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⌞M I N D E L Y N⌝
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⌞♥⌝      The heavens had sent an angel to earth, and the African Sun was his halo. Gorgeous was an understatement and an insult to describe him, this man was too beautiful to be human. You would think normal, human clothes would dampen his beauty, but they did the complete opposite and amplified his dashing features and suave aura.

"Hey." Johan made it to the table and pulled up a chair across from me. "I had to speak with some Nigerian supervisors from our company. They are staying here, so I bumped into them and had a small chat. Anyway, hopefully, I didn't keep you waiting too long."

Okay, Mindy! Unlike the car ride from the airport, you are going to speak with confidence and carry a conversation with this angel — I mean, man. You have this girl!

The trick was to speak to him as if he were any of my patients back home. There, I was the master of conversation, verbal and non-verbal. After all, he was human like me. Oh well, I thought.

With a puff of my chest, I crossed my legs with elegance and said, "Hey, and no, you didn't."

"Are you sure?" he asked, taking a seat.

Coated with a thick Afrikaans accent, his deep voice sent delightful shivers surging through my body. It was smooth and warm like well-aged wine. I hate to admit it, but I couldn't get enough of it.

"Yeah, I just got here," I assured him, trying to not get too worked up about his heavenly voice.

"Good," he hummed while placing his hands on the table. "Otherwise, I wouldn't forgive myself if I kept a beautiful young lady like yourself waiting."

Shit. A compliment.

I was awful at taking those. They just made me squirm awkwardly in my seat and stare at a wall. But seriously...

Beautiful? Me? Those words didn't belong together.

"Thanks, but I look mediocre at best. This is such a basic fit," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Hmm. I concur. It is plain. However, its simplicity brings out your unique features more, and the color suits you very well, making you glow like the sun," he commented with an authentic smile. "Seriously, you look breathtakingly lovely."

He said the last word with such a strong, velvety tone that a part of the impenetrable wall around my heart melted away. My cheeks went ablaze, as I focused my energy on the glistening glass of water before me and whispered loud enough for him to hear, "Thank you."

"You are very welcome, Miss Suberson. Did you get enough rest?"

"Mhm," I confirmed with a quick nod. "Yes, I did, but I have to admit I am a little disappointed in myself."

"Really? Why's that?" he queried.

"I thought I'd only sleep for an hour or two — not six! I had a list of stuff to do, like..."

My voice trailed off into a hushed silence. I felt like I was talking too much. He probably wasn't interested in some foreigner's touristy wish list. My small hands journeyed their way up opposing arms, and before either of us uttered a word, I had locked myself in a self-hug.

"Like what?" he asked, taking me by surprise. I opened my mouth to say something but immediately shut it.

Watching me intently, he noticed my hesitation to speak and my tactic to self-soothe, so he encouraged me to carry on. "Miss Subers, I'm genuinely eager to know what you want to do. So, please, go on."

"It wasn't anything spectacular," I acknowledged, fearing his high expectations. "However, I was thinking of exploring the hotel more since it's rich with history; going to the spa and booking a massage; or just observing the hotel's beautiful, lush nature and maybe adding some sketches in my notebook."

"You draw?" He seemed taken aback but intrigued. "Maybe you could draw me one of the days."

Like I had been caught red-handed by the anxiety police, my hands shot up as I clarified, "Woah, there! Don't get the wrong idea! I'm no Picasso. I simply like making a few sketches of the wilderness from time to time. Anyway, I'm ready to tackle the day!"

"I can see it. You seem livelier too." His oceanic blue eyes twinkled as the corners of his eyes crinkled, showing his obvious amusement. "I'm glad."

We engaged in a little small talk before we were approached by the young waitress from earlier. She introduced herself as Gugu and handed us the various menus. Thanking her, we both took a look at the food menu first.

To my pleasant surprise, the pamphlet was straightforward without any fancy jargon that only wealthy folk understood; it eased my nerves a little. After a few minutes of examining its contents, I had something in mind. I put the menu down to be greeted by a gorgeous man grinning at me with a tilted head.

"Are you ready, Miss Suberson?" asked Johan.

With a nod of approval from me, he called over the waitress and made his order. When he was done, I made mine. However, just as she was about to leave us, Johan signaled for her to come closer to him, and she obliged. When she was close enough, he whispered something into her ear, and she smiled in agreement and then took off.

Curious, I asked, "What was that about?"

He looked my way with a lifted brow. "What was what about?"

"The little interaction the two of you shared," I elaborated before stressing, "was suspicious."

"Oh, Miss. I can't give away all my secrets, can I?"

His already deep, heavily accented voice dropped to a subtle bass tone. That, paired with the enigmatically mischievous smirk, resulted in a very dangerous combination that invited unwanted palpitations.

His statement caught me off guard, but I refused to let him see it. So, I laughed it off and said, "Okay. So, now you're a mystery, huh?"

"Depends..." He folded his arms on the table and leaned closer to me. His eyes glistened with something I had never seen before. "Does that intrigue you, Miss Suberson?"

I put my elbows on the table, rested my head on my hands, leaned forward, and said, "I don't know. I'm a pretty mean detective, but you seem like very dangerous territory to go sniffing around on."

I was sipping my water when his smirk intensified, and he said, "Are you willing to take the risk and try to solve me? I promise you'll find something wickedly worthwhile if you wish to uncover me."

Uncover you? Uncover you?!

As my bodily temperatures hit a high score in record speed, my dirty-minded self choked on the cold beverage. To make matters worse, some liquid had gone up the wrong pipe and shot out of my nose like a water gun. I shakily reached for the napkin and then hid the lower half of my beet-red face from reality.

Johan covered his mouth, but it was too late; he exploded with laughter. As I coughed my lungs out like some crazy person, the man in pink shook from chuckling his ass off so hard that tears were forming in his beautiful eyes.

Fuck. I want to run.

Red as a tomato from humiliation and annoyance and praying for the world to end, I finally caught my breath and glared down at the evil mastermind behind my near-death experience.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to kill you," he said after recovering from his laughing fit. "However, that's something my friend, Chess, typically says in times like this, so I was curious how you would take it."

I knew it! This was a test! I can't believe I fell for it!

I dropped the small piece of white cloth on the side of the table and intensified my scowl. My inner petty child forced me to cross my arms in frustration as I exclaimed, "You sneaky rat!"

"Rat? I guess I deserved that," he thought aloud, wiping some tears. "But I think I'm more of a cute mouse, don't you think?"

I wasn't going to play his games anymore. My eyebrows furrowed as I bemoaned, "Mr. Pretorius, I'd appreciate it if you refrained from saying such stuff, especially if you don't mean it."

"Huh?" His eyes widened before returning to their original size. A serious expression fell over his supermodel-like features as he claimed, "Who said I didn't mean every word?"

I was not prepared for that response. I didn't know what to say. "B-but you said —"

"You're a very beautiful young woman, Miss Suberson. I would never lie to you about such things. I'm sorry I even made you doubt that."

Though delivered with sharpness and volume, his tone was sincere and honest as he spoke. Troubled, his eyes looked into mine, desperately searching for my understanding. Guilt ate me up badly for my earlier assumption.

So, I chose to be the bigger person. I made peace with my situation, sidelined the past ten minutes, and decided to start things between us on a fresh, new page. However, my pettiness wasn't about to make things easy for him.

It's time that I gave Mr. Ken Doll here a taste of his own medicine.

The first attack he deserved was my infamous silent treatment. So, whenever he asked me a question or said something, I gave him short answers or nodded with an uninterested "mhm." His confidence, while still intact (due to years of experience), was on the verge of bursting. His increased hesitation, the constant clearing of his throat, and the regular drinking of his whiskey made it pretty obvious.

A part of me wanted to put down the cold front and interact with him, but I'd be lying if I said another, more sadistic part of me didn't find his suffering entertaining. The waitress returned with our meals, and, for the next couple of minutes, I avoided eye contact with him and focused on my plate of deliciously roasted chicken and white rice.

Johan kept glancing over at me every few seconds. Cutting it with expert silverware skills, he had attempted to eat his medium-rare steak but failed dismally every time. He appeared too distracted to eat and eventually put down his cutlery. His hand hovered over his chin before stroking it, as he was deep in thought.

"Miss Suberson?" he called.

I could hear him clearly but acted as if I couldn't. His body language screamed vulnerability, concern, and uncertainty. I was close to breaking my facade and laughing in his face. The ball was clearly on my side of the court; I had the next shot.

He cleared his throat and called for me again, but louder. "Miss Suberson? Is everything okay?"

A hint of panic seasoned his steady voice. Though slight, I admit it was music to my ears.

Okay, enough of this silence.

I had my fair share of fun. It was time to move on to phase two: making my voice heard and being taken seriously.

I dropped my cutlery on my plate and then looked him in the eye. "Johan?"

He had returned to his plate, so his fork stopped midair. "Yes?"

I folded my arms and crossed my legs. "You know what bothers me the most?"

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. "No, what?"

"Pretty boys with deep pockets."

I declared that without holding back. He froze like a deer caught in headlights. However, I took another sip of my water and then continued my theory.

"These rare species of pretty boys come in various forms and subtypes, but there are two forms that I'm going to highlight to you because they are typically good friends, and you might be familiar with them. Do you want to hear about them?"

The nervous but curious gentleman set his silverware down, leaned back, and crossed his arms. "Sure. I'm all ears."

"The first one is what I call 'the narcissistic prick'. He is convinced he was conceived by the gods and that he's the cream of the crop." Taking a break, I flicked another piece of chicken into my mouth and chewed on it for a bit. "He also believes he's on top of the world and feels everything revolves around him. On top of that, he hardly cares for anyone's opinion because his ego is too big for his own good — are you laughing?"

Johan had a hand over his mouth and was shaking the table from a silent laugh that he was trying his best to suppress. "I'm s-sorry. This shit is too funny."

I should have taken offense to that, but seeing him tremble with a red face while refraining from laughing was quite the sight. Amused, I couldn't stop myself from grinning like an idiot. "What about it?"

After calming down enough to talk to me, he responded: "It's nothing. It just reminds me of someone dear to me. It's a love-hate relationship. Anyway, continue with your theory. What's the other one?"

"Ah, yes!" I had almost forgotten. I lifted my finger to his face and said, "Then there's the other one that I commonly refer to as 'the people pleaser.' This one feels a constant need to impress people to get their approval and feel self-gratification. He may not be as blatantly obvious and obnoxious as the first one, but he has goals of his own and feels the best way to go about them is to be a sneaky little shit because he doesn't want to disappoint anyone."

Like a slap to the face, I wiped the humor from his lips. His bright blue eyes fixed themselves on me for a whole minute before he released a defeated sigh. "Fuck. Are you a therapist or a psychologist?"

"Neither, but my biological mother is a psychiatrist," I answered him.

With a lifted brow, he narrowed his eyes. "Then how did you...?"

"Oh, I took a few psychology classes in college. They were easy A's. The rest is just a combination of being a good judge of character, my observant skills, and my experience with different social groups."

"Ah, I see. You're a real boffin, aren't you?"

"Detective!" I corrected him with a threatening finger. "I'm a good detective!"

"My bad, Detective Suberson." His eyes still fixed on me, he tilted his head to one side and started rubbing his long neck. "So, tell me. How did you figure me out?"

"To be honest, I wasn't too sure at first because you managed to maintain your cool-headed and welcoming persona really well," I owned up to that fact.

Pausing, I gestured to the small French fry sitting in the corner of his plate. That made him chuckle a little for some reason, and then he let me nab it.

I chucked it into my mouth and chewed on it for a bit before carrying on from where I left off, "However, as this lunch progressed and I purposely reacted negatively to your gestures, your body language became more obvious."

His eyes widened briefly, then returned to their normal size as he nodded. "I'm impressed, Miss Subers."

Okay, this was getting annoying.

"Johan," I said.

He lifted a brow, saying, "Yes?"

"Call me, Mindelyn or Mindy, please. Miss Suberson is too formal and makes me feel old," I explained. There's that, and it reminded me of my mother, whom we are not going to talk about right now.

He tested it. "Mindy?"

"See, you're a real pro at it," I teased, pushing the broccoli to the far edge of my plate.

His fork reached over and took the disgusting green goblin from the garden. He shoved it into his mouth and said, "Now, I want to ask you a question."

"Yeah?" I asked before stuffing the rest of the delicious roasted chicken and remaining rice in my mouth. Your girl never wasted food. Wasting food was the work of the anti-Christ.

His shoulders rose, and from the exposed part of his low-cut shirt, his chest muscles tensed up. "So, are you sure I have not offended you in any way?"

Seriously, in front of my food? The audacity of this man.

Frustration made me want to snatch his head from across the table and scream, 'Read the room!' However, instead of possibly scaring him off and facing assault charges, I sighed and then deadpanned, "I don't know, Johan. Why don't you tell me?"

His lips pressed together into a fine pink line. "You seem much more comfortable with me now, but I need to make sure. Seriously, are you still indignant from the earlier stunt? I meant my apology."

I am over it, but toying with him a little wouldn't hurt.

"Depends... " I lightly poked my cheek with my finger and then asked, "How will you make it up to me, Mr. Pretorius?"

He leaned back and stroked his chin, deep in thought. "I know you like animals, so how about I take you for a safari ride? Just the two of us."

Almost jumping out of my seat, a squeal of excitement slipped out of my glossy lips. With twinkling eyes, I clasped my hands and said, "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course, I'll just make some space in my calendar this week." He beamed, flashing his perfect pearly whites.

"Awesome! It's a date!"

We both froze with wide eyes, looking at each other like we had seen a ghost, and my cheeks burned up exponentially. Instinct made me cover my mouth, and then, without thinking, I banged my head on the table. I hadn't thought things through, because as I did so, I made contact with the edge of my plate, which made the whole ceramic dish flip over and smack me straight on the head.

Just as I was on the verge of tears, Johan's snort caught me off guard, so I lifted my head and burst out chuckling. We chortled so loudly that a few residents at neighboring tables and passing staff stared at us.

The rest of our time at the table together was filled with teasing, laughter, and him occasionally pulling random pieces of food from my hair. However, time was not on our side, and soon enough, he had to get to a meeting, and my appointment with the stylists was fast approaching.

Johan took care of the bill. Normally, I would have fought him for it until we split it, but looking at my financial situation, I knew better than to even try. So, I kept my mouth shut and complied.

We had left the table and walked over to the edge of the patio, where the pool began its territorial dominance. I had taken a seat on a lounge chair while he stood, taking a call. While I was sipping on a Sex on the Beach cocktail and watching the sun begin its descent, the young waitress from earlier rushed over to hand me a small black box and said it was a special delivery. She left shortly after I thanked her. Curious, I opened it and found a small, beautiful chocolate ganache cake inside. A lovely pink rose sat in its center with little gold pixy dust on top, while by its side lay a tiny silver card written in bronze cursive: 'Welcome to the City of Gold, Mindy'.

Brushing the tip of my nose, I stifled a laugh. He was so cheesy that it hurt.

Johan had just finished his call when I stood up, walked over to him, and tapped his broad shoulder. Towering me by a good foot, he turned and looked down at me with a cocky smile, asking, "Missing my presence already, Mindy?"

We were so close I could almost taste his cologne; it smelled of smoked cedar and vetiver. It was a scent that sent me to the woods when I would hike down a few trails. With anyone else other than Blake, I would be very uncomfortable with the lack of personal space, but it felt oddly safe with Johan.

Bringing myself back to earth, I pointed to the small box on the lounger, and he said, "Oh, do you like your chocolate surprise?"

I nodded. "That is sweet of you. Thank you, but..."

Sensing something wrong, his golden brows furrowed. "But what? What's bothering you?"

A small pause of silence unfolded between us. When I thought I was ready, I took this opportunity to explain myself, "I'm so sorry about the 'date' comment earlier. You were probably very uncomfortable with that."

He leaned to the side, analyzing my face. "What makes you think that?"

Instead of beating around the bush, I blurted it out: "Don't you have a girlfriend?"

His jaw dropped slightly, as uncertainty flashed on his features. However, a few split seconds later, it was replaced with a toothy grin. "Ah. I see."

"Yeah. Here's another thing: You are a very charming young man, and I get that you're trying to make my stay as comfortable as possible. However, I don't think she would be too happy if she found out you were eating alone with some random woman."

"Well, good thing she doesn't exist yet," he said, throwing me off.

"Yeah, good thing she doesn't — wait! What?" I exclaimed, and blood drained from my face.

Smugness invaded his angelic smile as he slyly teased, "Do you know someone interested in the position? I'm gladly accepting recommendations."

My cheeks set aflame again. I shook my head and immediately apologized, "I'm so sorry. I just assumed that you were taken."

"It's quite alright, Mindy. You're not the first," he added, making me feel better. "That's why I never wear a ring, even as an accessory. People automatically assume I have a wife back home to get to."

"It's the way you carry yourself with such poise and certainty. It's intimidating at first, but very alluring and inspiring. Anyway, those traits and your body language made me think there was already someone more deserving of your presence back home." I dropped my head to the floor, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. The toes of my slippers kissed as I confessed something that had been bugging me since the airport. "What I'm saying is, you are pretty great, Johan. I know we've hardly known each other for ten hours, but I can tell you have a good heart, and I wish you'd spend your personal time with someone more deserving."

Jesus. Fucken. Christ. What am I saying? This is my date's best friend. I shouldn't be thinking or saying things like that to him! Wait! Why is my heart thumping so hard? It's like there's construction work going on in my chest. Am I having a heart attack? No, even worse, can he hear it? Fuck. This is bad.

Just as I was about to turn on my heels and flee, a large, warm hand gently grabbed my chin and lifted my head to face his handsome face. His deep oceanic eyes put me in a trance, as a rattlesnake does to its prey, as his thumb caressed my lips. Normally, I could read him like a book, but I had no idea what he was thinking; he had that same look I couldn't decipher earlier.

"Eish! At the rate we're going, woman, you might be the end of me." He pulled his hand back into his shorts pocket and elaborated, "Seriously, Mindy. You shouldn't say such things to a man; he might kiss the life out of you and leave you both begging for more."

Kiss? Kiss!

Did he say kiss? Was he contemplating kissing me just now? My body froze as heat raided my cheeks while I muttered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. It was so inappropriate."

"Another thing, stop apologizing for nothing and bringing yourself down. It's heartbreaking to see and hear." A sigh escaped his pink lips as rosiness washed over his cheeks. He broke eye contact with me and rubbed his neck as he spoke, "Seriously, Mindyelyn. There's never a dull moment with you. I enjoyed every second spent with you today. You are ridiculously funny, highly intelligent, and amusingly unpredictable. Sure, you may be klutzy at times, but that just adds to your girlish charm. You deserve a man who will treasure you with so much love that you never doubt yourself again, and that's why I..."

"You what?" I asked, feeling my heart swell. He wasn't saying anything, so I playfully slapped him on the chest and demanded, "Stop with the suspense, Johan. What is —"

"I can't wait to see you again."

At first, nothing happened; my mind was still processing the received information, then fireworks exploded in my head, and Johan was in the center of chaos. An army of butterflies threw a grand party in my stomach. If the world ended right there and then, I would take it. A boy other than Blake wanted to spend time with me without being at gunpoint!

However, reality came to bite me in the ass when this thought left my big damn mouth: "But your friend? Chess?"

He facepalmed himself. "Eish! I forgot he existed for a second."

"Yep. That makes the two of us," I commented with pursed lips.

"Okay, let me be straight with you: Mr. Nel is the asshole subtype you elaborately described earlier this afternoon," confessed Johan. "I love the guy, but he's not ready for anything serious unless it's with his mirror."

Fever Fling is a hookup app, so I figured that much out. And, I mean, I did originally sign up for the same thing: no-strings-attached sex.

However, after spending some time with a man, who was genuinely interested in me and my personality, I started thinking otherwise. Coming to South Africa was a bad idea. It had given me unrealistically high hopes because something deep down told me that I was sure to eventually crash and burn.

However, if I'm already going to burn in hell, shouldn't I just go down in style then?

Peeved, Johan went on with his venting session, "Trust me, he's a one-night stand kind of guy. Besides, last time I checked, you two aren't actually in a relationship. All I'm saying is to explore your options before you put all your eggs in one bask—"

"Friday," I said, interrupting him. "Today is Wednesday, right? That's when I want to go on safari. Are you free then?"

"I do have some important meetings in the morning, but my afternoon is flexible," he answered, checking his smartwatch. "Okay, Mindy, as much as I do enjoy being with you, I should be on my way. There are some things I need to take care of."

"I understand; you're a busy man," I reminded him. "Thanks for the lunch."

"Of course. Thank you for accepting my invitation," he said. "And Mindy?"

"Yeah."

He was hesitant at first but eventually managed to say it. "If it's not too much to ask, would you be comfortable with a goodbye hug?"

A hug? It sounds innocent enough.

"Sure," I said, timorously opening my arms.

He took a small step to close the distance between us, gently grabbed one of my arms, and pulled me toward him. I crash-landed in his warm embrace. Smelling like a musky cedar forest, his body was rock-hard against my soft, plump one. On the outside, it looked like a normal hug between a couple, but it was far from that. My thick thighs firmly pressed against his large manhood, no matter how much I shifted. The longer he hugged me, the harder it became.

Shit. This is going to kill me.

Resting on my waist, his large, warm hands squeezed my love handles, and I bit down on my bottom lip to suppress a moan. I listened to his steady heartbeat in hopes of distracting myself and calming down my erratic one, but the tactic was miserably failing, and my nipples were hardening from the overstimulation.

Dammit! Could he not hold me there? I'm super sensitive!

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, his lips brushed my earlobe and he whispered, "You might want to wear a thicker bra next time, Mindy."

"Fuck you," I mumbled as I buried my head in his slightly hairy chest, feeling my face flare up. He heard me and started chuckling as he released me from his very inappropriate bear hug. Still covering my face with one hand, I shooed him away, saying, "Okay, now go! You're going to be late for your meetings."

"I can't wait for Friday. Seriously, it's the highlight of my whole month," he crooned, wiggling his thick, blonde eyebrows. He walked over to the lounger and passed me his sweet gift. "Oh, and good luck tonight!"

"Thanks. I need all the luck I can get. Now goodbye, Mr. Pretorius," I said, taking the box from him.

His devious smile grew wider. "Alright. Goodbye, Mindy."

He disappeared soon after saying what he needed to say to me. The two ladies from the other table glared at me as I walked down the path to the koi fish pond. I'm not going to lie; being alone made my anxiety slowly rise.

Am I imagining things? Or did that happen to me?

It was hard to digest the events that unfolded over the past hour. However, as I pondered on what the hell I had just done, a slight hue of pink radiated from my cheeks and nose as my heart palpitations returned.

If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that pretty boys gave me heart problems. ⌞♥⌝