On the House

CHAPTER 1: WHAT MBALI NEEDS

"MAKE SURE YOUR SHOULDERS are off the mat. Use your abs to pull you up."

Mbali felt the burning sensation in her abs as she crunched along with the rest of the members of her aerobics class. Why did she let her best friend, Precious, talk her into joining a fitness class? She'd never know. Yet, it was one of the best decisions she'd made to get back into shape. There was nothing wrong with working out, and Mbali had more energy in her day.

"Yoh, I think my abs are dead." Precious groaned.

Their instructor continued. "Keep going. We're almost there."

Mbali nibbled at her bottom lip. Sweat built along her hairline and she'd been grateful she tied her full curls into a bun. A messy bun now. "This is crazy."

"I don't think I'll be able to stand after this." Precious gritted her teeth.

"And... rest. You're done. Great job, everyone!" The instructor sat up on her mat as if the workout didn't affect her at all.

Mbali rubbed at her stomach.

Precious dabbed her face with a towel. "Are you excited about tonight?"

Mbali gulped her water. "I think so. I just don't want to get my hopes up for nothing."

"You really think Thulani's playing games?"

Mbali shrugged. "I hope not. I don't have time."

MBALI HUFFED WHILE her eleven-centimetre heels tapped on the tiled floor of the coffee shop. Stood up again by Thulani, her last WhatsApp to him sitting on two blue ticks with no reply. She gave him the benefit of the doubt the first time, but never again. What made things worse was that she should have listened to her woman's intuition. They didn't connect in their few conversations, but she wanted to give it time just in case. That proved wrong. She'd go with her gut.

Her thumb itched to send him a voice note telling him off, but she wouldn't. So she deleted his number. Mbali wouldn't wait around for a man to pay attention to her. She was worth more than that.

"Can I get you a refill?" the waiter asked.

"Not yet. Can I have another cake pop?" she asked, pulling out her card.

He shook his head. "It's on the house. Tiramisu, right?"

He remembered? She dismissed the thought. It was his job to remember her order. The shop took pride in customer service. Mbali bobbed her head. She returned her card to her wallet. "Are you sure? I don't want to get you into trouble."

He winked at her. "My boss won't mind." With that, he backed away to fulfil her order.

Was he flirting with her? Mbali's lips quirked up just as her phone lit up with a WhatsApp call. There was no name on the screen any more, but she knew the number she'd deleted. She let it ring out. Once it stopped, she blocked him. She'd dated his type before. She wasn't into the games. Why did most men play them, anyway?

The waiter returned with her cake pop inside a small brown paper bag. Mbali inhaled the coffee-flavoured treat. "Thank you." She eyed his nametag. Tumelo. As many times as she came in for her morning coffee, why didn't she remember his name?

When he smiled, his dimples were more apparent. Judging by his muscular arms, he worked out. His brown skin looked smooth to the touch, and Mbali's belly fluttered. Blinking, she wouldn't let him catch her staring. She bit into her cake pop and nodded in approval.

"Good?" he asked.

This was the longest time he stayed by her favourite table. Did he always stare at her the way he did now? Was she only now noticing?

Mbali swallowed. "Yes, it's my favourite."

"I know." He sat in the wooden chair across from her. "You order it almost every time you come here."

She tilted her head to the side. "You keep tabs on my order?"

He rubbed at his five o'clock shadow. "I've noticed."

Mbali adjusted in her seat. How long was he planning on sitting with her? Looking around, she noticed only a few people remaining in the coffee shop. "How long have you worked here?"

"Since the place opened."

"You've always wanted to be in the coffee business?"

"It runs in the family." Tumelo's smile grew.

Mbali scratched at her ear. What else could she ask? Did he have a girlfriend? A wife?

"What do you do?" he asked.

She exhaled. She could talk about her work. "Podcaster."

He leaned in as if intrigued. "No kidding."

"My audience is mostly single women — a lot of church girls — but I have a few men that listen in."

"What are your major topics?" Tumelo asked.

"Relationships. Self-love. Singleness. Preparing for marriage."

"Wow."

"I have my first speaking engagement in a few weeks. My show took off better than I thought."

"Nervous?" His smile reached his chocolate-brown eyes.

"I don't think I'll feel it until the night before." Mbali looked around once more. "Are you sure I'm not keeping you?"

"You're fine, Mbali."

Her lips parted. The way he said her name made her skin prickle.

Tumelo stared at the wooden table for a moment, but then he faced her. "I've wanted to talk to you for a while. To get to know you."

Her palms sweated. Was he serious? "I..."

"Surprised?" he asked.

"I didn't know."

He chuckled. "Tonight seemed perfect timing to tell you. Usually you're here in the mornings, but you're always in a hurry."

She forced a smile. "Sorry if I've been rude."

Tumelo shook his head. "No. I like it. You're running your own business. You've got a lot going on, I'm assuming."

She blew out her cheeks. "Yeah, but I want to slow down some. Take some time for me."

"Why?"

"I think I've left behind my... personal life. Then again, I may be too picky." Was that too much? She couldn't take the words back now.

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Why's that?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You know what you want."

What did he mean by that? She opened her mouth to ask, but Tumelo continued.

"I've seen you meet two dates here. They weren't serious about you," he said.

"How do you know?"

"I've played enough games to know." He sighed. "I've made mistakes, but I know what I want now."

She gave a faint smile. "Good for you."

"What about you? You know what you're looking for?"

Mbali looked upward at the ceiling fans for a second. She met Tumelo's gaze again. "I know what I won't compromise on."

He licked his lips. Mbali's breath hitched. Was he going to ask her out? Was this all in her head? Sure, he was flirting with her, but that meant nothing. Men had flirted with her before.

"A woman who'll stand her ground. I like it," he said.

She brushed a curl away from her face. "Good." Did she just say that? Yes. Was she flirting with him? Mbali swallowed.

"So... if I asked you out, what would you say?" Tumelo asked.

Mbali's knee bobbed underneath the table, but she stopped it with both hands. "I don't know. Are you asking me?"

His look turned serious. His eyes focused on her as if he were looking into her soul. "Will you go out with me, Mbali?"

Her lips parted. "Where?"

It was his turn to look around the coffee shop. "Here. Tomorrow night."

Mbali blinked. Yoh. This was happening.

MBALI CUT THE ENGINE of her Toyota Corolla. Going out with Tumelo? She never imagined it in a million years. In her agreeing to meet him, she'd let go of her list. She'd already changed her dating life in the last year.

When she was younger, Mbali set her eyes on dating lawyers, doctors, or even professional athletes. It was about what they could give her — the German car, the house in a golf estate, a lobola her aunts could boast about. Her heart wasn't genuine, so it wasn't a surprise when her previous relationships didn't work out.

Thank goodness she had matured over the years. Two weeks from turning thirty had her re-evaluating her preferences. Though she worked to grow in her career, her personal life showed she had more growing to do on the inside. Mbali wanted a genuine relationship. It shouldn't matter to her what a man did as long as he showed character. Was that settling?

Tumelo was a barista, though there was nothing wrong with his profession. He did his job well as if he owned the place. From what she noticed, Tumelo was a gentleman. He appeared interested in her. Mbali wouldn't write him off without giving him a chance. Her days of prejudging were over.

Approaching the front door, she noticed the closed sign facing the glass. Knocking on the door, she bounced from one heeled foot to another. Then Tumelo opened the door. His royal blue collared shirt complemented his skin, but Mbali shifted her eyes back to his chiselled face.

"You look great." He invited her inside and locked the door behind her.

"Thank you." She wouldn't tell him that she changed her outfit three times before settling on a knee-length coral sundress.

Tumelo walked over to the counter and served her a Tiramisu cake pop. Mbali didn't hesitate to taste her favourite dessert.

"I love this," she said once she swallowed.

"Dinner is served." Tumelo led her to the centre of the shop.

How did she miss the table set for a candlelight dinner? Biting her lower lip, she stared at Tumelo. He looked even more handsome outside of his uniform. He pulled out her chair, and she settled into her seat. The meal of the evening? Smoked salmon and fine green beans. Her mouth watered.

A flush of adrenaline tingled throughout Mbali's body. How did she not notice this man before? Was she that wrapped up in her work? Distracted by the other shallow men in her life pursuing her?

"Like it?" Tumelo asked.

She couldn't hide her grin. "Yes. This is amazing. How were you able to do this? Did you ask your boss to use the shop tonight?"

He poured her a glass of rooibos iced tea. "I know the owner so it's no problem."

Mbali narrowed her eyes at him. "Tumelo?"

He winked at her.

"Fine, don't tell me." She covered her lap with her serviette. After they said grace, they ate in a comfortable silence.

"Did you hear from him?"

"What? Who?" Her eyebrows rose.

"The man from last night. The one who didn't show up." He wiped his full lips with his serviette.

"Yes, but I blocked his number."

Tumelo laughed.

"What?"

"You don't play games."

She shook her head slightly. "I've done that enough to last me a lifetime." Tuning in to the radio in the background, she heard John Legend's "You & I (Nobody in the World)." Mbali's grin grew wider.

"You like this song?"

She bobbed her head in response. "Another favourite."

Tumelo rose from his seat, his chair scraping the floor. "Dance with me?"

She smiled up at him. "Yebo baba."

Mbali placed her hand in his and they danced off to the side of their table. She didn't look him in the eyes. He was too close. His woodsy cologne filled her lungs. His muscular arms held her to his hard chest. If only he didn't lower his head to rest his cheek along her temple.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. Why did she fit into his embrace? Tumelo didn't let go of her as the song played. The music swelled as John Legend's voice filled the room. When the music stopped, Tumelo drew back to face her. His arms remained locked around her waist.

Mbali couldn't look away. Not this time. His eyes searched hers. Then he stroked her cheek and her insides quivered.

"I meant what I said, Mbali," he said.

"What's that?" She lifted her hand to rest on top of his.

"I know what I want." His hand trailed to her jawline. "I want to get to know you. I'd like to see where this goes."

The moment of truth stared at Mbali. Step out of her comfort zone. Toss her list of expectations for good. She'd never know unless she gave it a real chance.

"What do you think?" Tumelo asked. His eyebrows etched together.

"I think..." She lowered her chin for a moment, but then raised her head. "Yes. One step at a time?"

"You read my mind." He grinned. Then he edged closer, his eyes lingering on her mouth. "Tell me if it's too soon."

She didn't stop him. Leaning in herself, her lips met his. An electrical bolt shot through her body. Tumelo lingered over her lips, pecking her mouth with tender kisses. Mbali's hands rose to tease the nape of his neck. Then she heard the song on the radio change to Lauryn Hill and D'Angelo's "Nothing Even Matters."

"Want to know what's for dessert?" he asked in between kisses.

"More Tiramisu?"

He chuckled, and they embraced each other.