Cheryl Ntumy
Lucky in Love
SAPPHIRE PRESS
For my Money Guy
1
“Welcome to Paradise,” Lucky Nthini whispered as she pushed open the doors of the building she had worked in for the last five years.
There was something magical about the showroom of the Chemtex warehouse at dawn. Slivers of reddish light slipped in through the blinds, spilling over the rolls of fabric, and the whole building seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for the day to begin.
Chemtex was an internationally recognised textile company and Lucky was proud to be the head of design and technology – or D&T as the staff called it. Although it was the Pretoria-Johannesburg traffic that brought her to the Midrand warehouse so early each morning, she was always eager to get to work. Chemtex was so well known for its cheerful working environment that the industry had dubbed it “Paradise”.
She walked across the floor, running her hand along the fabric on display, relishing the different textures. Lucky loved the way they felt against her skin. The scratchiness of tweed, the liquid softness of pure silk; the seductive, grown-up allure of lace. It was why she had chosen textile design over her parents’ dream career path for their only daughter – medicine.
Lucky had almost forgotten that she wasn’t alone until she heard Randy Thompson clearing his throat. He worked in the Chemtex labs, and he and Lucky lived in the same block of flats in Fourways. They drove to work together each day, alternating cars. That morning they had arrived in Lucky’s Audi.
“Are we making love to the extra-stretch cotton blends again?” he asked.
She smiled. “Don’t start.”
“Seriously, doll, this has got to stop,” he said firmly, placing one hand on her shoulder. “Falling in love with fabric – even if it is the prettiest fabric south of the equator – is not ayoba.”
Lucky heaved a theatrical sigh and threw the back of her hand against her forehead in a lovesick pose. “I can’t help myself. Every time I see those exquisite brocades, my heart melts!”
Randy laughed and swatted her arm. “Silly. I’m concerned about you, and you’re making jokes.” He linked his arm through hers and marched her out of the room. “You’re not going to find love among these walls, Lucky. You need to get out there.” He waved a hand at the windows as they walked past, heading towards the lift.
“I like it better in here,” she replied wryly.
Randy sighed. “That’s the problem.”
He was always trying to convince her to get into the dating scene, but Lucky found the idea of hunting for men distasteful. She wanted her road to love to be guided by the hand of God, not flirty glances and a few glasses of wine.
“The new CFO’s coming today,” she remarked, eager to change the topic.
“Lord help us. Though I hear he’s kind of hot,” Randy added with a sly smile.
Lucky wrinkled her nose. “A hot money guy? Is that even possible?”
The last CFO had resigned without warning, creating a curious buzz among industry insiders. Rumour had it that she’d fallen out with the CEO, Kgosana Sedibe, but Lucky didn’t buy it. Who could fall out with a man like Kgosana? Everyone loved him; he was bubbly, loyal, fair and sympathetic to his employees’ needs.
The lift opened and Lucky and Randy stepped into the dark corridor. Lucky reached for the switch and the corridor was flooded with fluorescent light.
“I’ve got to run,” said Randy with a sigh. “I’m supposed to test the dust-repellent coating and I still have a million details to take care of.” He yawned.
“I told you it was a bad idea to have a Leon Schuster movie marathon on a weeknight,” Lucky said, wagging a finger at him. “Now look at you!”
“Oh, whatever, Miss In-bed-by-ten.” Randy flashed an insolent grin. “At least I’m not resorting to fondling fabric.”
“Hey!”
Randy chuckled. “See you later, doll. I’ll tell you when I’m ready to leave, okay?” He winked and hurried off.
Lucky shook her head at his retreating figure, then turned towards the design studio. It was empty, but the designers had left their work out, knowing she’d want to have a look at it. She walked around the studio, studying the small pieces of paper cut in the shape of fabric swatches. There was some good rough work coming up, but she wouldn’t expect anything less.
She moved on to the printing room, checking the silk screens for dust and scratches, then went to the weaving room to see the work that was still on the looms. So far, so good. There were still a few weeks to go before they would be ready to show their newest material, but she wanted everything to be perfect.
By the time she headed back towards the studio the designers had started to trickle in. She greeted everyone warmly, made a few constructive comments about their work and then left them to it. She had a major international textiles convention coming up and there was a lot of preparatory work to do.
Lucky’s office was upstairs with the other executive offices, above the display room. There were times when she missed working down in the studio where all the action was, but she had earned her position and she loved it.
She had barely sat down behind her desk when her cellphone rang. It was Sizamile, or Siza, as everyone called him – one of her four brothers.
“Morning, Lucky Charm,” he said brightly. “How’s my baby sister?”
Lucky rolled her eyes and smiled. She had tried for years to get her brothers to stop making puns on her name, but her protests fell on deaf ears. She never knew which nickname her siblings would use on the rare occasions when she got to see them. Siza was the worst. As the family comedian, he considered it his duty to mock her every chance he got.
“I’m good, Siza. How are Zihle and the kids?”
“Zihle is beautiful and the kids are impossible, as usual. Listen, I’m in Jozi for a couple of days and I thought we could meet up. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Lucky’s smile widened. “Of course! What are you doing tomorrow?”
“I’m free in the evening, as luck would have it.” Her brother chuckled.
Lucky groaned. “That was terrible, even for you.”
“Luckily I have until tomorrow to improve,” he replied with a fiendish cackle.
“Siza!”
“I know, I’m hilarious. Got to go, Lucky Charm – I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
Lucky hung up and shook her head. At thirty-three, Siza was the youngest of the boys and six years older than Lucky. Although he was the one who teased her the most, they had a special bond and she was looking forward to spending time with him. He lived in Port Elizabeth, just a short drive from their parents’ house, and they hadn’t seen each other since Easter – two months ago.
Besides being the baby of the family, Lucky also looked nothing like her brothers. They had all inherited their father’s muscular build and small, slanted eyes, while she was of average height and slender, with big, expressive eyes and a wide smile. She wore her hair in a no-fuss brush cut.
It was almost half past eight when the new CFO arrived. Lucky looked up from the portfolio she was preparing for the convention. There was the sound of excited voices in the corridor and a moment later Lucille, the deputy head of PR and marketing, stuck her head around Lucky’s door.
“The golden child is here,” she said with a wry grin. “Aren’t you coming to bask in his glory?”
“Do I detect a little envy?” asked Lucky.
“What can I say? I would love to have people describe me as ‘a financial brain to