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Chapter Nine
It was a beautiful autumn day. There wouldn’t be many more of these gentle days. According to the newspaper, the first cold front was making its way towards Cape Town. That normally meant winds, storms, and rain.
Zoe parked behind the hotel. The setting of the place was ideal, right in the heart of the town. She didn’t see Dale’s car. It would seem he was the one who was late today. She’d left Cape Town early to make sure she would be on time and already had a cup of coffee in one of the many coffee shops Stellenbosch had to offer.
Her phone rang. It was her mother. Zoe was wondering when she’d phone. Caitlin would have told her about their talk at the Cavallo hotel already.
“Hi, Mom,” she said and held her breath.
“Zoe, sweetheart, I’m still trying to catch my breath! I’ve heard that you’ve kissed that delectable young man!” her mother gushed. “Good for you.”
Zoe smiled. Her mother was incorrigible. She was over sixty but always talked in exclamation marks. And when the subject was kissing, she was over the moon.
“It really was just a one-time thing, Mom,” she said, crossing her fingers. There was no way she was going to tell her mother about the second round of kissing. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, my dear. As always. But you’re not going to get me sidetracked. I want to know every last detail.”
Zoe got out of the car. “I have a meeting, Mom. I’ll phone you later this week, okay? But there really isn’t anything to tell.”
It was quiet for a few seconds.
“Oh, come on, Zoe, I’m your mother. Tell me something, I’m looking for inspiration for my new book.”
Zoe giggled. “Oh, Mom, you’re hopeless. What do you want me to say?”
“Well, how was it? Just a quick touching of the lips? Were tongues involved? Did you like it?”
“Mother!” Zoe called out, flushing. A good thing her mother couldn’t see her now. “I’m not going to tell you that!”
“Oh, all right,” her mother grumbled. “I’ll use my imagination on the specifics. But on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate his effort?”
Zoe was silent for a moment. “You only have a ten-point scale?” she teased.
Her mother inhaled audibly. “That good?” she whispered in awe.
“That good.”
Her mother sighed. “Oh, lovely. Just lovely. Okay, sweetie, I have to go and work,” she said hurriedly and rang off.
Grinning, Zoe grabbed her tablet and bag and walked towards the hotel. The tablet is easier to use than her laptop when walking around all day. Her mother was happy. She was going to write about kissing.
Zoe fanned herself. Just talking about kissing Dale had her all flustered. She inhaled the fresh air and tried to calm down. Stellenbosch was only about an hour’s drive from Cape Town.
It was a beautiful and busy student town. The town was well-known for its huge oak trees, some of which had been planted in 1683 by the Dutch East India Company governor of the time, Simon van der Stel. Fortunately, those in charge had managed to save some of the historical buildings that had been standing there since the founding of the town. She didn’t often get a chance to visit but had always loved the vibe of the town.
Zoe looked up at the hotel as she approached it and couldn’t help an appreciative sigh. She had wondered whether this hotel would also have a glass exterior like the others. Situated here, she’d thought the modern glass look Dale preferred would look out of place. But he’d somehow succeeded in combining glass with the typical Dutch-styled houses one could still find around the town.
She stepped inside the hotel and couldn’t help another sigh, this one of relief. There wasn’t any sign of Dale yet. She took a seat on one of the couches and looked around her. The inside of the hotel had the same understated elegance she’d seen in the others. Here white had been combined with beiges in different textures and shades.
She found herself fidgeting and willed her shoulders to relax. Just the thought that Dale would be there any minute had her restless, unsure of herself, and she hated to feel like that. Why would she be this way around him?
Yes, he was attractive and sexy as sin—all the Cavallo men were. Why then was it only when she was with him that her hormones went haywire? And how could she understand his behavior?
Two nights ago, he’d turned up at her flat, told her he didn’t want her kissing other men. He’d kissed her, had her just about naked in front of him, took her panties with him, and yesterday she could’ve been chopped liver for all the attention he gave her.
At the thought of the panties he’d taken, her face suffused with heat and her heart started doing cartwheels. She should give her mother that tidbit at some point—she would love to use it in one of her stories.
This—whatever it was going on between her and Dale—was also just make-believe, it wasn’t real. As she knew all too well, in the real world men didn’t stay around forever, not like in her mother’s stories where the heroine always got to marry the hero. She had to stop dreaming and thinking about this guy.
