CHAPTER 15
HLENGIWE
The drive back to the house feels shorter than usual. She barely notices the streetlights blurring past as she navigates the quiet suburban roads. Her mind is still trapped in that small circle of light on the office rug, replaying the tone of Gatsha’s voice.
She pulls into the driveway and kills the engine, sitting in the darkness for a moment. The house looms before her, but for the first time in months, the silence waiting inside doesn’t scare her.
She lets herself in, walks up the staircase and begins to unbutton her blazer. She drops it onto the couch in her bedroom and pauses. A faint, masculine scent drifts up from the fabric.
She picks up the blazer, brings it to her nose and inhales deeply. The scent is grounding, warm, and comforting. A small, involuntary smile touches her lips as she remembers the way his hand felt on her shoulder like an anchor.
The reality of it hits her and she pulls the blazer away from her face as if it had burned her. Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head vigorously, her heart beginning to beat with guilt.
“What are you doing, Hlengiwe?” she whispers to the empty room, her voice harsh and reprimanding. “Get a grip and focus.”
She moves quickly now, stripping off the rest of her clothes and tossing them into the laundry basket as if trying to get rid of the evening’s energy. She steps into the ensuite and turns the shower on. She stands under the water for a long time, letting the hot water wash away the scent of the depot, the spicy food, and the lingering warmth of Gatsha’s touch. She scrubs her skin until it’s pink, trying to reset the boundaries she felt slipping in that office.
Once she is dried and dressed in her pajamas, she climbs into the bed that still feels too wide. She reaches for the nightstand and picks up the framed photograph of her and Funani. It was taken at their anniversary dinner a year ago; he was laughing at something she had said, his eyes crinkled with genuine joy.
She traces the line of his jaw with her thumb, her eyes filling with sting of tears.
“I miss you,” she whispers into the shadows, her voice cracking. “I miss you so much it hurts to breathe. Please don’t be angry with me. I’m just trying to survive.”
She clutches the frame to her chest, curling into a ball on her side of the bed. The image of Gatsha’s supportive face flickers in her mind once more, but she shuts her eyes tight, forcing herself to focus on the memory of Funani’s laugh.
GATSHA
He stands in the middle of the depot yard, his boots crunching on the gravel as he watches a team of mechanics struggle with the hydraulic lift of a flatbed trailer. It is three days since the night on the office floor, and the atmosphere between him and Hlengiwe has shifted from wary professionalism to a strange, magnetic synchronicity.
Every time they pass in the hallway, there is a beat of hesitation, a look that lasts a second too long. He finds himself noticing the small things, the way she drinks her tea, the specific sound of her laugh when she’s talking to the drivers, and the sharp intelligence she brings to every conversation. He is drawing closer to her, and the terrifying part is that he has stopped reminding himself it’s just a game.
“The paperwork for the first three trucks has been flagged,” he says, walking into Hlengiwe’s office without knocking. “The DRC customs officials are claiming the copper export permits are outdated. They’ve impounded the vehicles. If those trucks sit at the border for more than forty-eight hours, the fines will eat our entire profit margin for the month.”
Hlengiwe stands up from her desk, walks over to the large map of the SADC region pinned to the wall.
“They’re fishing for a bribe, Gatsha. We both know how this works,” she says.
“Probably,” he agrees, stepping up beside her. He points to the border crossing on the map. “But we can’t afford to pay for it. If we start paying now, every official from here to Kolwezi will have their hand out for the next five years. We have to handle this legally, but we have to do it fast.”
Hlengiwe turns to face him, their shoulders inches apart. The proximity sends a jolt through his chest, but he keeps his focus on the crisis.
“I have a contact in the Department of Trade and Industry,” Hlengiwe says, “If I can get a letter of support verifying our status as a strategic partner, we can bypass the local customs office and go straight to the regional director. I need you to get the original transit logs to the border by tomorrow morning. Can you get a courier there in time?”
He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. He likes the way she thinks. She doesn’t just see the problem but sees the chess board.
“I’ll fly there myself if I have to. I’ll take the company light-wing and land at the private strip near the border. If you get that letter, I’ll be standing on their doorstep with the documents before they even open for breakfast.”
“It’s a risk,” she warns, her gaze softening as she looks at him. “The roads near that border aren’t safe at night.”
“I’d go anywhere to make sure you don’t lose your smile again,” he says, the words slipping out before he can filter them.
Hlengiwe’s mouth parts in surprise. ”Just come back in one piece,” she finally manages to say.
“I’ve handled worse,” he says, and for a moment, the conversation isn’t about trucks but the fact that she’s worried for him.
She sighs, “I can’t believe this is happening. Not now when I finally felt like I was standing on my own feet and now this.
“We’re a team, Hlengi. You handle the suits in Pretoria, and I’ll handle the boots on the ground. We aren’t letting this contract slip through our fingers.”
She nods, “Then let’s get to work. I’ll start making the calls.”
NARRATED
With everything that is happening at the depot, Hlengiwe manages to squeeze a dinner date with Thabile at a restaurant in Sandton. Thabile is already there, halfway through a glass of deep red Merlot.
“Finally,” she says as Hlengiwe sits down. She doesn’t offer a hug or a smile. “I was beginning to think I’d have to file a missing persons report just to get a word with you.”
Hlengiwe sighs, leaning back as the waiter pours her water. “I’m sorry, Thabile. The DRC contract is falling apart. The border officials have impounded the fleet, the bank is breathing down my neck, and Gatsha is currently on a flight to Lubumbashi to handle the fallout. My head is spinning.”
“Gatsha is in the DRC?” Thabile’s voice snaps. She sets her glass down a little too hard. “And let me guess, you were the one who sent him? Or did he offer to be your knight in shining armor?”
Hlengiwe frowns, sensing the shift in temperature. “It was a joint decision. He knows the ground team better than I do. Why are you so tense? I thought you wanted this deal to succeed as much as we do.”
“You’ve been back for a week and suddenly you’re ‘we.’ You and Gatsha. Late nights at the office, secret strategy meetings, eating takeaway on the floor like teenagers.”
Hlengiwe feels her face heat up. “How do you…
“I have eyes, Hlengiwe! And I know Gatsha,” Thabile interrupts, her eyes flashing with a jealous fire she can no longer hide. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you lately. It’s not the way a man looks at a business partner. It’s the way a man looks at a prize he’s trying to steal.”
Hlengiwe shakes her head, trying to maintain her composure. “You’re being ridiculous, there is nothing happening between us.”
“Isn’t there?” Thabile laughs bitterly, a sound that makes the diners at the next table glance over. “You think you’re so smart, Hlengiwe. You think you’re investigating the truth but you’re just falling into the same trap every other woman does when a man like Gatsha decides to be ‘kind.’ You’re so desperate for a hero that you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with.”
Hlengiwe feels her face heat up, her grip tightening on her water glass. “Gatsha is doing his job, Thabile. He is protecting the business while I find my feet. I don’t see why that warrants this bitterness.”
“Bitterness? No honey, it’s an observation. You’re playing the grieving widow during the day, but at night? At night you’re sitting on rugs and sharing secrets with a man who has been waiting for Funani to get out of the way for a decade. It’s pathetic, really. You’re supposed to be this sophisticated, untouchable woman, but you’re just another project for him. He’s grooming you, Hlengi and you’re letting him.”
“Mind your tongue, Thabile,” Hlengiwe says, “And let’s get one thing very clear; we are not friends. You are the legal counsel for Nhlapho Logistics. You are an employee of the estate I represent. My personal life, my late nights, and who I choose to sit on a rug with are none of your concern. You are here to handle contracts, not to audit my character.
Know your place and if I hear you speak of my husband’s partner in that tone again or if you dare suggest I am someone’s ‘project’, I will find a new firm to handle the Nhlapho accounts by morning. Am I clear?”
“Perfectly clear, madam CEO,” Thabile says, the title dripping with sarcasm. She sets her glass down and begins to gather her items. “You want me to mind my place? Fine. You think you know everything that’s happening in your company? You think you’re the only woman he’s ‘protecting’? You are in for a rude awakening and I cannot wait.”
Thabile stands up, draping her coat over her arm and walks away.
To be continued
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