“Eish, T, she was asking me about varsity and if I had everything that I needed. That’s how it came up. Thanks so much, sis; I just got an alert that the money’s in my account.”
“No problem, bro. But remember to call me about these things, because Mama goes into panic mode. You know how overprotective she is.”
“I will, sis . . . So tell me, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just busy sorting out my thesis.”
Just then, the communications intern knocked on her office door. Thando smiled and signalled with her free hand for her to enter. The young woman obeyed.
“S’phiwe, I have to go, I’ll chat to you later. Toodleloo.”
The intern smiled as Thando ended the call.
“Have a seat, Busi. What can I do for you?”
The girl handed her a travel reimbursement form and sweetly asked, “Would you mind signing my form, please?”
“Oh, this is for the training in Joburg. How did it go?” Thando asked while signing. The head of the communications department was off sick for the next three days, so Thando had to sign miscellaneous documents, being her boss’s right-hand woman.
“It was okay,” Busi replied. “Most of the stuff I already knew from varsity. It was like a recap session for me.”
“That’s the problem with some of these courses; they don’t really teach you anything new. Next time, ask for their list of courses and pick the ones that you know you can gain from.”
Thando handed back the form. “By the way, I read your piece on the literacy programme. Well done, it was very well written.”
Busi beamed at the compliment. “Thank you so much,” she said as she headed for the door and left.
Thando opened her diary to check if she had to attend any meetings and saw that her day wasn’t going to be hectic at all. She had completed the stories for the organisation’s bi-monthly newsletter, so it was just a matter of submitting the copy to the design and layout team. She decided that after submitting the document, she would work on her thesis and then hit the gym in the evening to unwind.
She hoped that Mandla wouldn’t be there, considering how dazed he made her feel. Last night she had dreamt about him, and what a sweet dream it had been.
“Get out of my head!” she whispered, slamming her diary shut.
* * *
That evening as Thando entered the gym, lo and behold, Mandla was right there on one of the stationary bikes. All the others were occupied, except for the one next to him. Thando’s routine included warming up first with twenty minutes of cycling before using the gym equipment, so she had no other option but to use the only available bike.
She took a deep, steadying breath, composing herself before marching straight to the bike. She mumbled “Hello” without making eye contact and mounted the bike as if she was ready for a cycling match.
Mandla turned to face her and instantly broke into his charming smile.
“Hi,” he said with an element of surprise in his voice. “You never did tell me your name.”
Without facing him, she replied, “It’s Thando. Thando Msewu.”
Pedal, pedal, pedal.
“Thando. That’s a pretty name. My sister’s name is Thando. She loves to laugh. In fact, all the Thandos I know love to laugh. I suppose you’re the exception.”
She gave him a piercing look.
“Oh my, you looked at me! How can someone with such pretty almond-shaped eyes look so angry?”
He went silent, waiting for her response. She felt his gaze dancing all over her body and for the first time she became conscious of the fact that her gym outfit was somewhat revealing. Granted, she was wearing a training bra and old baggy sweat pants that looked unattractive in her opinion, but her entire midriff was exposed. After months of dedication to her exercise regimen, she was proud of her flat tummy and didn’t feel the need to hide it when exercising.
Agh, let him look, she thought to herself, there’s no harm in it.
“You look very good,” he said, interrupting her internal dialogue. “I can tell you work out a lot. But I’m glad you’ve kept your African assets. You’re very well shaped.”
“Look, if you’re trying to get on my nerves, you’re doing a great job. Now do me a favour and get your ogling eyes back in their sockets,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t ogling. I was merely appreciating your physique. I didn’t mean to sound forward,” Mandla replied solemnly.
The truth was, his comment had sounded sincere and not disrespectful at all. But his attention was beginning to make her feel nervous and giddy at the same time, and she couldn’t wrap her head around that.
They continued to cycle as though no exchange had taken place at all.
Pedal, pedal, pedal.
After a while Thando turned to look at Mandla and realised that she had been unnecessarily nasty to him.
She faced him and said, “I’m sorry.”
He turned to face her with an expression of shock at first, and then his face eased into a smile.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have gone on about you looking angry. And I shouldn’t have spoken about African assets and all that. It was f-f-forward of me.”
He had a slight stutter! She hadn’t expected him to have a speech impediment. For some reason, it endeared him to her. She smiled shyly and started to pedal a little slower.
“Many have claimed that I look angry when I’m focused on something. I guess it’s just my face.”
“You have a pretty face, though. Can I say that? I’m sorry, I’m being f-forward again.”
“No. Thanks for the compliment.”
They both fell silent, just looking at each other and chuckling at the ice finally being broken.
“So what do you do, Thando?”
“I work for the government. I’m a team leader in the communications department, and I’m also working on my doctorate in media.”
“Wow,” he replied as though she had just said something awe-inspiring, “that means you’re supersmart.”
She laughed. “I just love what I do, that’s all. When you love something, you excel in it.”
“That’s true.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a businessman.”
“That’s not very specific, Mandla. It could mean you’re a drug peddler or a spaza shop owner.”
He laughed, tilting his chin up and revealing pearly white teeth. He is almost perfect, Thando thought.
“I’m in the trading business.”
“What do you trade?”
“My, my! I’ll bet you m-majored in journalism. I feel like I’m being interrogated.”
“Well, once you stop being evasive, I’ll let you off the hook.”
“Okay,” he conceded. “We do things like cement manufacturing, food processing, freight. That sort of thing. We operate in thirteen African countries and we’re spread all over Europe as well, which affords me the opportunity to travel quite a bit. I’m the group finance director at the Angotte Group.”
“Impressive. Also sounds