Book 1 Holiday Romance.indd - Nollybooks

Chapter 1
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Only two more months until final exams ... Nomsa
could hardly believe it. How could the year have
flown by so fast? Soon she’d no longer be a student;
she’d be a teacher. No longer just a girl, but a
woman, with both a job and a life. At long last!
But right now there was housework to be done, an
assignment to go over and that teaching principles
test to study for.
She wasn’t complaining, though. Nomsa’s
day had started fairly painlessly for a change.
Her sister Tumi had helped her with the piles of
Monday washing and Ernest, her thirteen-yearold
brother, had lugged the heavy buckets of water
into the kitchen without being asked. Perhaps
more surprising though, was that she’d convinced
her uncle to spare them a few of his extra avocados
brought back from Polokwane. He hardly ever
gave them anything, so for the phone call to come
today of all days was not only unexpected, it was
everything she didn’t need.
Her late mother’s youngest sister, Lesogo, was
closer in age to Nomsa. They were good friends,
firm friends, blood sisters. So Lesego’s news was
troubling: she’d twisted her ankle badly and was
calling from Jo’burg General Hospital.

10 THE PERFECT HOLIDAY ROMANCE
Lesego’s boss, Vuyo Motsepe, was going to kill
her.
‘We’re leaving for the Drakensburg on Thursday,”
Lesego wailed. ‘How am I going to look after the
children when I can’t even walk?’
‘Well, what does the doctor say?’ asked Nomsa,
watching Tumi pour far too much Omo into the
bucket and waving frantically for her to stop. The
washing powder had to last until the end of the
month.
‘I have to put my foot up for at least two weeks,
maybe three. No weight on it.’
‘So how are you getting home from the hospital?’
Nomsa asked.
‘I’m going to have to phone Vuyo. He’s going to
shout at me, Nomsa. He’ll have to send a car.’
‘It’s not your fault you tripped at the taxi rank,
Lesego.’
‘He won’t see it that way.’
A silence passed between them. Nomsa glanced
at her cellphone. Running low on battery, again.
What was wrong with the thing?
‘I’ll come and visit you,’ Nomsa said. ‘Tomorrow
after college, I finish early. Tell me what you need
and I’ll bring it.’
‘A visit,’ said Lesego. ‘That would help. I’ll need a
shoulder to cry on after Vuyo explodes.’
‘He really can’t be that bad,’ Nomsa suggested.
‘Can’t he? Remember when he got malaria? He
didn’t take a day off work. This is just a stupid ankle.’

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‘Let’s deal with this one step at a time, Lesego.
Now tell me, what do you need?’
Nomsa stepped out of the taxi. It was still a little
walk to Lesego’s room in Vuyo’s Houghton house,
but at least the packages weren’t too heavy. It was
true, Lesego was always a bit of a drama queen, but
Vuyo hadn’t made his name in corporate litigation
by being a soft touch. His voice on Radio 702 was
a regular occurrence, and he was often quoted in
the newspapers. More than once, he’d appeared in
magazines such as Drum or Men’s Health – South
Africa’s brightest legal mind and the most eligible
bachelor in Gauteng. How did he keep his body so
trim and rugged with all the time he spent in court;
settlement after settlement? Everybody knew that
if your company got into trouble, Vuyo Motsepe
was the only man to save it.
Nevertheless, Nomsa had never met Vuyo. Every
time she’d visited Lesego at work, he’d been tucked
away in his office, the light from the room visible
from the front drive.
‘Working again,’ Lesego would sigh. ‘I’m actually
quite surprised the kids know what he looks like.’
‘Surely you’re exaggerating?’ Nomsa asked.
‘Maybe a little, but those kids have had it hard.
Their mother was killed in that terrible accident

12 THE PERFECT HOLIDAY ROMANCE
on the N12 and now their father is withdrawing
from everything but his work.’
Nomsa called Lesego from the end of the road.
‘I’ll be there in a minute. How do you want me
to get in?’
Lesego groaned. ‘The security guard’s sick today.
We couldn’t get a replacement. I’ll call Bongani.
He’ll open the gate and the garage with the zapper.
Just ring the bell, Nomsa.’
Nomsa snapped her phone shut. The entrance
to the house was just as impressive as she’d
remembered it. A wall at least six-feet high, topped
with electric fencing and razor wire. The gatehouse
painted charcoal grey, and the gate itself, a riot of
impenetrable wrought iron. Watching from above
were the two glass eyes of cameras connected to
the security screens inside the house.
Nomsa pushed the digital keypad. She knew why
she always felt a little intimidated here. Wealth was
something she had never been familiar with, and
looking at this house made her realise how very little
she and her siblings had. Knowing this, however,
didn’t make her feel any more comfortable. Funnily
enough, places like this made her long for their
little RDP house in Soweto. It was real and filled
with love. And wasn’t that really what home was
all about?
Nomsa could hear the bell chiming inside the
house. She looked behind her, feeling a little selfconscious.
Where was the little boy? But it was not

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a child’s voice that echoed down the intercom.
‘Hello?’
Even in the single word, Nomsa knew who she
was speaking to. How could someone make a word
like that sound like a command?
‘Hello. I’m Lesego’s niece. I’ve come to visit her.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said the voice. The gate swung outwards.
‘Bongani! Put that down immediately.’
Nomsa slipped through the opening gate,
wondering if she should head towards the garage
as Lesego had told her. But Vuyo Motsepe strode
out of the house, Bongani clinging onto him like
a little monkey. Vuyo was even taller than Nomsa
had expected and wearing a suit, a crisp white
shirt open at the neck and his tie loosened; a firm
jaw and eyes that were almost black and lips as
sensuous as all the magazines said. Yet his feet
were bare. Somehow that didn’t fit with the pristine
image Lesego had painted of him.
Nomsa gulped.
‘I’m Vuyo,’ he said, struggling with Bongani who
was trying to climb down to the driveway.
‘Nomsa!’ the little boy screamed, running
headlong into her arms.
Nomsa dropped her packages, fearing the worst
for the eggs.
‘What a big boy you are, Bongani, soon you’ll
have to carry me.’
Bongani studied her seriously.
‘Daddy could carry you I suppose, but I’m not

14 THE PERFECT HOLIDAY ROMANCE
big enough.’
Nomsa shifted. She could feel Vuyo’s eyes
appraising her.
‘I see you already know each other,’ he said.
‘I’m Nomsa,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he said and nodded. ‘Well, I guess you’d
better come in. That auntie of yours won’t be
moving any time soon.’
He turned, leaving Nomsa, the packages and
Bongani in an awkward clutch on the driveway.
The little boy slid down her and ran into the house
chasing after his father.
‘Daddy,’ he cried, ‘Daddy, did you see what I just
did?’
Nomsa picked up the packets. She realised Vuyo
was not going to open the garage and when she
entered the hallway, he’d quite disappeared. She
didn’t really know whether to call him or Lesego.
Standing in the entrance hall dominated by a
massive chandelier, she felt underdressed and
more than a little self-conscious. Lesego had never
shown her inside the house, wanting to keep her
home and work life completely separate. Now she
wasn’t even sure which way to go.
Nomsa hesitated. Should she simply walk
through in the direction she thought she should
go? Stand here and wait? Call Lesego and ask the
way?
What a rude man. He could at least have waited.
And where had Bongani disappeared to? Well,

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she’d be damned if she was going to stand here like
a complete fool.
She squared her shoulders and started to move
to where she thought the kitchen would be.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ Vuyo looked up
from his papers which were scattered all over the
lounge floor.
‘I’m not really sure ...’
‘Left,’ he said. ‘You need to turn left. Do you need
me to show you?’
Nomsa recognised that tone.
‘No thank you,’ she said primly. ‘I’ll be fine.’
But thanks so very much for asking.
‘What took you so long?’ said Lesego, looking up
from her magazine.
Nomsa rolled her eyes and dumped the bags at
her feet.
‘Bongani didn’t open the gate, Lesego. Vuyo did.’
Lesego’s mouth dropped.
‘Oops,’ she whispered. ‘So you’ve met the great
god himself. What did you think?’
‘I’m not going to talk about him,’ Nomsa said,
trying to calm herself down. ‘I want to look at your
injury.’
Lesego lifted up the blanket draped below her
knees. Even strapped in, her ankle was double its

16 THE PERFECT HOLIDAY ROMANCE
usual size.
‘Ouch,’ Nomsa said. ‘Are you putting icing on it?’
‘Mbali keeps bringing me ice packs. Only six and
that girl is a saint.’
Nomsa smiled.
‘So why’s the boss home early today? I thought
he never got back until after six-thirty?’ she asked.
‘I thought you didn’t want to talk about him?’
‘So what? It’s a simple question.’
‘Well, the answer isn’t that simple,’ said Lesego,
her eyes unable to meet Nomsa’s.
Nomsa knew that look instantly.
‘Okay, Lesego. What haven’t you told me?’
‘I was going to get to it,’ said Lesego, guiltily. ‘I
just wanted to ask you face to face.’
‘Get to what? Oh, Lesego, please don’t tell
me you’ve promised something I should know
about?’
Lesego attempted a light-hearted smile, failing
miserably.
‘It’s only for two weeks; it could be fun ...’
Nomsa studied her young aunt, her stomach
flipping as she started to work out what Lesego
was talking about.
‘Just tell me, and let’s get this over with,’ Nomsa
said.
‘Well, Vuyo was pretty upset when I got back.
What about the children? What about the holiday?
So I suggested he hire in a nanny, you know, to take
care of them, while I recovered. I’m not leaving my

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kids with a stranger, Lesego. Don’t be ridiculous.
We’re not going away for two weeks with someone
my kids have never met. I can’t remember it all,
exactly, but that was the gist of it.’
‘And?’
‘And I suddenly thought about you. How Bongani
and Mbali adore you; you needing a bit of spare
cash for your college fees. And you wouldn’t have
to worry about Tumi and Ernest. I could stay in
Soweto with them, just to keep an eye ... I just
mentioned your name, that’s all.’
‘Without asking me first?’
‘Like I said, he was distraught. Please Nomsa.
I need this job. You know Vuyo takes care of me.
That investment stuff he does for me. I know he’s a
bit of a tyrant, but actually he means well.’
Nomsa gulped.
‘So what exactly did Vuyo say?’
‘He said if you agreed to do it, he would interview
you when you came to visit.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Lesego. Look at what I’m
wearing. And what made you so sure I would do
this?’
‘I wasn’t entirely sure, but I’ll beg if I need to.’
Nomsa thought about her outfit. Butt-hugging
jeans, a yellow shirt over a lacy white bra just visible
under the flimsy material. Yellow pumps. Her hair
extensions in a complicated design that had taken
hours and all her spare cash to achieve. She looked
far too carefree and innocent to be a nanny.

18 THE PERFECT HOLIDAY ROMANCE
‘You could have warned me,’ Nomsa sulked.
‘Don’t you even have a jersey I can pull over this
top?’
‘Does that mean you’ll talk to him?’ Lesego asked,
her sigh of relief audible.
‘Don’t count on anything though, auntie, I’ll talk
to him but I won’t promise I’m going to save you.’
Lesego grinned.
‘Dig in my cupboard, if you want, but I think he’ll
like you just as you are.’
Nomsa perched on the armchair in the lounge. In
the time Lesego had taken to convince her, Vuyo
had picked up the scattered papers, placing them
in neat piles across the coffee table. She could hear
the sounds of cartoons playing upstairs; the cook
flicking on the gas hob as she hummed to herself.
No longer in business attire, Vuyo had changed
into a pair of beige corduroys and a pale blue
T-shirt. He’d also covered up his feet – in a pair
of Nike trainers that probably cost more than
all her textbooks combined. Somehow, the
change of clothes made him seem more relaxed;
approachable even. But Nomsa wasn’t going to
be fooled that easily. Everybody knew Vuyo was a
man of steel.
Sitting across from him, Nomsa found herself
glancing at his muscular arms. How could one

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person get to look that good and be so successful?
Luck and probably quite a lot of standing on other
people to get to the top ...
‘Finished?’ Vuyo asked, a bemused smile crossing
his face. ‘So am I more or am I less than what you
expected?’
Nomsa jumped as she realised he’d caught her
staring.
‘Actually,’ she replied, trying to pull herself
together, ‘I wasn’t expecting anything at all. Lesego
only just mentioned you needed help.’
‘And of course she’s never spoken about me?’
‘She speaks all the time about the children,’
Nomsa responded, hoping to change the subject.
‘And what does she say?’
‘Bongani is shy but very affectionate for three and
a half. He needs to sleep with the light on because
he’s had night terrors since he was eighteen
months. He sings himself to sleep. And Mbali, at
six, is outgoing, but she needs time alone. She likes
to read and spends a lot of time on the sun porch
stretched out with the cat.’
Vuyo’s brows furrowed.
‘Does she really?’ he said.
Nomsa shrugged.
‘I’m not the expert on your children.’
‘And I should be?’ Vuyo asked.
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Well, that’s what this holiday was all about.
Bonding. Family time. What do you think about

20 THE PERFECT HOLIDAY ROMANCE
that?’
‘You can’t bond a family in two weeks.’
Vuyo frowned and Nomsa realised she’d said too
much. Again.
‘It’s a good start though,’ she added quickly.
‘Time away from home. From the office ...’
‘Oh, I can’t stop working entirely,’ Vuyo said. ‘I’d
need you to watch the kids in the morning. Take
them walking, bowling, swimming. Get them
breakfast.’
Nomsa nodded.
‘I haven’t agreed to come yet,’ she said.
‘And I haven’t asked you,’ Vuyo replied sharply.
‘Tell me about your qualifications.’
Nomsa shifted, her body heating under his
gaze. Their eyes met, and she broke his stare with
difficulty. What was he doing to her?
‘I’m trained in first aid and I can swim. We used
to have a little river nearby where I grew up ...’
Vuyo’s jaw tightened as he glanced at his watch.
‘Your qualifications, please, not your life story.’
Nomsa looked at Vuyo, wanting to bite her
tongue, but completely unable to. She stood up.
‘Mr Motsepe …’
‘Vuyo.’
‘Vuyo then. If I were interviewing a potential
nanny for my children, I might consider that this
was possibly more important than whatever else
I had on my agenda. So if I am boring you, then
perhaps I’m not the right person for this job, and if

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that is the case, I’d better be on my way.’
Vuyo blinked, unable to mask his surprise.
‘I’m sorry,’ he found himself apologising. ‘You’re
right of course. Please don’t go.’
Nomsa hesitated, but remembering Lesego,
lowered herself back into her seat. Her eyes locked
with Vuyo’s. This time, he looked away first.
‘I’m training initially as nursery school teacher,’
Nomsa said. ‘I’ll be finished at the end of this year.
I just need to gain a bit more practical experience.
But that will be the fun part. I love children, always
have.’
Vuyo nodded.
‘And what about your availability? We’d need to
leave on Thursday. I’ve booked the hotel for two
weeks.’
‘I’d have to change a few things around, but I
think it should be okay.’
Bongani burst in the room, followed closely by
Mbali, who was trying to hit him over the head
with a plastic cricket bat.
‘He keeps changing the channel, Daddy. I told
him it was my turn to choose. It’s not fair. He
always does this.’
Vuyo stood up, grabbing a child under each
arm.
‘Can’t you kids see I’m busy?’ he said.
‘Nomsa,’ Bongani moaned from his new perch. ‘I
hate watching girl stuff. And she never puts on the
Disney channel.’

22 THE PERFECT HOLIDAY ROMANCE
‘He never lets me watch what I want, Nomsa!’
Mbali returned.
Vuyo glanced at Nomsa, seemingly undecided
as to how to solve the problem. She looked back
at him, and then stood. Nomsa took Bongani from
Vuyo, cuddling him against her.
‘So what’s this really all about, kids? Are you
hungry?’
‘Lesego always baths me now. She’s lying down,
you know,’ Bongani muttered.
‘Daddy said he would bath us, silly,’ said Mbali,
crossing her arms as Vuyo lowered her to the
floor.
‘Then let’s help Daddy, shall we?’ Nomsa said.
‘Mbali, take Bongani upstairs with you and run the
bath. Daddy will be up as soon as you call.’
Nomsa and Vuyo watched the children scamper
away. Looking at Vuyo, Nomsa realised she may
just have overstepped the boundaries. His lips
were tight, his posture stiff. What on earth did she
think she was doing telling the kids what to do? She
wasn’t their teacher, their nanny or their mother.
She’d blown this for Lesego once and for all – and
for herself.
‘Maybe I should go,’ Nomsa said quickly,
collecting her rucksack.
Vuyo nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I think that would
be best.’
‘Please tell Lesego I’ll call her.’
‘Fine.’

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Nomsa walked to the door, her heart thumping.
So this was her first and her last encounter with
the celebrated Vuyo Motsepe. She couldn’t have
felt more stupid or more furious with herself.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘thank you for your time.’
‘As you pointed out earlier,’ Vuyo said coldly, ‘I
didn’t actually give you that much of it.’
Nomsa flinched.
‘Goodbye,’ she said.
Walking across the driveway, she watched as the
gates swung open in front of her and, with every
uncomfortable step, she felt Vuyo’s gaze drilling
into the back of her head.