The Vow. Cheryl Ntumy S.
if she got any looser she would unravel completely. Maybe she should stick to water.
The party stretched on for a few more agonising hours. As the guests began to leave, Rethabile took up her position at the door.
Lucas was among the last to leave. “This was a first-class party,” he told her, approaching the door. “You people know what you’re doing.”
She felt her face grow hot as she thought of the way her button had popped open right before his eyes. “Thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed me – yourself! I mean . . . the party.” Oh God. She cringed.
He laughed. “Do you have a business card?”
Her heart leapt. She always carried business cards, just in case. There was no way Reneilwe could catch her out on this one – she hadn’t offered her number. She reached into her bag, produced a card and pressed it into his hand. Her fingers grazed his palm and a tingle went right through her. She thought she would collapse right there and then.
“Thank you.” He looked at the card, then pulled his own card from the inside of his jacket and handed it to her. This time she took it by the very tip, terrified that if he touched her again she would throw herself at him, vow or not.
“Good night, Rethabile. I hope we’ll meet again soon.” He flashed her another smile and sauntered off into the night.
* * *
“So you’re completely over Ras?”
Rebecca and Rethabile were relaxing in Rethabile’s Sunnyside flat.
Rethabile looked at her younger sister in mock confusion. “Ras who?”
“Good,” said Rebecca firmly, putting her feet up on the coffee table and digging into the bowl of chips in her lap. “He was a little bit creepy, anyway.”
“Noted,” said Rethabile, rolling her eyes.
“So who’s his replacement?”
Rethabile kept her eyes on the magazine she was reading. “Nobody.”
“Come on,” her sister persisted. “Let me guess – an artist. No, no – a writer.”
Rethabile scowled. “If you keep this up, I’ll change my mind about letting you stay here for the varsity holidays.” But her mouth twitched as she thought of Lucas’s sexy mouth and the even sexier things he could probably do with it.
“Aha!” Rebecca lowered her legs to the carpet and leaned forward. “There is someone. Tell me, Thabi! You know you want to.”
“Eish, wena!” Rethabile clicked her tongue in mock irritation. “I’ve taken a vow, remember? I’m off men.”
Rebecca shook her head. “He must be really hot if you’re being this secretive. When did you meet him? At that work thing last night?”
Rethabile heaved a sigh of surrender, knowing that her sister wasn’t going to let up. “Yes. It was a disaster – I stammered and made a fool of myself. All my skills went out of the window. But I think he was checking me out.”
“Of course – you’re gorgeous,” said Rebecca loyally. “And that white shirt you were wearing . . . ”
Rethabile bit her lip and frowned. “I shouldn’t have made that stupid vow! But don’t tell Reneilwe I said that,” she added, with a stern glance.
Rebecca laughed. “The vow shouldn’t hold you back. You’re allowed to hang out with guys. You just have to take it slow.”
“Right.” Rethabile pictured Lucas’s face and knew that there was no way she would be able to take it slow. “Anyway, everything happens for a reason. Maybe that’s why I lost my cool last night – so I can stay on track and keep my vow.”
“Or maybe he was just that hot,” Rebecca countered, giggling.
Rethabile threw a cushion at her just as her phone started to ring. She dug it out from in between the sofa cushions. It was an unknown number. “Hello?”
“Hi. Is that Rethabile?”
Her heart stopped. It couldn’t be. She looked at Rebecca, who was frowning in confusion. “Yes.”
“Lucas Khumalo here, from last night’s party. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
Rethabile beamed, feeling as if she were glowing from within. “No, not at all! Hi.” She just registered her sister’s knowing smirk before she slipped into her own world, where the only thing that mattered was the seductive voice at the other end of the line.
“You sound surprised to hear from me,” he laughed. “I didn’t take your card for nothing, you know.”
“Of course not,” she blurted out. “It’s just . . . I just . . . Well, I thought you might . . . you know . . . call the office or something.” She rolled her eyes at her unsophisticated response.
“But my reasons for calling are personal,” he went on. “I want to ask you to have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
Rethabile’s smile was so wide it was starting to hurt her face. Then she remembered the vow. Dinner definitely counted as romantic. Reneilwe would never let her get away with a dinner date.
“Rethabile?” A note of anxiety had crept into his voice. “Please tell me if I’m being presumptuous. I know it was a work function and maybe – ”
“Lunch,” she interjected.
There was a brief silence. “Excuse me?”
Slowly her head cleared and her confidence returned. “We can have lunch tomorrow. Our offices are in Menlyn, so it would be easier for me to meet you there.”
“Lunch is fine. One o’clock on the dot?”
“I’ll see you then.” She was thrilled to hear that the sultriness had returned to her voice. “Good night, Lucas.” She ended the call and heaved a sigh of contentment.
“You do realise that this has to be an innocent, friendly lunch, right?”
Rethabile glared at Rebecca. “Thanks for the reminder.”
Her sister grinned. “Hey, I’m on your side. I hope this one works out.”
“Me too.” Rethabile felt her stomach flip over. There was something about Lucas Khumalo that turned her into a quivering mass of overactive hormones. It was her luck that a man with that kind of sex appeal had appeared just when she decided to tame her passionate ways.
However, lunch was a safe option. There was no way she would tear his clothes off in a restaurant full of people in broad daylight. At least, she hoped not . . .
* * *
Rethabile’s heart was beating so fast, she was afraid she might have a heart attack. Just the thought of seeing Lucas again was enough to drive her to distraction. He had sent her an SMS to let her know which restaurant he was in, and she tried to walk slowly, in a dignified fashion, but she couldn’t wait to be near him.
She smoothed the red dress she had picked for the occasion. It was form-fitting, like most of her clothes, and the V-neck did wonders for her chest. She’d thrown a cropped jacket over it for the office, but as she made her way towards the restaurant she slipped the jacket off. Reneilwe hadn’t said anything about changing her wardrobe, after all.
She walked into the restaurant and her roving gaze caught him immediately. She ignored the admiring glances from other diners and walked right up to the table. The swing in her ample hips was natural; she couldn’t help it any more than she could help her small waist or smooth skin. She had always been aware of her effect on men, but at that moment the only man she cared about was staring at his phone.
“Lucas,” she breathed.
He looked up, and his expression of undisguised awe almost made her melt into the floor. “Hi.” He paused,