the rumours she had heard about him. Molemo was a good guy, full stop. She was very sure of that.
Love on the Menu Page 3