cringed. How could she forget? After a whirlwind fling with the smouldering French artist, she had almost packed everything up and run off to Europe with him. Then the magic had worn off and she had realised that it would be difficult to live with a man who barely spoke English. She had also remembered the tiny detail of her conservative Sotho parents, who wouldn’t exactly have given her their blessing.
She sighed. “What about him?”
“Remember how incredible you thought he was?” Reneilwe leaned across the table. “Now let’s go back a year or so, to Thulani. Remember him?” she asked her twin.
“Ugh.” Rethabile gave a theatrical shudder. “I’d rather not.”
“That’s only because you found out he was a con artist,” Ellen pointed out. “But at first you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.”
“You said he was exciting and passionate and romantic,” added Rebecca.
Rethabile frowned. Why did those words sound so familiar?
“It was exactly the same thing you said about André,” said Reneilwe.
“And Ras,” said Ellen.
Right. That explained it. Rethabile didn’t like where this was going. She got the sinking feeling that her friend and sisters might have a point.
“Are you starting to notice the pattern here?” Reneilwe’s tone softened. “You meet these guys, get carried away by their dynamic personalities and think you’re in love. We could go all the way back to high school and there would be no difference.”
Rethabile was in no mood to rehash her tainted past. “I was young. We all make mistakes in love, don’t we?” She looked at Reneilwe, who was happily married to her childhood sweetheart. “Well, almost all of us.”
“These aren’t mistakes, Thabi,” said Ellen. “This is a bad habit, and it’s not going away. You’re twenty-nine now! Don’t you want to find someone wonderful?”
“Of course I do,” sighed Rethabile. “I’m a romantic – you know that. Is it my fault that things never work out for me?”
“Yes,” said Rebecca. Ellen and Reneilwe glared at her. “You’re too much of a dreamer. You think every guy you meet is The One.”
Rethabile winced. Getting lectured by Reneilwe and Ellen was one thing, but no self-respecting adult would take advice from a teenager.
“Don’t be upset,” Rebecca pleaded, putting her hand over Rethabile’s. “We have a solution to your problem.”
Rethabile shook her head. “Please don’t set me up with one of your lecturers.”
“She’s serious,” said Reneilwe. “There is a way for you to finally meet the right guy without having to kiss every frog in the country.”
Rethabile was doubtful. Any idea of Reneilwe’s was bound to be boring or restrictive, or both. But then again, her twin did meet her soul mate at thirteen and now had her happily-ever-after. “I’m listening.”
There was a long, dramatic pause before Reneilwe spoke again. “You have to take a temporary vow of celibacy. For three months.”
Rethabile laughed. She had never heard anything so ridiculous in her life. “Thanks. I really needed the comic relief.”
“This is serious, Thabi.” Ellen gave her a stern look. “It’s for your own good. Three months of alone time and you’ll have a whole new perspective on romance.”
Rethabile’s smile faded. She looked at Rebecca, then Reneilwe, then Ellen. None of them were smiling. They looked concerned and expectant. Rethabile understood that they were trying to look out for her, but she wasn’t a child and she wasn’t going to let anyone dictate how she should live her life. “Forget it.”
“I told you,” Rebecca said to Reneilwe. “She can’t do it. She’s never been single for longer than a week!”
“You’re right,” said Ellen with a sigh. “Never mind, Thabi. It was a long shot. We all know there’s no way you could restrain yourself for that long.”
“Haai!” Rethabile bristled. “Ema pele, I never said I couldn’t do it, I just don’t want to. There’s a difference.”
Reneilwe offered her an indulgent smile. “It’s okay. You don’t have to prove anything to us. We know you can’t fight your nature.”
“My nature?” Rethabile cried. “I can go without a man! But what happens if I meet a really great guy? Am I supposed to ignore him?”
Reneilwe was prepared for that question. “If you meet a guy you like, you can hang out for the first month. No kissing. No sex for the first three months. Every guy who asks you out should know from the start that he’s going to have to work for it.”
There was a long silence as Rethabile digested the suggestion. Maybe three months wouldn’t be so bad. It would give her a chance to focus on work. Besides, didn’t people always say that men wanted what they couldn’t have? Telling them she was celibate would make her irresistible.
Hmm, she liked that.
2
I knew this was a bad idea, Rethabile thought to herself. What was I thinking?
She stood at the door of a restaurant in a crisp white shirt and black pencil skirt, her hair pulled back with a clasp. The restaurant was closed to the public for a Grand Gesture event, a glitzy surprise engagement party. It was Criselda’s baby, but one of the ushers had pulled out at the last minute and Rethabile had offered to help.
She smiled and welcomed the guests, showing them through the dimly lit entrance and into the main dining area at the back. So far she had received three subtle come-ons, and she was kicking herself for agreeing to Reneilwe’s crazy plan. What kind of fool would choose celibacy when there were so many potential Mr Rights out there?
“Hi – is this the Hamilton party?”
Rethabile looked up into a pair of dark-brown eyes topped by thick brows. Beneath them was a strong nose, broad cheeks and full lips. Her vision zoomed out to take in the full picture. The man was in his late thirties. He had the neatest brush cut she had ever seen and a flawless goatee. He wore a black dinner jacket over a white shirt and black trousers. Her gaze travelled back to his eyes and she almost tripped over her own feet.
“Yes,” she said, when she finally found her voice. “Uhm . . . you must be . . . ” She glanced at the clipboard, annoyed with herself for dropping the ball. “Uhm . . . ” Sedibe, Daniels, Khumalo. Lucas Khumalo. “Mr Khumalo.” She beamed up at him and took a deep breath, which made her top button pop open.
Lucas Khumalo’s eyes dropped to her chest, then wandered back to her face. He smiled and raised an eyebrow. For the first time in her life, Rethabile felt self-conscious. She raised the clipboard to cover up the small V of exposed flesh. “Welcome. Please come in. The party is this way.”
As he brushed past her she caught a whiff of his aftershave. She closed her eyes, wishing she could wrap herself in the scent . . . and in his arms,
