Читать книгу Love's courage - Mokopi Shale - Страница 5

2

Lesego wakes up from being too hot. It is broad daylight. She is tired but happy. She hasn’t received any frantic SMSs or calls, and had a rejuvenating night and day with her girlfriends who left last night to look for real parties and hook up with their men.

Lesego wonders what to do with herself. Her house is sparkling clean, her laundry is done, she doesn’t like gardening because she finds the wild look more natural. So, what to do?

She gets an SMS. R600,00 has been deposited into her account by Mr Khumoetsile.

Lesego calls her father. “Papa, can you afford this?”

“Yes, of course. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have given you the money if I couldn’t. I have to take care of your nephew and mother, you know. But I thought you should do colour prints for your presentation, and you need money for petrol, and you may want an ice cream.”

“Wow, you’re the best dad in the world . . . So the money cleared early?”

“Yes, I checked my account on the off chance, and God and the ancestors were with me.”

“Okay, let me go to town then. Thanks a lot, Daddy. Say hi to Mom and Tiro.”

“I will. Bye.”

Lesego decides to do her favourite thing – go book shopping!

* * *

Trawling the mall is Lesego’s best; she pops in at clothing stores, pervs over shoes and clothes, stares at passers-by . . . Eventually she steps into Exclusive Books and goes to the fiction section first because it tends to be cheaper. But nothing looks exciting . . . She wanders over to the health section and realises she has read most of the books there, and the others have little appeal. She decides to try the reference section; maybe she can find something to help her jazz up her presentation.

She strolls down the main aisle, looking at various titles. Hello, speak to me; I have money and I want to spend it, she thinks. When she reaches the middle of the aisle, a title catches her eye: The History of the Batswana. Yes! she thinks as she reaches out for it – at the same time as a well-manicured, masculine hand reaches for it. They pull the book out together and turn to look at each other while still holding on to it.

When their eyes meet, they both feel an electric shock going through their system. The two stare at each other for a few moments, looking each other up and down. Lesego’s gaze has the highest to go – she sees a fine specimen of masculinity: the most soulful hazel-brown eyes, set in a well-chiselled face, a long, well-shaped nose and the most luscious lips ever to be placed on a man, together with her favourite – a goatee. Eish, she thinks to herself, if it gets better than this, I’m going to turn into a hussy and get the brother’s details. Her gaze travels down unashamedly over a gracefully masculine neck with a small Adam’s apple, broad and muscled shoulders in a T-shirt that clings to well-developed pecs and a six-pack to die for.

God is great! Your wonders amaze, oh Lord, you are worthy of praise! Lesego continues to exult to herself as her gaze continues down to what looks like . . . Oops! This has gone too far, girl! she reprimands herself in her thoughts. The brother has a face, and what a face. We must do this journey again, from the bottom up . . . Oh, what a ride!

At the same time, Kenneth is doing his own checking out and his thoughts are also running riot . . . Perfect skin, caramel brown, a high forehead – a sign of intelligence; please God, say it’s so! Thick eyebrows over beautiful, large chocolate-brown eyes framed with the longest lashes he has ever seen. A dainty nose, high cheekbones, a wide and totally kissable mouth, a small chin and long, thin neck that flows into delicate, uncovered shoulders above a generous chest exposed to perfection with a heart-shaped bustier-type cotton top in a yellow that offsets her complexion – NO BRA!

Lord have mercy on the weak! Kenneth gasps to himself as he swallows hard. His gaze continues over a flat stomach with just a bit of skin showing over the top of her tight blue jeans that show off her shapely and well-rounded hips above firm thighs . . . Then he forces his gaze back up again.

They both realise they have been unabashedly checking each other out and instead of being embarrassed, the two give each other a cheeky grin.

“So, how are we to settle this?” he asks her flirtatiously.

“You could be a gentleman and just let me have it,” she responds.

Eyebrows slightly raised, but seriously tickled, he responds with a naughty smile. “Well, normally I am a gentleman, but I really need this, so I think you should let me have it.”

They both flush with desire and their eyes begin to glaze over. Their breathing becomes erratic while they stare at each other’s lips as they speak.

Lesego shakes her head to clear the haze. They are practically engaged in mild foreplay right here in the middle of a bookshop, for heaven’s sake. “Okay,” she says, “what must I do to get you to let me have the book?”

Slightly disappointed that she has become all serious, he says, “Well, this is the last copy and I honestly think I need it more than you. But I can let you have it if you promise to let me borrow it when you’re done.”

“But we hardly know each other; how do I . . . ? Oh, okay, you want my number,” she says with another cheeky grin. “You could’ve just asked. Anyway, I would’ve found a way to get yours.”

His eyebrows shoot up – he’s obviously impressed with her boldness.

“I just have a series of questions I’d like you to answer before I give you my number,” she continues. “If you answer reasonably, I’ll hand it over gladly.”

“What? An interview? You must be kidding.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said you were a gentleman.”

“I never said any such thing.”

“Look, you could ask them to order another copy, but that would probably take a while, so it all depends on how desperately you want this book,” she says, cocking her hip to one side and placing her hand on it to draw his attention down her body once more.

He takes a long breath, releases it and then says, “I want it fast, all right . . . Okay, but I would also have to ask you some questions.”

“No problem; whatever you need.”

Lesego purses her lips and sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. His eyes seem to devour her and she suddenly feels the need to fan herself.

“Right then, let’s begin,” he says.

“Fine. Are you a serial killer?”

He bursts out laughing. “Are you serious? If I were, would I tell you? Wouldn’t you just find yourself at the receiving end of my torture tools?”

“You have torture tools?” she asks, widening her eyes in a mocking way.

“Do I look like I have a need to torture women? No, I’m not a serial killer and I don’t have torture tools.”

“Do you have your own place?”

“What? This is ridiculous. Why are you asking these unrelated questions?” he asks, a little exasperated.

In reply he gets another wide-eyed look, a slight shake of the head and a small shrug while the book is waved in his face.

“Okay, fine – I own my own house.”

“Good,” she says. “That means you’re gainfully employed, then?”

He is about to argue that when she gives him the same mocking look.

“Yes, I am gainfully employed . . . Your turn now. Is there a history of mental illness in your family?”

She smiles charmingly and says, “No.”

“Have you ever stalked a man?”

She raises her eyebrows and gives him an amused look. “No, I’ve never had the time.”

“Are you gainfully employed?”

“Yes, I am gainfully employed.”

“Are you looking to get married?”

“No, not any time soon; I have too much to achieve and a husband might hold me back.”

He cocks his head, surprised at her answer. “How old are you?”

“I could be a typical female and lie, but I think the age thing is a lot of bull. I’m twenty-nine.”

“You’re very interesting. Can I have your number?”

“Sure. Give me your phone.”

He hands it to her, and while putting in her details, she says, “I won’t ask for yours. So, I leave the ball in your court, sir. Then you have the opportunity to chicken out.”

“Who says I’ll do that?”

“You’re a man. You’re probably involved and you’re probably afraid of strong women. So, it computes.”

“Wow, you’re quite cheeky.”

“Said the kettle to the pot. What’s your name, by the way?”

“Kenneth,” he says, extending his hand.

When their hands clasp, they both gasp as an electric shock of excitement travels through their arms and settles firmly in their groins. They both swallow, they both lick their lips.

“Kenny, did you find . . . Oh, sorry.” Their reverie is interrupted by a pretty woman who flashes a brittle smile at Lesego. “Who’s this?”

“This is Lesego; Lesego, meet Thandi.”

The women nod at each other.

Then Lesego coos, “I have to go,” flashing a smug look at him that says, “Was I right, or was I right?” He gives her a confused look and is about to tell her that she is wrong, when Thandi’s red nails clasp his arm and she cuddles up close to him, batting her eyelashes.

Lesego laughs at Kenneth, causing Thandi to clench her jaw in irritation, wondering if she is laughing at her. “Sorry, private joke. Your move,” Lesego says to Kenneth and gives him a wink. “Nice to meet you,” she bids Thandi farewell and walks off.

She looks like a model on a runway, but it’s no affectation; that’s just the way Lesego moves. Kenneth can’t help but check out her rear and he looks mightily impressed. Thandi snorts. He glances down her bony figure and thinks: A girl needs to eat now and then. But out loud he says, “Shall we go?”

Kenneth and Thandi head for the door. When they pass the counter, Lesego glances their way and exchanges another cheeky grin with him. She sighs and under her breath she sings to herself, “Pom-pom-pom . . . Another one bites the dust!”

* * *

Later that afternoon Lesego is lying on a lounging chair in her garden, wearing a bright green bikini and orange sarong, reading her book and listening to Marvin Gaye, when her phone’s message tone goes off. She picks it up and reads:

It’s not what you think, smarty-pants. Kenny.

She smiles, then replies:

Hao! You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m not your girlfriend, just a woman who’ll give you what you want.

She adds a cute emoticon at the end of the sentence, and as she waits for a delivery report, she saves his number into her phone.

He responds:

Cheeky! . . . I think the other one’s a stalker. She has just started working at our offices and we met up by chance last night when I was out with the boys. She somehow found out where I lived and showed up wearing very little. The only way I could get rid of her was to take her out to lunch.

Without missing a beat, Lesego shoots back:

Ao, you don’t have to explain. That’s what you get for going out with an anorexic. The starvation affects their reasoning abilities.

Kenneth bursts out laughing where he is lying on his couch, facing the garden with his large glass doors open, the Saturday paper in his lap, listening to Marvin Gaye. He types:

Lol. I told you I’m not seeing her. When can I see you though? Find you fascinating.

Lesego answers:

I’m a bit hectic at the mo and haven’t had enough time to assess whether you’re a serial killer. So you’ll have to prove you’re worthy of my trust before I agree to see you.

Ahhh! The lady’s been burned. Okay, what would convince you?’

If I told you, you would do it, but you may still be a serial killer. You’ll have to find a way yourself.

Fair enough. What you up to?

She replies:

Reading the book that introduced us. What serendipity. It’s like our ancestors conspired to introduce us to each other, using our culture as the connector.

Interesting thought. What would that mean then? That we are fated to be together? Are you hitting on me?

He smiles while adding a devil emoticon at the end of the message.

No, I’m not trying to say we were fated to meet. But maybe we’ll learn things from each other before we part ways. Like I said, I’m not looking for a long-term commitment.

So what? You only want me for my hot body?

She grins and writes:

And if I was?

You can have it. I know I want you for your hot body.

Is that all then? Just sex?

Wow, you’re blunt. No, I find you fascinating, and hot as well. Maybe you’re the full package I’ve been looking for.

This time he adds a smiling emoticon.

She feels a little flattered but quickly suppresses that and writes back:

Whoa, cowboy! Watch yourself before you promise things you can’t deliver on. I didn’t think you were impulsive. You seem so calculated.

Some opportunities only come once, so you have to strike while the iron’s hot. And you’re one red-hot iron. And I hate regrets. I’d regret never knowing.

Sweet, but I bet you say this to all the girls. I’m going now before you make me melt and break all my rules. Don’t SMS me, I’m off. Later.

The sudden ring of her phone makes Lesego start. The screen says Kenneth and she laughs, tickled by his persistence. She lets it ring a few times more before she answers and says, “I said I was going now.”

“Yes, you said I shouldn’t SMS you; you didn’t say I shouldn’t call. Plus I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Ijoo, you’re dangerous! I have to watch myself. So, what did you want to say?” she asks, trying to sound blunt.

“Well – nothing, really . . . I wanted to see what effect your voice would have on me, and whether your being would touch my soul,” he says seriously.

“What? Are you gay? You must be . . . What heterosexual male says such things?”

“One who knows who he is and isn’t afraid to express himself.”

“Okaaayyy . . . Uhm . . .”

“Are you speechless?”

“Yes, frankly,” she says, stunned. “So, tell me . . . Did my being touch your soul?”

“Uhm . . . Your voice went straight to the centre of my being. There’s something about you that I can’t put my finger on, and I’m determined to find out what it is. When can I see you? Let’s have dinner together.”

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea for me to have dinner with you. You may make me fall in love with you, and a guy as hot as you never sticks around for long. So I don’t think I can agree to seeing you.”

“Bathong! Lesego! How can you decide just like that?”

“I’m sorry, I tend to think ahead, to weigh the pros and cons and possible outcomes of all situations that I get into. And unfortunately this doesn’t bode well for me.”

“But you’re the one who isn’t looking for a long-term thing. Anyway, it’s just dinner in good company.”

“Why dinner? So you can seduce me? Why not lunch? Or even breakfast?”

“What? You think I won’t try and seduce you over breakfast or lunch?”

Lesego sighs, then laughs. “This conversation is getting out of hand. Can I go now, please?”

“Have lunch with me tomorrow and you can go,” he insists.

She quickly goes through her budget in her mind. This is a long week and payday is only on Friday . . . And he is a perfect stranger . . . And she never lets a strange man pay for her food because she doesn’t like the strings attached.

“Hello . . . Lesego? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I am thinking.”

“Ah, at least you’re considering it. That’s a good sign.”

“Listen, how about this . . . We keep talking throughout this week, and if you still find me interesting by Friday, we can meet for lunch on Saturday. By the way, I like meat. You’re not vegetarian, are you?” she asks.

“No, I also enjoy meat. Okay, your proposal seems fair. We’ll chat during the week, but I’ll still want to go out with you by Friday.”

“We’ll see. A week is a long time. You could just decide rather to go with Thandi.”

“Oh Lord, no!”

Lesego laughingly says goodbye and ends the call. Then she lies back on her lounging chair, stares at the blue sky and suddenly gets the urge to throw her hands up over her head and kick her legs in the air like an excited child.