Chapter 5

Friday afternoon, Gontse knocked at my examination room. I assumed she wanted us to go out. I had told her all about my dad's madness and she was as furious as I was.

I let her in.
Gontse: Friend, I wanted to come check up on you. After…
Me: It's fine. Thank you. I am still not feeling well but I think I have made my decision. Yeah. I will just move out permanently from my dad's house. It's clear he doesn't need me. Then…I will invite Yandani. We're going to stay together after I get an apartment. He is the man I want to spend my life with.
Gontse: I'm so glad to see you this optimistic. Well, my man and I are going to use this early knock off for a date!
Me: Definitely! All thanks to the interns
We both laughed.

We were knocking off early because…our new interns were bouncing off the walls and ended up getting longer shifts. I checked the time, and it was 16: 04.

I took the lift to the ground floor, then walked to the parking lot. I hopped in my car and drove to my hotel. It was scorching hot, and I ended up driving with the top down. I drove a red Range Rover.

I obviously drove to my hotel, where I took off my scrubs, took a shower then called for room service. I needed food. Fresh, delicious food. And some champagne. A few minutes later, there was a knock at my door.
"That was fast" I said to myself, heading to the door.

I opened the door, and it was definitely not what I expected. There was a man at my door. A total stranger. Who is this? I looked at him from the feet up.

He was wearing D&G sneakers, as white as snow. His legs, firm and toned. His military green shorts dared to show off his legs. His veiny arms were one that would blow a woman's mind away…just like the manly, caressing cologne he wore. His bold, thick eyebrows and lashes sat perfectly on his white chocolate skin. I could taste the vanilla in his flesh as though it wasn't just sitting on his tone. Just a shade.

He wore a cap, so I couldn't see his hair. His beard hugged only his chin and that was…godly. It was well maintained… that I could easily tell. A well-trimmed and oiled goatee.
Jama: Hey, princess.
He smiled. His lips scolded the thirst in me.
Jama: They should've warned me you're this gorgeous! I would've been in my best outfit.

What did he mean? He was literally perfect! Now…I knew who this man was.
Me: Who are you? What brings you here?
Gosh! I was simply in my black leggings and cropped pink shirt. I felt embarrassed.
Jama: Please have these flowers.
He handed me the bouquet of white roses he had in his hands. They were a little heavy to be honest.
Me: Thanks.
I opened the door wider for him to come in.

His eyes quickly strolled around my room, as though he was seeking something…someone…a man. Any indication of a man.
Me: You are?
Jama: Your soon-to-be husband. Gosh! You are breathtaking.
He said that with so much authority.

I instantly fell for this guy. Just like that. The freshness in the way he smelled took my breath away. He was so perfect. His voice belonged with the opera. I was so sure this man could sing.

No…I wasn't. I wasn't falling for a stranger. Yandani! Yes, I had to keep him close in my mind, so not to fall. Not so quick. Not so fast! That would be stupid of me.
Jama: I'm Jama. Jama Ngcobo.
He offered his hand for a handshake, but I just looked at it and tossed the bouquet on the bed.
Jama: That's not how you're going to toss it on our wedding day. We are getting married.
Me: There isn't going to be any wedding. I have already made it clear to dad. I will not be marrying you. Not now, not ever. Please leave.
Jama: Oh…is it? If I may ask…why?
Me: you may not ask.
I looked him straight in the eyes. I would not allow my little, stupid heart fall for a guy I didn't know. It was deceiving me.

He looked at me and smiled, again. Making my knees weak.
Me: please leave.
Jama: Okay, before you get rid of me. Let's say…for the shift you're missing tomorrow, I will pay equivalent your monthly salary.
Me: What? Do you know how much that is? Huh? Do you know who I am?
Jama: You are my wife to be.
He giggled. As though he was funny. Maybe he was. Maybe he was a clown.

But…why was my heart pounding so fast, with every gaze. Every glance. My heart was betraying me.
Jama: I'm charmed. I love what I see. I appreciate your beauty.
He stood there, tall as hell! He folded his arms and smirked.
Jama: Come on…lover. Don't turn me down. Not when I like you so much already.
Me: I'm not your lover.
Jama: Okay…I'll triple it.
Me: stop! You don't need to do all that!
Jama: What? I'll write you a million cheques if you continue to turn me down.
Me: Do I have a choice? You're nagging!
Jama: Thank you, beautiful. I'll make reservations. Be ready by 6: 00 pm tomorrow. I'll have my chauffeur come get you.
Me: No need. I have my own car.
Jama: That wasn't a question, nor suggestion. He will come.
Me: Fine.
He held my little hand and kissed it.
Jama: I'll leave now. I have a shoot to get to. Take care.
He said and walked out the door.

Only he walked out the door, his scent was stuck in my room. I received my food but couldn't eat any. I was glad yet full of guilt. I shouldn't have agreed to the date…that's what I thought.

His arms…his lips…his voice…his whole face! Him! His image was stuck in my mind. I smelled the bouquet a hundred times. Gosh, Dabeka!

I didn't know what to do with myself. I called Gontse. The phone rang twice, and she answered.
Gontse: friend.
Me: Gontse, something just happened.
I smiled, looking at my dumb self in the mirror.
Gontse: Oh…kay. Shoot. What happened? Are you alright?
Me: The guy. The guy came and…I don't know. I really don't. Oh my God! I'm failing myself!
Gontse: What guy? Come on. Stop speaking in riddles.
Me: The guy. The one…I'm supposed to marry.

I was pacing up and down in the room.
Gontse: Oh my God! How are you feeling? He didn't hurt you?
Me: No, no. Absolutely not.
Gontse: Oh. That's great.
She let out a deep exhale.
Gontse: So…Who is he? How does he look? Tell me more.
Me: He looks perfect, friend. He looks like a fantasy. He sounds like one too. It's the little things. His Adam's apple! He looks and sounds so masculine. He is a man. I just…I think I feel something already.
Gontse: Dabeka! Now I'm interested. Go on.

I laid on the bed, facing the ceiling.
Me: He came with roses. They look as amazing as him. The way he walks? Damnit! That man charmed me. He speak with so much grace and confidence. He is just…awesome. Perfect as a man. I like him.
Gontse: What are you thinking? You already want to marry him?
Me: Uhm…no. Of course, not. I love my man. Yandani is the man for me chommie. But…I agreed to go out with him. Just this once. I need him to disappoint me. I need him to give me a reason not to think of him. If I do…I might make a bad decision.
Gontse: Friend, give yourself a break. You deserve to make a decision of your own. Maybe, he might give you a reason to trust your dad's decision. He probably saw something in him. Go out with him but don't let your guide down.
Me: Sure. You're right. I need to be careful. He is still a stranger.
Gontse: A beautiful stranger.
Me: A breathtaking stranger.
We both laughed.

I didn't only need to be careful about myself but for Yandani too. The man who had fallen in love with me even in my darkest days. The man who had appreciated my most frightening flaws. He didn't deserve any hurt. I wasn't going to hurt him. Ever. I was certain.

The following morning was so radiant and lively. I woke up and checked my phone for any messages and emails. It was only Yandani who had texted me, "Good morning my angel, I hope you had a pleasant night". I responded by sending him a voice note, telling him how pleasant it was. It was also a way to have him listen to his angel's voice.

Just as I was about to put my phone down and head to the shower, I received a WhatsApp text from an unknown number. I checked their profile, and it was Jama. I was shocked to receive a good morning text from him, but I just knew he must've gotten my number from dad. I responded to his text and headed to the shower.

I let the cold-water stroll cozily down my back, releasing every ounce of tension. My pop playlist shuffle was meeting me halfway.

After the shower, I had honey dipped berries and then granola afterwards. It was a pleasant morning indeed. I oiled my body and buttered my afro before combing it out. I wasn't going to tie it.

I put on my khaki shorts, pink vest and white sneaker. I grabbed my bag and took a cab to the mall. I seriously needed a dress. He seemed like someone who appreciated fashion, and I wouldn't dare go out with him looking basic.

It took me about two hours before finding the perfect dress. It was a black, strapless dress. I also got matching heels and took a cab to my hairdresser. I needed to get my hair done but I also didn't want it to look like I was attending a wedding.

Unfortunately, I missed my appointment and so I had to wait for a few hours before getting my hair done but the wait was absolutely worth it.

By the time I headed back to my hotel, it was already 4: 00, meaning I only had two hours left to prepare.

Just after I freshened up, there was a knock at the door. I put on the robe and rushed to open it. It was Gontse.
Me: Friend…
Gontse: Sis…why are you not answering the phone. You had me worried.
Me: My phone?
I had to check my phone because it didn't ring, not once.
Gontse: Yeah. I rang you four times.
Me: I'm sorry. Oh, here. I can see the missed calls. I don't know how, but it seems I mistakenly put it on silence.
Gontse: It's fine.
She rolled her eyes and slightly tossed me to the other side of the door so she could enter.

I looked at her and shook my head.
Gontse: What?
Me: You are definitely the youngest child and can't hide it!
Gontse: Well…if you had stepped away a little, I wouldn't have to do that.
We both laughed.

I closed the door as she sat on the couch.
Me: Juice? Any drink?
Gontse: Uhm…no. If I feel thirsty, I'll get myself something to drink. Or just call room service.

I forgot how comfortable she is around my family and I. Whenever she is home, MaKhambule gets excited because she is always the one guest who will cater for herself. She is definitely dad's other daughter. She gels with everyone. Ask my pig-headed sister, Bhanekazi. They get along so well and quarrel like biological sisters. I'm not sure if they aren't, if you ask me.

She leaned back on the couch and stared at me.
Me: What?
Gontse: that was the best hairstyle Tshidi could give you? Really?
Me: Uhm…no. Not really. Stop judging me. Or her. I am the one who wanted this one.
Gontse: I see. You just never grow a sense of proper taste. No matter how much I try. I get it…Not all doctors are nerds, but you are.
Me: Okay shoot. Why are you here?
Gontse: I think I've already said that.
Me: N…o. No, you haven't.
Gontse: Here, I got you a dress.
Me: I've already bought myself a dress. It's beautiful. Take a look.

I handed her my shopping bag, and she took a look at my outfit.
Gontse: Gosh, Dabeka! I'm sorry but I'm not letting you wear this. I knew you were going to mess this up.
Me: That…come on. That dress is beautiful. It is. I don't need to wear something too fancy. Okay…do you know how much it costs? Cost me an arm and a leg for sure!
Gontse: You cannot buy style. Take a look at the dress I bought you. For goodness' sake!
She sighed and shook her head in defeat.

One thing about Gontse? She will stress you out. The dress was a white, corset dress.
Me: This looks amazing!
Gontse: You're welcome. The white is going to make you the centre of attention, probably, pretty soon the centre of his world. You have a body too angelic to waste it on this basic dress. No offense. This dress you bought is to be worn on your second or third date.
Me: What do you think about the heels?
Gontse: They're superb. I just don't think they complement the dress. Though, they are not a terrible match. I don't know how but we're going to make it work. Do you even know what he likes?
Me: Yeah, I do. Of course, I do. I've known him for a year now.
Gontse: Okay, pardon. Give me something though…anything. There must be clue. We need to know what we're dealing with.
Me: He was dressed like someone who appreciates fashion. He looked magnificent. He was wearing casual.
Gontse: Wait…do you even know what he does for a living?
Me: No. Not really. I just know his family owns a wealthy chemical and energy company. His dad is the founder and the major shareholder. Not just that…I heard he possesses stock for some diamond mine.
Gontse: Wow…what's his name again?
Me: Jama Ngcobo.
Gontse: I think I've read about his family somewhere last year. But it was concerning the mine. It wasn't doing well.
Me: Lucky you. I don't bother reading the news.
Gonste: Wait a second…
Me: What are you doing?

She dug, looking for something from her handbag. She pulled out her phone after a little while.
Me: What are you doing?
Gontse: Helping you.
Me: time is not on our side. Can't we do this some other time?
Gontse: Found him!
Me: What have you found? Let me see.
Gontse: how could we miss this?
She glanced at me with disbelief in her face.

She handed me her phone. This girl was so quick to find Jama on Instagram. I looked at his profile and he had about 200 k followers. He was 'thee rich kid' and I almost missed that.
Me: Okay…interesting.
Gontse: Right?
Me: He is a model! What!? No. I'm not doing this! This person was a cover of the Forbes magazine sometime last year. Girls worship him. No! He is a hit!
Gontse: What? You're not going to go out because he is a model?
Me: He is way too popular for my liking. I will regret doing this.
Gontse: I totally understand. I also understand why he made you kick air yesterday. He is one hell of a charm.

Yeah, right, he was. He was a perfect man. Some men are handsome, some are hot, but he was beautiful. There was something about him that grasped all my attention and couldn't seem to let go. He was a fantasy more than anything. He touched me without touching me…from a distance. He tickled my femineity. And mostly, he turned me on.
Gontse: Sit down. We're doing your make up.
Me: No. I'm no longer going.
Gontse: We've been friends for too long, sis. If you had changed your mind, you would be in your pyjamas by now, having a snack or catching up on your boring shows. I know how you act when your mind is made up.
Me: Fine!
I sat on the fluffy ottoman, and she started doing my make up. It was getting late, but we were getting there.
After, I slipped into my corset dress, and it looked fire on me. I made it look ten times better.

I sat down and she helped me put on my heels. She stood behind me as I looked at myself in the mirror.
Gontse: You look tea! Anyone will be lucky to call you a friend or a partner. He is lucky to be dining at the same table as yours this evening. Those girls' comments shouldn't mess up your mind. He doesn't entertain them. Look at you! So exquisite.
Me: Thank you. This is all your hard work.
Gontse: No, wrong. This is all Auntie Khethiwe's genes. They're taking you places.
Me: Why bring her up? You know I never want to speak of her. She neglected me. But…I think of her at times. I hope she is still alive.
Gontse: She is. She was gangster. We will find her, someday. Have hope.
Me: Yeah. I ho…
My phone rang.

It was Jama.
Me: Hello.
Jama: Princess…the chauffeur is heading to your hotel. Are you ready?
Me: Sure. I am.
Jama: Okay then. Can't wait to see you.
I could hear him smile, and he ended the call.

Gontse finished packing all my necessities in my purse and handed it to me.
Gontse: I guess we're done here. We should wait downstairs.
Me: sure. We should.

We took the elevator to the ground floor, then she walked me outside. Within a few minutes, the chauffeur arrived.
Chauffeur: Miss Mtolo?
Me: Yes, Dr Mtolo.
I had to fix that. I worked hard for this title. He nodded and opened the car door for me.

He played soft jazz and just couldn't stop stealing glances of me from rear view mirror. I cleared my throat and looked right back at him from the same mirror.
Chauffeur: I'm sorry. I know staring is rude. I'm just admiring your beauty. Mr. Ngcobo is one fortunate man.
He smiled.
Me: it is well. Thank you for the compliments. I hope he knows.
I giggled.

After a long drive, we finally made it to the restaurant. He opened the door for me to exit the car and…as soon as I walked into the restaurant, heads turned, and throats cleared. They were making me anxious, but it was well. In a way, they assured me I looked phenomenal. The dress on my body and skin was consuming all the attention there was.

His eyes smiled as I approached the table. His scent making my nostrils rejoice. He had a fresh, clean haircut that made him look 100 times better than the first time we met. I couldn't believe my eyes. I couldn't fathom that really, there was a being as stunning as him.

He pulled out a chair for me.
Me: Thank you.
I said, as I sat.
Jama: You look amazing.
He whispered as he stood behind me. Leaning low so his lips slightly touch my earlobe. The hairs behind my neck, stood to applaud his flawlessness.

His voice was touching a place I didn't know existed in my little soul. I took a deep exhale as he took his seat.
Jama: You look gorgeous! I did not anticipate you would look so…easy on the eye.
Me: Well, thank you. Thank you so much. I'd say the same about you. You are a piece of art.
The waitron served us starters and chardonnay.
Jama: Is it, my lady? Speaking of art…your body. Hmm…It's as though it was sculpted by one of those Greek artists. Your almond eyes are just so pure. Your skin…a Swiss chocolate fountain. I love everything about you. I believe my eyes have met heaven.
He slightly nodded. Sipping his wine.

This man had a way with his words. Gosh! I was impressed. I couldn't fight it. The blazing love I was gradually growing for him. He was just masterpiece in my presence.
Me: Thank you, Mapholoba. Also, this place. You selected the perfect venue for us to rendezvous. The dishes, the ambience…every single thing about it just phenomenal.
Jama: Anything for you.
He chuckled.
Me: Fine. You can stop staring at me like that now.

He was gazing at me as though I was something he only saw in a dream. That was definitely making me blush.
Jama: I'm afraid that's impossible. I apologize. You're so mesmerizing, I cannot help it. I can't keep my eyes off you. Are my gazes unbearable?
Me: Perhaps not.
I said that after second thoughts. I was fooling myself. I wanted his eyes on I and only I.
Me: I believe it only means one thing.
Jama: Which is?
Me: Hmm… it can only mean that I'm unbearably pulchritudinous.
Jama: I'm glad you feel the same way that I do. I've never had a view so priceless.

I cleared my throat and looked right into his eyes.
Me: Come on…you're a model.
Jama: Woah…who told you?
Me: Does it matter? You know what I do, and I should know what you do.
Jama: You're right. Yes, I am a model. I love what I do. Even though it can be a lot to deal with at times.
Me: I predicted. Tell me then…your following is mostly girls. Beautiful, curvy women. How am I ever going to be sure they're not having my 'husband' somewhere in the world while he has his work trips?
Jama: So…you are going to marry me?
Me: The question is more a hypothetical one more than anything. Please answer.
Jama: Dad is giving me a large portion of his stake from both the companies which is one thing I have always wanted. Modelling is no longer going to be a career of interest.
Me: I hope you know…I'm not saying you should quit modelling. I'm not an insecure girl.
Jama: Why would you be insecure? You have all the features every woman would die for.

Truth is…I was insecure. I saw the girls who follow him. Tempting if you ask me but he struck me as a man who valued discipline.

The waiter served us the main dish, which was feta mash and tomahawk steak with shiraz.
Jama: Enjoying your wine? Your meal?
Me: Yep.
Jama: that's great. If you don't, I'll gladly call the waitron.
Me: No need.
I stared at him, now, with so many questions to ask. I looked away and continued to enjoy my meal.
Jama: I'm enjoying this dinner with you.
Me: Same hey…
Jama: Okay
He paused eating and looked at me.
Jama: What's the matter?
Me: I have questions. So many questions about you.
Jama: We're here for that.
He reached for my hand, and I felt weak in the knees.

I cleared my throat and slowly moved my hand from underneath his. Before I lost my mind.
Jama: Okay. Shoot. Ask me anything you want to know.
Me: Who are you? In details please.
Jama: Okay, that's quite simple. My name is Jama Ngcobo. I was born in Durban, Umhlanga. I'm 32 years old. Uhm…Oh, mom is Xhosa, and dad is Zulu. I can speak both, but I prefer Xhosa coz I'm fonder of mom than anyone else in my family. I have two siblings, an older sister, Khango which is Khangelani in full and my younger brother, Bandile. I have a BCom law degree which I have never utilized. I never had to. I'm a super model and have worked with so many opulent brands. International brands too.
Me: I know. I saw most of your work. It's amazing.
Jama: How did you know. Oh…I forgot. You stalked me.
Me: I'm sorry. I just had to.
Jama: It's fine, I guess. I did the same.
Me: oh…I see. Fair enough. You…have a partner? A woman in your life?
Jama: Not quite.
Me: What's that supposed to mean? The question is close ended; hence I expect the answer to either be a yes or no.
Jama: I have a sneaky link. I do not consider that a relationship. Do you?
Me: What's a sneaky link?
Jama: What? You don't know what a sneaky link is? Are you just pulling my leg?
Me: No. I don't know what that is.
Jama: Wow…A sneaky link is more like a friend with benefit. Simply a sexual relationship between two people. Nothing more. No love or emotions attached.
Me: What? Wow. I thought those kinds of relationships are a myth. Clearly, they're not.
Jama: you've never had a sneaky link?
Me: I've only had two relationships in my whole existence.
Jama: one of them being your current one?
Me: Yes.
Jama: So…you have a body count of 2?
Me: No
I laughed out loud.
Me: I have a body count of zero.
Jama: What do you mean? In this generation? This day and age? Stop playing. No need to hide your body count.
Me: I'm not. I'm virgin.
His eyes were wide open. His jaws on the floor.

He cleared his throat as though he was slightly choking on his meal. He sipped his wine.
Jama: Wow. I'm flabbergasted.
He nodded.
Jama: Speaking about that…how serious is your current relationship?
Me: very.
Jama: Okay, but do you understand he has to go soon? I mean we need to do something about him. We are getting married.
Me: No, we're not.
Jama: You're not impressed? We can do another date. I am a patient man. This will work. I don't mean to pressure you. I mean for us to know each other better, have the matrimony of your dreams because you matter more and then have a warm family of ours. I see more than a beautiful lady in you. I see a wife. One I wish to honour. You deserve to be well taken care of. Let me be the one to do it.
There was something fragile in his eyes as he held my hand. More than that, he was reassuring me, making a promise.

To be frank, he seemed and sounded sincere. It was in his voice and the far depth of his eyes. His pupils brightened as he spoke of the future he was planning for us. I was sold yet I felt for Yandani. If I deeply fell for this man, he would really have to go. That's something I had never imagined happening before Jama. Before this date.

I imagined a future with Yandani, countless times. He protected me from so much havoc. He shielded me at times when I felt most alone. When I was falling into depression and severe anxiety, he held my hand and gave me the courage to keep my head up. He had hope for us both. Him too, dreamed of a fairytale of our own.

Now, here I was being an absolutely obtuse woman. But it wasn't my aim. He had this irresistible magnetic aura. I couldn't figure what it was or how to handle it. My heart was falling for Jama.