Beauty and the Broker. Cheryl Ntumy S.

and she found herself in line behind a tall man with broad shoulders. She could barely see past him. Inching closer, she tried to get a good look at the menu. The man in front took a step backwards, the heel of his shoe landing on her foot.

      Melody yelped and jumped back, almost losing her balance. The man whirled around and grabbed her arm to steady her.

      “I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

      He certainly sounded sorry. Melody raised her gaze to his face and her eyes widened in recognition. He was the hot guy from the restaurant, the one who had starred in her fantasies for the past twenty-four hours. Suddenly she felt flustered and nervous. “I’m fine, thanks.”

      “I’m afraid that’s what happens when you have feet as big as mine,” he said apologetically, flashing a contrite grin. His teeth were just a little crooked and his smile was slightly lopsided, which only made it more appealing. His body was no less impressive: well built and powerful-looking. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular arms, blue jeans that fitted just right and spotless tackies at least twice as expensive as her brother’s.

      Melody forced her gaze back to his face. “Uhm, no problem. I shouldn’t have stood so close anyway. I wasn’t paying attention.”

      “Hunger does strange things to people.” He smiled again, and Melody felt her knees buckle.

      The man pointed at the menu and said something, but she was too busy staring at him to pay attention.

      “I’m sorry, what was that?” I’m way too tired to be talking to someone this good-looking, she thought miserably. I’m probably a mess! Where’s that full-length mirror when you need it?

      “I was just saying they have a special,” the man said. “Buy any large pizza with two extras and get a small one free.”

      Melody ran a hand down the back of her head, hoping she didn’t look as tired as she felt. “They’ve probably increased the regular prices to make up for that.”

      The man laughed. “And I thought they were being nice,” he teased. “What are you having? I’ll order for both of us.”

      “Thanks, a small chicken and mushroom for me.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “Small?”

      “I’ll be eating it alone,” she explained.

      He grinned, suddenly looking very pleased, then leaned towards the counter and placed the order.

      Melody fumbled in her bag and fished out a R50 note.

      “It’s okay. I’ve got it,” he said, pushing her hand away gently.

      “Oh no, that’s really not necessary,” she protested. “Please take the money.”

      He shook his head. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad manners to refuse a gift? Come on, let’s have a seat while we wait.” He led her away from the counter.

      Melody didn’t know whether to be grateful or feel put out. Grateful, probably, but she couldn’t help it; she liked to pay for her own things. That was the whole point of being independent. She could hear her friends’ voices in her head, telling her to relax. It was only pizza.

      “I’m Thabiso, by the way,” he said, holding out his hand. “Thabiso Gumede.”

      She took it with a smile. “Melody Nyathi.”

      “Lovely name,” he remarked.

      She almost swooned. “Thanks. And thanks for the pizza too. That’s kind of you.”

      “Hey, it’ll be my good deed for the week.” He leaned a little closer. “Did you have a good time with your girlfriends last night?”

      So he recognised her as well. A little shiver of pleasure ran up Melody’s spine. “Ah, it was you I saw at the restaurant,” she said, feigning nonchalance.

      “Wow, she noticed,” he replied with a grin.

      Their number was called and the two of them moved forward to get their food. Thabiso’s arm brushed against Melody’s sleeve and a jolt of electricity shot through her. He handed her the smaller box.

      “It was nice meeting you, Melody.”

      “You too.” That’s it? she wondered in dismay. Aren’t you going to ask for my number?

      “Enjoy the pizza,” he said. He lingered for an agonising second as if debating his next move, then smiled and swept out into the night.

      For a moment, Melody was at a loss. Have I been out of the game so long that I’ve forgotten how to read the signals? she wondered. I could have sworn there was something there.

      She sighed and walked to her car, her heart still hammering against her ribs. Stop, she chided herself. The disappointment was so strong she could almost taste it, sour and unpleasant on her tongue. She shook her head. Maybe the chemistry had been one-sided. Thabiso was just a nice man in a pizza shop.

      “Melody!”

      She turned around, startled. There he was, two cars away, about to get into his silver Audi.

      “Hi,” he crooned, walking towards her.

      She felt her stomach flip over. “Hi.”

      His smile was ridiculous. “Sorry, I just forgot to ask you something.”

      Oh Lord, thought Melody, grateful for the presence of her car, just in case she lost the use of her legs. How in the world does he get away with being this sexy? She cleared her throat, managed to string a few words together and even threw in a coy smile for good measure. “Really? What’s that?”

      “Well . . .” He offered a sheepish laugh. “From the moment I walked out of that pizzeria, I regretted not asking for your number.”

      Serves you right, she thought, her smile widening. “I don’t usually give my number to strange men,” she said, toying with the strap of her handbag.

      “That’s a very smart policy,” he teased. His Blackberry materialised a moment later and he looked at her with his head cocked to one side. “I’d love to see you again, Melody. On purpose this time.” A flicker of doubt crossed his face, momentarily marring his features. “Unless there’s already someone in the picture. You’re not wearing a ring, and you ordered pizza for one, but still . . .” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response.

      “There’s no one,” she blurted out. “At the moment I’m . . . free.”

      His grin returned. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day. And your number is?”

      Melody grinned and held out her hand. “Here, let me do it.” He gave her the Blackberry and she entered her name and number, then called her phone before handing back Thabiso’s. A second later, her ringtone went off. “And now I have yours.”

      “Thank you.” He pocketed the Blackberry. “I have to get going,” he said, showing no sign of moving.

      “Me too. Good night, Thabiso.” Melody took a step backwards.

      “Night. I’ll be in touch.”

      “Sure.” She turned around and walked the few steps to her car with a little more swagger than usual, knowing he was watching. Good thing she was wearing those skinny jeans that brought out the best in her generous butt.

      * * *

      “I knew it!” exclaimed Buhle, pounding her fist against the sofa and almost sending the bowl of popcorn flying.

      “Calm down,” said Melody, snatching the bowl out of danger and shooting her friend a warning glance. “Watch the sofa.” She frowned and ran a hand over the velvety beige upholstery, still new and spotless.

      “Why? You met somebody. I’m excited!”

      “Spill it, Mel,” demanded Sophie