Five-star seduction. Louise Make

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      Dedication

      To my parents and KG, who taught me that love in any mould is magnificent.

      Chapter 1

      1

      “How the hell did you get my direct number?” came the petrifying bark.

      Langa took a breath. She was no novice when it came to cold-calling and sourcing new clientele for the marketing and branding company at which she worked. She’d been working in the industry for six of her twenty-eight years and was brilliant at her job – hence her title: Acting Head of Marketing.

      Not unheard of for someone as young as she, but definitely rare. Permanent promotion to the position was the goal currently in her sights, so she stilled the quiver in her hands and concentrated on impressing her latest target.

      “Mr Rhadebe, you’re speaking to Langalethu Cima at McMann Marketing. I understand that you’re a busy man, and I have no intention of keeping you. All I ask is that you give me a few minutes of your time . . .”

      She had been working on some undeniably fascinating concepts for the launch and branding of his new luxury hotel – but first she needed to land an appointment to pitch them. One appointment should not be impossible. All she needed to do was catch his attention – and ignore the warm shivers that trickled down her spine at his deep, smooth voice.

      “Miss Cima, you seem to know a lot about me. I don’t know how and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I need you to know is that I already have my own brand management people. I am very happy with them and have no wish to replace them with an overambitious girl, out of her league and easily overwhelmed.”

      She had no idea Lazola Rhadebe would turn out to be a complete beast. Sure, it must have taken incredible intelligence and brutal focus for him to have achieved the successes that he’d had as a property developer and investor. Very few earn the reputation of being the multimillionaire business mind to watch by age thirty-six, but Langa firmly believed that there was always room for good manners.

      “You don’t know me, and you have no idea what you’re up against, mister.” She was disturbed by the aggression in her hiss, but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Do yourself and your hotel a favour and meet with me. Give me your best shot; I’d love to see you try to overwhelm me. I have a branding concept that will knock the socks off you, your team and any archaic advertising gimmick they may have slapped together. Sir.”

      Not the advised route to take when trying to make important business connections, but it turned out to be just the attitude to silence Mr Rhadebe and catch his interest. Ten minutes later Langa let out a hushed huff as she made a note of the lunch date she’d secured. One week from Monday.

      She wasn’t nervous about proving her competence, though she had been shaken by the threat he had issued just before hanging up.

      “I will give you one hour, Miss Cima. You had better make bloody sure you impress me, or you will never work a major contract in this city again. One hour.”

      Langa sat staring at the receiver in her hand. What had she gotten herself into? She snapped up her head at the light knock at her office door. The MD, Robert McMann, stuck in his head. “Still here, Langa? It’s Friday, it’s five o’clock. Go home.”

      Langa sighed and replaced the silent receiver.

      * * *

      “You have to get here immediately! She said we could pick out her dress without any interference from her prissy self. And she’s springing for the designer stuff!”

      Langa scowled. Angela was screeching into her cellphone as if she believed the highest possible decibels would teleport Noluvuyo over. The three of them had been friends since high school – remarkable when considering how different they were.

      “Drop everything. We’re going to treat Langa to a day she’ll never forget!”

      Angela’s blonde ponytail gleamed and her manicured nails tapped excitedly at a to-do list that had materialised out of thin air the moment Langa had given permission for her two closest friends to prepare her for the Johannesburg Media Mix that night. She needed to make an unforgettable impression on the important people she would be meeting; and since most of them were men, it meant catching their eyes before ensnaring their minds.

      “We need to move immediately if we’re to be done by tonight. I have a lot planned for our girl.”

      Angela was very good at pulling a glamorous swan out of an ugly duckling’s hat. She owned an exclusive beauty parlour and adored her trips to her shockingly expensive hairdresser. Langa did not even know where the nearest spa was and she wore her long hair completely natural.

      Langa took in Angela’s silk blouse and tailored pants, then looked down at her own outfit. Faded jeans and a T-shirt. She definitely needed all the help her friends had to offer. Her no-nonsense business suits could only ever take her so far. And that was no way to impress the likes of Lazola Rhadebe.

      Langa blinked wide-eyed. Why was she suddenly thinking of that irritating man? So what if he exuded a power impossible to overlook? Her mind was wandering. She noticed Angela animatedly snapping her fingers at her as if encouraging an untrained puppy.

      “Okay, Vuvu’s meeting us there, so we need to skedaddle. We have four hours to find what we need, then lunch, then I’m taking you to my shop. Thank goodness you’re a hottie already, so we shouldn’t need to do too much. I can’t wait to see how long your hair will be once it’s relaxed!”

      “What? No, I’m not treating my hair.”

      Her friend halted. “I thought you wanted a whole new look, Lang.”

      “I do, but relaxing my hair is more than I’m willing to commit to,” Langa replied. “I’d have to find a hairdresser I like, go there every week or two, and give up hours I could spend on a pastime I enjoy. Like work. I just don’t see myself getting that right.”

      Angela scrunched her nose for a moment. “Fair enough. Would you let Nandi wash and blow it out for tonight, though? You’ll feel like a princess when she’s done styling it.”

      “Sure. So long as I can go back to my Afro afterwards.”

      “Deal. By the way, I told Vuvu that we couldn’t stop for a pizza lunch – please back me up on this. You cannot load yourself with grease and junk. Not today.”

      Langa sighed, took her bag from Angela’s outstretched hand and followed her to the door. “Alright, no grease. But why do we need four hours to buy one dress? It would’ve taken me thirty minutes on my own.”

      Angela’s grey eyes shot out something akin to pity. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

      * * *

      By the fifth designer boutique, Langa was praying for an act of nature to intervene. Angela on a mission was something spectacular to behold. Three hours had vanished into thin air and the blonde beautician still hadn’t seen anything that impressed her. Noluvuyo had spent the entire morning alternating between laughing at Langa’s impatience and baring her teeth threateningly whenever Langa suggested calling it quits.

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