“I tried to call you and SMSed you countless times over the weekend,” he continued more seriously. “Why didn’t you respond?”
Lebo didn’t reply. She just stood there, looking at his injured eye and prompting him to answer her question.
“Oh, this is nothing,” Molemo said, pointing at his black eye. “Kgotso punched me, but I’m okay.”
“Pity,” Lebo threw at him.
“You’re being childish again,” he said with a slight smile.
Not in the least amused, she announced, “I didn’t want to talk to you, that’s why I didn’t respond to your calls and SMSs. I came to tell you that I’m pulling out of your event. I can’t work with a man like you. Do you need it in writing, or is verbally okay?”
“You can’t do that.” A shocked Molemo got up and walked towards her.
“Why not? How can you expect me to work with you after what has happened? I hate you and I want nothing to do with you.”
“You can hate me all you like, but you’re doing this event or we’ll sue for breach of contract,” Molemo stated flatly. “And while we’re at it – another rule of business, don’t bring your bedroom politics into the boardroom. Never mix business with pleasure. Now if you don’t mind, I have another meeting to get to. You know your way out.”
Lebo couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Aren’t you even going to apologise?” she shot at Molemo, struggling to hold back her tears. “How can you just go on acting like nothing happened? What kind of person are you?”
By now the tears were ready to flow, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that she had cried over him.
“You came here to fight,” Molemo replied icily, “so I’m giving you what you want. I wanted to talk and give you my side of the story, but you wouldn’t let me, so please close the door on your way out.”
He walked back to his desk and started typing on his laptop.
“Oh, and by the way,” he said, lifting his head for a moment, “it’s nothing personal, just business.” Then he looked back at his computer and continued typing.
Lebo was dumbstruck. How could this evil man sitting in front of her and the gentle man she had felt so much love for just days ago be the same person? She felt angry at herself for having been so stupid. After all, she had been warned about him.
On her way out, she bumped into Dudu. “Great to see you, Lebo. I was going to call you later. I’d like you to prepare some food for us to try out this Friday. Nothing over the top, just finger samples of what you’re planning to serve at the event. Remember, it has to be local recipes in line with our proudly South African theme,” Dudu rattled on, but Lebo’s mind was back in Molemo’s office, desperate to make sense of what had just happened.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to run. Can you please put all of that in an e-mail, then I’ll respond and arrange accordingly,” Lebo told Dudu and headed out of the offices.
By the time she got to the lift, she couldn’t hold her tears in any longer.
Chapter 7
7
After endless debates in her head, Lebo had decided to go ahead with the plans for the event. Molemo was right, she couldn’t afford a lawsuit. Plus: if she pulled out now, he would never know what a talented cook she was.
Lebo was out to prove a point. She was a fantastic woman, and it was high time people took note of that.
She had decided to take some time off work to put all her energy into hosting an exceptional event, not only to prove to Molemo that she was talented, but also because she wanted so badly to go on with her life: a life she had planned long before meeting him, a life that she wanted to go on with even after this brief encounter with him.
Lebo was fighting to get her heart back. She wanted to stop feeling anything for Molemo. She wanted to get him off her mind and move on.
But it was harder than she had thought. There were moments when she felt free from him. These were often accompanied by spunky music, some funny dance moves and lots of self-assurance that she could be better by herself – she had, after all, been single and happy before meeting Molemo.
But there were also moments when her heart and head conspired against her and the only thing she wanted was Molemo. To hear him laugh, to have long, insightful conversations with him, to feel his love and just be held by him.
At these times her mind acted like an old movie theatre, replaying scenes of the two of them together. These images were so vivid that she felt as if she was back there. She could hear his voice, smell his aftershave and feel his touch. Her heart would long for him, and she had to admit that these moments were stronger and more frequent than the feelings of letting him go.
Deep down, all she wanted to know was: why? Why were her heart and head betraying her? Why couldn’t she let Molemo go? Why had he done her such an injustice? Why had she fallen in love with him?
Lebo was driving home to meet with her mother and aunt so they could prepare the dishes for the tasting session at Molemo’s offices the next day. She arrived home to find the two older ladies already hard at work, peeling vegetables and washing the pots they were planning to cook in.
“Dumelang, ka tlung,” Lebo greeted them as she walked into the kitchen to get her apron and join in the preparations.
She enjoyed working with her mother and aunt. They were a formidable team. Once they had their matching aprons on, the women went into a kind of trance and kept going until their feet and hands ached.
Her mother and her aunt, Lebo thought – these were the women who had taught her the importance of working hard and made her feel loved and accepted for who she was.
“Aunty, please don’t forget it’s only a tasting session – there will only be three people there, so don’t go overboard,” she said as she stared at the large pot her aunt was getting ready for the creamed spinach.
The three of them had decided that their menu would include chicken giblets with freshly baked bread for starters, or a salad mix for vegetarians. Their main courses would be either samp and mutton stew or tripe and idombolo, both served with butternut and creamed spinach. Vegetarians would have vegetable curry with either the samp or idombolo.
Dessert would consist of a variety of small, sweet titbits such as koeksisters, little peppermint pies and milk tartlets, and MaMokoena’s famous miniature sponge cakes.
* * *
In the morning the three women loaded Lebo’s little car with all the food they had spent the entire night preparing, and headed towards Johannesburg to showcase their talent.
“Will that Molemo boy be there?” MaMokoena enquired from the back seat. “I want to thank him for this wonderful opportunity.”
Lebo got a little nervous. Knowing her mother, she realised MaMokoena would go on and on to Molemo about how fantastic this opportunity was and embarrass her daughter no end.
“He should be there, Mme, but please take it easy with the thank-yous. Remember, we are also professionals, and they need our services as much as we need their contract.” Lebo wanted to make sure her mother and aunt did not seem too desperate in front of Molemo and his colleagues.
“Professionals my foot, Lebohang!” Her mother was the only person who ever used her full name, and whenever she did that, Lebo knew to fear trouble. “This boy has done us a great favour and you need to be thankful, understand?” MaMokoena lectured.
The women arrived an hour before they were due to start and used the kitchen at the offices to prepare for their presentation.
Eventually Dudu walked in and told them that the panel was ready.
The three women had set up the boardroom the way they were planning to decorate the venue at the anniversary event. The company colours were black, gold and silver, so they had decided on a white tablecloth with a black organza overlay, with silver cutlery and white crockery. The centrepiece was a fish bowl-shaped clear vase with hundreds of little silver and gold beads inside.
The programmes and menus would be in gold and black, an
d the thank-you gifts were wrapped in silver.
Just as they had agreed to do, Lebo walked in to introduce herself and took the panel through the decorations and the menu. Her mother and aunt felt that they should stay in the background on this project, since Lebo was the one who had been negotiating things from the start.
Lebo was disappointed to see that Molemo wasn’t present. She had hoped to impress him with their presentation and wondered why he wasn’t there. He probably had another meeting, or maybe he just didn’t want to see her. Either way, it bothered her that he wasn’t present. She tried to shake off the feeling and get on with her presentation.
Dudu introduced the company’s chief operations officer. He was standing in for Molemo, who had to go to another appointment.
The other man at the table was their business development manager, a young man of about thirty-two who looked far too serious for Lebo’s liking. She hoped her food would cheer the two men up; they looked like a sad pair.
After taking a deep breath, she started. “Good day, lady and gentlemen. My name is Lebo Mokoena. I’ll be your chef this afternoon.”
Over the next two hours Lebo served the panel their tasters and talked them through the ingredients. She and Dudu fielded questions on the decor, entertainment, guest list and general programme for the event.
In the end the panel was impressed. They loved the food and decor and were looking forward to a successful event. Lebo was very happy – the food had indeed cheered them up. They were smiling and chatting between themselves – she felt good, she felt confident that the event was going to be a success.
Lebo spent the next two weeks organising her end of the event-planning agreement with Dudu. She had secured her friends Afro-pop singer Ntando and comedian David Kau to entertain the guests. Luckily for Lebo, the convention centre where the event was being held came with the option of an executive bar. She was relieved to get that out of the way, because it was a big worry for her, seeing that she hardly knew whisky from cognac. In addition, the venue managers arranged for twenty waiters to assist Lebo on the big evening, as well as with the preparations beforehand.
Running to and fro and organising for the event made Lebo extremely happy. She felt in control, unlike at the Daily Mirror. There she had always felt as if she was doing someone else’s dirty work. The past two weeks had reaffirmed her desire to run her own business and do her own thing.
But all the activity and excitement had done little to help her get her mind off Molemo. She had been to his offices twice since the taster session and had hoped to bump into him, but no such luck. On her last visit Dudu had mentioned in passing that Molemo had the flu. Lebo wanted to call and check up on him and maybe even take him some ginger-and-honey tea to help him get better, but her pride wouldn’t let her, especially when she recalled their last conversation.
* * *
The morning of the gala dinner Lebo, her mother and her aunt arrived at the convention centre early. The venue had been cleaned the night before and they could start putting up the decorations straightaway. With the help of the waiters assigned to them, the three women spent the day arranging everything. By afternoon the sound team arrived to set up the stage, while Lebo’s mother and aunt were already cooking in the kitchen.
When Lebo stepped onto the stage and looked around the hall, she felt her heart swell with pride. She had done well and felt proud of herself. She looked at a group of waiters who were arranging the last of the chairs and thought about how they respected her as their leader. This was the life she had long desired, the life where she was the boss leading a strong and productive team.
Around 6pm the guests started to trickle in. Lebo was nervous. This was her first big project, and even though the event had been planned down to the last detail, she couldn’t afford to take anything for granted. She would have to remain hands-on until the end.
As hordes of successful-looking men and women arrived, the waiters offered them champagne and led them to their seats.
Lebo’s phone vibrated in her back pocket. Seeing that it was Bongi, she ducked into a corner to answer.
“Hi, girl, what’s up? Can’t talk. The guests are arriving,” she whispered into her phone.
“Yes, we know. We’re outside, come out quickly.”
Slightly annoyed, Lebo rushed to the car park and found her friends leaning against Bongi’s car.
“We brought you this. It’s not the best ever, but we’re so proud of you and we thought you’d need it.” Rumbi handed Lebo a small parcel.
Lebo opened it and was stunned to see a set of business cards. They had her name in big, bold red letters, and below it was written “Event Planner & Caterer” with her cellphone number and private e-mail address. The card had a picture of a fork and knife on a briefcase.
“We didn’t know what you were going to call your business, so we didn’t add that,” Bongi said as she hugged Lebo. “We’re incredibly proud of you, girl.”
“Thanks so much, guys. I don’t know what to say.”
“Just go in there and knock them dead. Call and tell us how it went. We have to get going or we’re going to miss our movie,” Rumbi said, leaning forward for her hug.
By 7pm all the guests had arrived and the event started officially. The master of ceremonies was Sizwe Makhanya, a well-known entertainment lawyer, and also a very close friend of Molemo’s. He was the one Molemo had been talking to about Lebo when Kgotso overheard them and the trouble ensued.
After the welcome and introductions, the starters were served. Lebo had instructed her team on how to present the food. The guests started eating while David Kau made everyone laugh.
With the starters done it was time for the keynote address by the company CEO, Molemo Tladi. Lebo stood watching from the kitchen door. Molemo was looking very stylish. He was wearing a tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt, a black velvet tie, silver cufflinks and a dark silver pocket square.
Molemo was very articulate as he made his speech. He thanked their current clients for believing in their vision as a young company and promised them many more years of excellent service. Then he proceeded to tell potential and new clients to trust in their brand. Madumo Construction & Engineering had an impeccable record, and if anyone didn’t believe him, they could ask the person sitting next to them, who was probably a happy client of the company. This made the crowd laugh and applaud.
Lebo was intrigued by Molemo. He was not only a ladies’ man, but could clearly charm a room full of important people as well. As the CEO got his standing ovation, she was impressed to see many influential business people and even some cabinet ministers were present.
After Molemo’s speech, the guests were treated to the main course and Ntando serenaded them with his soulful tunes. Lebo’s mother and aunt had their hands full dishing up and reminding the waiters to be careful with the plates.
Lebo wanted to help, but one of the waiters called her and told her that a guest wanted to speak to the caterer. Lebo was nervous – she thought something had gone wrong and was already preparing an apology in her head.
“Evening, young lady. Are you the caterer?” asked a distinguished-looking man.
“Yes, sir, my team and I are. Is everything okay?”
“Your food is absolutely delicious. Here’s my card. Please call me in the morning. We could use your services at our upcoming event,” the man said.
“I’ll be sure to give you a ring, sir. Thank you and enjoy your meal.”
Lebo walked briskly into the kitchen and then screamed with excitement. This night was turning out even better than she had hoped for.
After the main meal, the guests listened to another speech and watched a DVD of the company profile as they enjoyed their dessert. Lebo was standing at the kitchen door watching, not the company DVD, but the heads nodding with approval of their delicious treats. Her mother had been right – the big time was on its way.
After the dessert and final acknowledgements, some of the guests
started mingling as others began to leave. An hour later there were only a handful of people left.
Lebo and her team were clearing up in the kitchen when Molemo walked in.
“Dumelang, bomme, ke nna Molemo Tladi,” he introduced himself to MaMokoena and MaMofokeng. “Thank you very much for your wonderful work. You really impressed me, my colleagues and our guests.”
“It’s a pleasure, my son, and it’s so nice to meet you. Your parents must be so proud, hle.” MaMokoena was at it immediately, going on and on about how grateful they were for the opportunity Molemo had given them. Lebo wanted to put her hand over her mother’s mouth. She was making them seem like a bunch of desperate women.
“Lebo, may I please have a word with you outside?” Molemo asked, opening the kitchen door.
Lebo was so excited about the success of the evening that she wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss him, but her head told her otherwise. She was still upset with him and this night’s success didn’t change anything.
In a rather curt tone she said, “Thanks so much for putting your trust in us.”
“It was a pleasure. You know I’d do anything for you,” Molemo replied as he handed her several business cards.
“What are these?”
“It’s from people who want you to call them about catering for their events.”
“That’s very kind of you. I appreciate your help.”
“Lebo, on a personal note – I’m sorry about everything. Please give me a chance to explain my side of things to you.”
But she wouldn’t hear of it. Much as she missed Molemo and longed for him, she was still hurt by what he had done.
“Not now, I’m busy. After all, you did say one should never mix business and pleasure.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Molemo looked crestfallen. “I’d like you to cater for an upcoming event. Another project I’m working on, which we’re launching soon, and I’m sure you . . .”
Love on the Menu Page 6