Hot Property. Cheryl Ntumy S.

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СКАЧАТЬ adults now, aren’t we? How old are you these days? Twenty?”

      Keabetswe shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Seventeen, Papa. How could you forget?” They played this game often. When she was a child, her answer had always been a few years older than her actual age. Now that she was twenty-eight, seventeen sounded just right.

      He laughed and she joined in. “Well, that’s still old enough to know what goes on between a man and a woman.” His expression sobered. “I know you’re not happy about the way I live my life. But I’m a man, and I have needs.”

      Keabetswe cringed. Being a single parent meant her father had been forced to take responsibility for all the birds and bees talks. Never one to beat about the bush, he had simply decided to be open with her – a little too open sometimes.

      “So.” Her father pushed his empty plate away. “Sunday. You’ll come?”

      Keabetswe sighed inwardly. “Of course.”

      He broke into a vibrant smile. “Good, good. Excellent. Now . . .” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards.

      Keabetswe laughed as she picked up their plates and carried them to the sink. “I can’t believe it. You don’t remember how I beat you last time?”

      “That was then. This is now,” said her father with confidence, laying the cards out on the table.

      * * *

      “Morning!” Keabetswe greeted her colleagues when she arrived at work the next day.

      Luke waved, already busy on the phone, and Radha smiled from behind her computer.

      Keabetswe glanced at the folder on her desk. It was the usual beige, gold and green folder, fastened with gold elastic, with the company logo emblazoned across it. She dropped her handbag on the desk, picked up the folder and opened it.

      It was information on the company’s most recent offerings, complete with full-colour photographs and floor plans. She flipped through it, skimming over the details and peering at the images.

      Turning to the final page, she gasped when she saw the last image. It was the perfect house. Although much smaller than the sort of residences Peckham Gould usually dealt with, it was still a mansion compared to her father’s flat. It was built like a country cottage, brick walkway and all, with creepers snaking up the front walls.

      The house was a single storey but quite large, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms, including the en suite. The best part was the kitchen. It was almost as big as the lounge, and decorated in soft earthy colours. Despite its homey, rural look, the yard was surrounded by a brick wall topped by an electric fence, and a heavy wrought-iron gate.

      Keabetswe knew right away that this was it, the house of her dreams, the place she had always wanted. She took a deep breath and let her gaze slide down the page to the price. Her eyes widened. R9000 a month in rent. Just as well she was looking to purchase. Renting was an appalling waste of money – she had learnt that from her father. Her gaze slid lower still. The asking price was R990,000. Almost a cool million.

      She gulped. Forget it, a little voice in her head told her. Wait another year or two. But Keabetswe was tired of waiting. She had been putting money away every month for years in preparation for the day she found her dream house, and she could always take out a mortgage. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became.

      “So!” Esme stepped out of her office with a grin, empty coffee cup in hand, on her way to the small kitchen. “What do you guys think of our new merchandise?”

      Keabetswe nodded. “Excellent.”

      Luke, still chattering away on the phone, gave her the thumbs up, and Radha glanced up from her computer to say, “Fabulous!”

      “I’ll have new properties for everyone by the end of the week,” Esme promised, then started down the corridor.

      Keabetswe hurried after her, clutching the folder. “These properties aren’t officially on the list yet, are they?”

      “No. Why?”

      “I want one of them.”

      Her boss laughed. “I should have guessed. Okay, show me.”

      Keabetswe fell into step with her and held out the folder.

      “Ah yes, that is right up your alley, isn’t it?” mused Esme. “But I don’t think I pay you enough to be able to afford that kind of rent, love.”

      “I don’t want to rent it,” Keabetswe explained. “I want to buy it.”

      Esme paused in front of the coffee machine. “Are you sure?”

      Keabetswe nodded. “I know you have to put it on the list, but I want you to know I’m serious about this. I just need a little time to sort myself out.”

      “How much time?” Esme poured herself a cup of coffee – no sugar – and sipped it thoughtfully.

      “I don’t know.” Keabetswe frowned. “A month, maybe?”

      Esme looked at her, her eyes piercing. “Kea, you know I love you, but you also know that I love my bottom line more. In a month that house could be snapped up by someone with a little more capital.”

      Keabetswe smiled. “I know. But if I pay a deposit, it’s as good as mine, right?”

      Esme gave her a curt nod and walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll try and steer traffic away from it, but only for one month. No more. And I’m not making any promises.”

      Keabetswe hugged the folder to her chest. I’m going to be a homeowner! she thought, and allowed herself a little laugh of sheer delight.

      * * *

      Keabetswe was early for the meeting with Oagile Motsumi. She parked in the huge driveway and stepped into the sun. The house in Camps Bay was an immense property that stood out beautifully against the backdrop of the ocean, but the view was probably the best thing it had going for it.

      She pushed her sunglasses up, propping them in her hair, and walked to the door. There were no other cars on the property; the tenants were halfway through moving out and were almost never around unless they were collecting more belongings.

      Oagile Motsumi had not arrived yet. She glanced at her watch, hoping he wasn’t lost. She was about to call him when she saw a black BMW slide into the driveway. She had been expecting something a little flashier from the architect, but the car was spotless and in mint condition. She went down to greet him.

      The car pulled up next to hers. She couldn’t see anything through the tinted windows, so she stood aside, waiting for him to get out. Nervous in spite of herself, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves and put on her brightest estate agent smile.

      After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and a pair of white-clad legs stepped out. The trousers were expertly tailored and almost impossibly clean, and they fell over the tops of shiny black brogues. Keabetswe’s gaze travelled upwards to the crisp black shirt with no tie, the dimpled chin, the strong jaw, and the skin almost as dark as hers.

      Then СКАЧАТЬ