your money instead of just blowing it, or rather sending it to all your hard-up relatives. Stocks, shares, where to invest, so you’d have some change to throw around. And build a house in Monrovia.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okaaaay, fine. Thank you mister investment banking hotshot. Not like you made me millions.”
He cocked one shoulder and let it drop, nonchalant. “I try. Come to think of it, you never okayed this purchase with me. Although as far as assets go, you did yourself a solid.” He caressed the bonnet again. “But for a woman who’s picked my brain as often as you have, I’m surprised at how liquid you are. You oughta be more careful.”
“Look, don’t disrupt my evening to give me another Rich Dad, Poor Dad lecture.” Gently, she shoved him away from the Chrysler. “And for someone who’s been in bed with me as often as you, I’m shocked you’d question my agile liquidness.”
“Ahhaaa, I see what you did there. You can make those jokes but I can’t.”
“Yep, ’cause I’m the girl,” Vee sniggered, till a thought cruelly squashed it. The Valiant was another fly in her ointment. People are wondering, for instance, how you can afford a ride like that, Chlöe’s voice whispered in the ear of her subconscious. Damn that nosy redhead. Keeping abreast of current affairs was one thing, but did she have to be so thorough?
“Cricket, what’s wrong?”
She snatched the cell off the driver’s seat and locked up. Joshua reached over and turned her by the chin. Vee smacked his hand away. “Juju, cut it out, it’s nothing.”
His face soured. “Can you cut that out? You do know there’s an infamous local politician with that very same nickname. Before people think we’re associated.”
“Nonsense. I started calling you that long before Julius Malema misappropriated it, so it stays. You need to stop that Cricket thing.”
“Never.”
In tandem they slowed to a stroll, in tacit agreement their exchange deserved prolonging. He flanked her at a respectful but protective distance, alongside but slightly behind. A few times he forgot himself, raised an arm, then quickly lowered it with a regretful smile. Vee panged for his usual proprietary hand snuggled in the small of her back and clearly so did he.
Then they entered Beluga’s atmosphere and Titus’s dimple lit the foyer at her approach, and she remembered why she’d devised the rules. So things wouldn’t disintegrate from complicated to meltdown. Yet … a stubborn knot twisted beneath her ribs.
They hovered, waiting to be seated. The two men what’s-upped with sufficient graciousness, not quite like old buddies but enough to signal safe airspace. Titus’s frown of confusion cleared up a tad too quickly, and Vee soon saw why. “Guess who I ran into. Small world!” he exclaimed. From behind his broad hulk stepped a well-toned length of caramel, topped with a sweep of cinnamon ringlets.
Vee’s mouth soured. “Aria?”
“Vee, fantastic to see you! God, you look a-ma-zing. Haven’t changed a bit.” Swept into a one-shouldered hug and a cloud of glorious-smelling shampoo, Vee blinked as a moist peck hit her cheek.
Aria Burke laughed. “I know, craziness right? You run into my date, I run into yours …” She tucked a glossy spiral behind an ear, smearing her lips to reposition cherry gloss before she grinned. Vee tried to wrench Joshua’s gaze, resolutely nailed to the bar crowd ahead, to hers. She could barely catch his profile, but the working of his jaw signalled he was trying not to laugh.
Silence bounced around.
“Well.” Titus coated on his usual diplomacy, battling to hide his own amusement with lousy success. “Turns out we don’t have a table. There’s been a mix-up.”
“I’m soooo sorry hey,” winced the blonde, waif-thin hostess on guard by the door, her expression Capetonian-horrified at the prospect of turning away two black couples against a cheery influx of white patrons. “Like, I’m sure you did make a reservation, but it’s not in our book. It’s so hectic, sometimes things get muddled. If you’re prepared to wait a bit …”
“Beluga on a Friday. What can you do?” Titus said kindly.
“We can share a table, that’s what. Darling, I’m sure they can join us.” Aria linked her arm through Joshua’s. “It’ll be like old times. We can catch up.”
“You know what, that’s a fantastic idea,” Joshua answered, looking Vee dead on.
“Hey, I don’t mind.” Titus rubbed his hands in agreement. “Probably because I’m starving. Whatchu think my jue, you game?”
The nucleus of heat in Vee’s chest slowly started to weaponise. No she didn’t. This bony-legged bitch did not just chunk a ‘darling’ in my face.
“Why not?” she muttered.
Later, as a waitron took their orders in the crowded, chic restaurant, Joshua offered up a toast.
“To friends,” he saluted solemnly, looking round the table.
Vee all but swallowed her tongue as she raised her glass to a very long evening.
“I will strangle you! I nah say it plenty times befo–”
“The subscriber you have dialled is unavailable at present, or more likely, doesn’t give a rat’s ass. Please try again later,” Joshua droned in electronic monotone, a final beep cutting off his evil laugh.
Vee threw her phone across the bed, bunched her fists and roared. Of all skanks on the planet, Aria? Several incensed minutes later, she kicked open the bathroom door, sloughed through her nightly cleansing ritual, all the while muttering to herself. Back in the bedroom, she snatched the cell and dialled. It took an eternity to wrestle through the haze on the other end.
“Chlöe, come on man, can you please wake up and listen.” Vee yanked a baggy T-shirt over her head. “Damn, why you sleep like gina nah steal your soul?”
“Hhhhmmprrgh,” Chlöe grumbled. “Because it’s three o’clock in the morning, not because some evil spirit’s possessed me. Can’t we talk tomorrow?”
Vee checked her clock-radio and rolled her eyes. It was barely eleven. Chlöe could party any weekend into submission, but parting her from sleep was mission impossible. “No. There won’t be time. I need you packed and ready to go at six a.m. We’re taking the travel assignment at Grotto Lodge. I’ve sent Nico an email already.”
There was a rustling of covers. She pictured Chlöe shooting up in bed like a proverbial carrot-top, slumber melting away. “We’re doing what now?”
“Look, Bishop.” Vee rubbed grainy eyes, searching for the right words. “We need this. I didn’t consider this properly before, but this could be an opportunity to stay on his good side. Plus we have to play ball or –”
“Screw balls! I can’t imagine what brought this on, but allow me to remind you that we are not travel columnists. Okay? We’re not. I’ve barely been at this long enough to know what I am, but we don’t go chasing features on spa destinations.”
“Chlöe …”
“In
