Love on the Menu

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Love on the Menu Page 7

by Lerato Matsaneng


  Lebo stopped him. “You can’t keep paying me to stay in your life. You know as well as I do that if you hadn’t threatened to sue me, we wouldn’t be standing here. Our deal is over now. I can take care of myself from here, thank you.”

  Without making eye contact with him, Lebo headed back to the kitchen.

  Chapter 8

  8

  Lebo wasn’t keen on returning to the newspaper after the wonderful time she’d had organising the event for Molemo’s company.

  She had been treated like a businesswoman and her opinions had been respected, but here she was just another reporter on the payroll.

  It had been a while since she reported on any stories and she wasn’t in the mood to call around, asking celebrities if they wanted to be in the paper. Still, she had to come up with a story idea fast because the diary meeting was about to begin.

  She went through her e-mails, found a press release about a celebrity auction taking place soon, and immediately figured that was good enough to pitch.

  At this meeting all the journalists listened to each other’s ideas and the editor decided on whether a story was to be used or not.

  Lebo sat and looked around, unable to believe that she was back here. She thought about the great fun she’d had the previous week and imagined how it would have felt to have celebrated with Molemo, if only briefly.

  She was feeling guilty about not having hugged him and letting him explain his side of what had happened at the party in Sebokeng. But then she remembered how he had tried to use some new launch as a way of paying her to stay in his life, and immediately she was angry at him again.

  Today her heart and her head were at war. She couldn’t understand why love wasn’t happening the way it was supposed to.

  Lebo felt a poke from Rumbi. “Hey, wena, stop daydreaming and give us your story idea.”

  “Oh, sorry. Well, Mapungubwe Auctioneers are hosting a celebrity auction next week to raise funds for charity, so I thought I could interview the celebs to find out what they’re giving up for auction,” Lebo suggested, not sounding inspired at all.

  “Put that on ice. I have something else for you,” her editor said. “Some entertainment lawyer and his engineer friend have started an entertainment management company and a lifestyle website, which they’re launching tonight.” He handed her a piece of paper with some more information.

  Lebo read through it and threw the paper on the table.

  “I can’t do this, I’m busy.”

  “Listen here, missy, I’m the editor around here, not you. You will cover that story, and that’s it. Now get back to work, all of you, and remember – the deadline is the same as always: 2pm. So go out there and find some news fast.”

  As the other journalists got up and headed out, Lebo sat and wondered how she was going to get out of this assignment.

  “What’s wrong? Why don’t you want to cover the launch?” a puzzled Rumbi enquired.

  “Because it’s being organised by Molemo and his friend Sizwe. Do I really have to go? How will I get over him if he’s always in my space?” an exasperated Lebo said.

  “Maybe you aren’t meant to get over him,” her friend answered. “Why not just hear him out so that you can know where you really stand?”

  “I’ll have to think about it.”

  Lebo dreaded the idea of seeing Molemo again. She really wanted to forget about him, she told herself.

  * * *

  The launch was held at a club called Spotlight in Rosebank, which was down the road from Lebo’s flat, so she decided to meet the photographer there at 9pm. She wanted to be as quick as possible, interview a few celebrities and maybe Sizwe, then head back to her place. She planned to steer clear of Molemo.

  When Lebo arrived, the venue was packed with all the regular famous and beautiful people and journalists desperate for a scoop. She asked the photographer to get as many pictures as possible while she mingled a bit. She eventually decided against interviewing Sizwe and got his number from another journalist. She would call him first thing in the morning before handing in her story.

  After a few short interviews and some laughs with her journalist buddies, Lebo told the photographer she was leaving but he was free to stay and enjoy himself.

  When she got out into the fresh air, she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Molemo.

  “Why are you leaving? Shouldn’t you interview us?”

  He was looking good in black jeans, a white shirt and a dark blue cardigan with a black jacket and black shoes.

  “I’ll call Sizwe in the morning. Now please excuse me, it’s late.” She detached herself from his grip.

  “Lebo, I’m really sorry about that night at the Shisanyama. I was chilling with Sizwe. Then I got your SMS telling me how the Fashion Week opening went and how much you missed me. This one.” Molemo quickly scrolled through his phone and showed her the SMS.

  She was surprised to see that he still had the message. In a desperate bid to get him out of her life as quickly as possible and move on, she had deleted all the SMSs he had sent her.

  “I was excited to hear from you. Sizwe started making fun of me and asked why I was all smiles over an SMS. I told him how things had developed between us and how happy you made me. I also told him how ambitious and passionate you were about your business plans. And yes, I did tell him about the night you spent at my place.”

  “Why?” Lebo asked angrily. “That’s personal.”

  “But he’s my best friend. Please understand . . . I wasn’t disrespecting you. It’s because I care very deeply about you that I needed to share it with him. Of course, now I can see it wasn’t the time or place to do so. Because that was when Kgotso overheard us and started screaming at me . . . But I really need you to know that it wasn’t out of disrespect for you.”

  Lebo didn’t answer. She just looked at him, unable to decide whether she could believe him.

  He took her by the arm. “I’m not ashamed of how I feel about you. But you also need to understand something.”

  “What?” she asked, pulling her arm free.

  “People use me, Lebo – for money, favours, jobs, you name it. I’ve had to be very cautious about who I let into my life.”

  “So that’s what you think I want from you? Your money? No, thanks! I get by just fine on my own. I’m not one of your Shisanyama girls, I’m my own woman.” Lebo turned to leave.

  Molemo pulled her back and kissed her. It had been only a few weeks since she was last in his arms, but it felt like forever. His touch warmed her on this chilly night. She fought her mind and let her guard down and kissed him back. Their bodies ached for more as they held each other.

  Suddenly Molemo pulled back. “It’s going to take me some time to trust again, Lebo. Please understand.”

  “I can’t afford to pay for other people’s mistakes,” she said. “You need to sort yourself out.”

  Lebo looked into his eyes, then squeezed his hand and walked away.

  Chapter 9

  9

  The more Lebo thought about it, the more she decided it was best that she forgot about Molemo. She couldn’t bear to be treated like some floozy and would not let him punish her for something that she hadn’t done.

  How could he think she was after his money? Did he really believe she would stay in his life just because he was throwing catering jobs her way? First he tells the entire township about them and then he tells her that she needs to understand that he has trust issues. What sense did that make?

  Lebo was working hard to make her own money and felt insulted that Molemo was treating her like a cheap gold-digger. But still, in her heart she cared very deeply for him.

  Molemo had challenged her and treated her like an equal, and they had so many things in common. No matter what had happened between the two of them, she knew that the night they spent at her flat when she just lay in his arms had not been a lie, and the way they connected at his house had made her feel incredibly cared for. She knew he also
missed their times together, but there seemed no way they could have those special times again.

  It was a Friday evening after drinks with her friends and she was taking the hour-long drive to her parents’ house to discuss some more catering offers she had received with her mother and aunt. The winter cold was settling in and Lebo couldn’t wait to enjoy a cup of tea with her sister, who was home from university that weekend. The two of them hadn’t talked in a while and she missed her. MaMofokeng’s daughter Puleng would probably also pop in. She usually came over when Dineo was there.

  As Lebo drove into the driveway at her parents’ home, she saw her father coming out. He gestured for her to open the window, gave her a quick kiss and then said, “Your mom asked me to drop off these at Kgotso’s mother. Can you please do it for me?” He handed her half a dozen hymn books.

  Lebo hadn’t spoken to Kgotso since that night he had called her and shouted all kinds of insults at her. She wasn’t ready to bump into him, but she couldn’t say no to her father. All she could do was hope that her ex wouldn’t be home.

  After a short drive, Lebo knocked on Kgotso’s door. As luck would have it, it was he who opened the door.

  “What do you want?”

  “I came to drop these off for your mom.”

  He took the hymn books and shut the door in her face.

  Lebo marched back to her car. She was furious with Kgotso. What right did he have to treat her like that after everything she had done for him? How dare he play the victim in this situation?

  Lebo’s rage made her turn back to the house. She knocked on the door again, and again it was Kgotso who opened.

  “I get it that you’re upset, but what gives you the right to feel that you’ve been betrayed by me?” she said. “You never treated me well, so why complain when I meet someone who does? If you’re hurt about Molemo and me, then I’m sorry, but I’m not going to apologise for being happy.” Lebo was tired of being made to feel guilty about other people’s problems.

  “You want me to say I’m happy that you found love in the arms of another man?” Kgotso asked with an angry look in his eyes. “Well, I can’t. You know I wanted to make things right between us. But instead you went and fell in love with the most notorious player in town. So what do you want me to do? Congratulate you?”

  Lebo tried to reply, but he cut in and said, “I’ve got company to get back to.” With that he made to shut the door in her face for the second time.

  Lebo lost her cool completely and shouted, “I don’t care about your damn company!”

  Kgotso stared at her in surprise. Lebo herself was taken aback. In all the time she had known Kgotso, she had never sworn or shouted at him.

  Kgotso hesitated, then stepped out of the house and shut the door behind him.

  “I’m sorry for having called you a bitch. I was just upset by what I’d heard. It was hard for me to hear Molemo talk about you like that,” he tried to reason with her.

  “Hard for you? How selfish can you be? You know what, to hell with you and Molemo!” Lebo screamed.

  She stomped back to her car. She couldn’t believe that after everything they had been through, Kgotso had been ready to believe only the worst about her. Even during and after their break-up, no matter how much she hurt, she had remained friendly, but today he had made all her efforts seem worthless.

  She looked for her phone and found it in her handbag. There was an SMS from Molemo, and it simply said:

  I miss you.

  Lebo sat in her car and wondered where to go from here. The more she took two steps forward, the more she felt her heart taking ten backward.

  Molemo was arrogant and had hurt her, yet she felt a love for him such as she had never experienced before. Though they had spent very little time together, she missed him so much . . . But still she fought her heart not to give in to its misery.

  When she got back home, Lebo found her mother and aunt arguing over recipes.

  “Child, tell your mom that you can’t put too much sugar in the sponge cakes or they’ll be hard,” her aunt said as soon as she walked into the house.

  “Lebohang, please tell your aunt she’s wrong, there’s an art to it,” her mother defended her special recipe.

  Lebo wasn’t in the mood to defend either of the two. Choosing sides would only mean trouble for her.

  “How about you each bake your own recipe and then let Papa, Dineo, Puleng and me decide which is the best?”

  Before she had finished her sentence, the two women were already grabbing ingredients from the cupboards. The racket in the kitchen made her wish she had rather taken someone’s side. At this rate it would be a while before peace was restored in the house.

  Lebo went to her bedroom and read the SMS from Molemo over and over again. She didn’t know whether to reply or to ignore it. She wished things had been different between the two of them. She wanted him to love her and only her, and to trust that she was not another gold-digger after his money but a loving woman after his heart.

  * * *

  The next morning Lebo, her mother and her aunt sat in MaMokoena’s living room, having their first official business meeting.

  “Lebo, before you start, you must pray,” her aunt instructed her.

  “Mara, Mme, it’s just a simple meeting.”

  “So you only pray when you want something from God? Pray, child.”

  Lebo prayed.

  After the prayer and a brief discussion about the importance of starting all their meetings with a prayer, Lebo told the older women about all the offers they had for the next few months and gave each a calendar of events until November.

  Then she informed them that she would register a company and get them a bank account and a tax number so they could start working professionally.

  “I told you about the big time, and look at us now!” exclaimed an ecstatic MaMokoena.

  Chapter 10

  10

  The accountant’s offices were in Midrand, opposite Vodaworld. Lebo had got his details from Rumbi, who had made a number of high-profile and useful business contacts through her job as a business reporter. Rumbi assured Lebo that he would be able to help her register the new company.

  Lebo had spoken to the man over the phone and had brought all the documentation he requested. She was keen to get things going. She needed to give their banking details to the companies she and her mother and aunt had undertaken to cater for so they could transfer the deposit money into the fledgling company’s account.

  She and the accountant were meeting at a coffee shop just outside his offices. She managed to find parking and entered the coffee shop clutching her wad of papers and looking around rather nervously.

  The accountant turned out to be a short, nerdy-looking man. He wore thick glasses and had an old leather briefcase with him.

  He was very sweet and took Lebo through the registration process step by step. He told her he would have everything finalised within a week or so. While he discussed payment and tax and other accounting matters, Lebo felt overwhelmed. She had decided to name the company Sunflower Catering & Events, after her favourite flower.

  The accountant spent some more time talking about things Lebo needed to look out for in business. She told him how she was running around, trying to make things work for the new company, in between working as a journalist.

  When the man asked Lebo if she had a mentor guiding her through all of this, she thought about the first time she had met Molemo and how he had offered to help her. But now she was doing everything on her own, without any assistance. She felt very proud, yet scared that she would be conned by people if she didn’t have any guidance.

  “No, I don’t.”

  The accountant smiled reassuringly. “My wife and I run our own accounting practice and work with many entrepreneurs. If you ever need any support, please don’t hesitate to call. We’re keen to help develop young talent such as yourself.”

  Lebo thanked the man and was glad she had seen him.
She realised there was much more that she still had to learn about running a business.

  Driving back to the newspaper, she found herself thinking about Molemo. She missed him terribly. At times like these she wanted to talk to him and get his expert advice on things. She missed his laugh, his humorous irony and the emotions she felt when lying in his arms. She just wanted to float in his company and marinate in his love.

  * * *

  Later that day Bongi invited Lebo and Rumbi to lunch at Mimmos. She had some good news she wanted to tell them, she said. Lebo had been feeling low and was keen to hear about something positive happening in her friend’s life.

  “Okay, so you know the features editor has resigned, right?” Bongi asked as the girls were sitting down.

  “Can you at least wait for us to order a drink?”

  “No, I want to share this with you right now. They’ve offered me the job!” Bongi screamed.

  Her friends joined in, screaming even louder.

  “Wow, that’s exciting, choma! So you’re like our new boss now,” Lebo teased her.

  “Oh, please, you two will soon leave me to follow your careers. Rumbi will be working as an HR director for some big company and you, little madam, will be cooking for BEEs.”

  The girls laughed and ordered a round of daiquiris. They drank a toast to their future success.

  As they were enjoying their drinks, Rumbi told them to look at an odd couple walking past. Lebo lifted her head and saw it was a really extraordinary-looking girl. She was obviously much younger than the man with her, and wore green leggings with a black shirt and a cerise pink jacket over it. The girl’s weave was tied in clumsy ponytails. She didn’t match the man’s suited look.

  “Guys, that’s Molemo – but I have no idea who the Barbie is.”

  Molemo spotted Lebo and her friends. He left his companion sitting at the table at which they’d just taken place and came over.

 

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