You Don't Belong To Anyone Else But Me...!

The week dragged.

And somehow flew by at the same time.

Asemahle didn't understand how both things could be true, but they were.

Every morning she walked into Khanyisa Holdings with a plan.

Focus on work.

Answer emails.

Learn as much as possible.

Build her career.

And absolutely, under no circumstances, think about Andile Makhoba.

Simple.

Except it wasn't.

Not when Makhoba Investments had suddenly become the biggest project in the company.

His name was everywhere.

In meetings.

In emails.

In presentations.

Sometimes she felt like she couldn't go thirty minutes without hearing someone say "Makhoba Investments."

By Friday morning, she was convinced the universe was laughing at her.

She sat at her desk reviewing campaign notes when Ayanda suddenly appeared beside her.

"Asemahle."

"Hmm?"

"The directors need us in Conference Room B."

Asemahle looked up from her laptop.

"Please don't tell me it's another meeting."

Ayanda grinned.

"It's another meeting."

Asemahle dropped her head dramatically onto her desk.

"This is workplace bullying."

Ayanda laughed.

"The client wants to review the first draft of the campaign."

Immediately, Asemahle knew exactly which client.

Her stomach did that annoying little flip again.

Honestly, she was getting tired of it.

She grabbed her notebook and stood.

"Let's get this over with."

---

Conference Room B was already half full when they arrived.

Coffee cups sat scattered across the table.

Someone had brought muffins.

A projector displayed campaign slides against the wall.

Asemahle chose a seat in the corner.

A strategic choice.

Corners were safe.

Corners attracted less attention.

Five minutes later, the door opened.

Andile walked in.

Beside him was Sibusiso, carrying a coffee and looking far too cheerful for a Friday morning.

The room immediately shifted.

People straightened in their chairs.

Conversations stopped.

Several managers stood to greet them.

Asemahle stayed seated.

Pretending to read her notes.

Pretending to be completely focused on work.

Pretending she hadn't noticed him.

The problem was, she was a terrible actress.

Because she felt his gaze almost instantly.

She held out for maybe three seconds before looking up.

And there he was.

Looking directly at her.

A small smile touched his lips.

Not a big one.

Just enough.

Just enough to make her heart skip in a way she found deeply irritating.

Get a grip.

---

The meeting started.

Thankfully.

Because staring at each other across conference tables probably wasn't productive.

For the next hour, the room filled with discussions about campaign strategies, timelines, and branding concepts.

Unlike the previous meeting, the atmosphere felt lighter.

People interrupted each other.

Debated ideas.

Laughed occasionally.

It felt less like a boardroom and more like a group of people actually trying to create something good.

Asemahle contributed when she had something useful to say.

And every single time she spoke, she noticed something.

Andile listened.

Not the fake kind of listening people did while waiting for their turn to speak.

Real listening.

The kind where you could actually see someone processing what you were saying.

It surprised her.

A lot of executives dismissed junior employees before they even opened their mouths.

Andile didn't seem interested in titles.

If an idea was good, he cared.

If it wasn't, he challenged it.

Simple.

Professional.

Fair.

By the end of the presentation, everyone seemed pleased with the direction things were taking.

The director smiled.

"I think we're moving in the right direction."

Several people nodded.

Andile did too.

"I agree."

A collective sense of relief moved around the room.

The meeting was over.

People began gathering laptops and notebooks.

Chairs scraped against the floor.

Conversations resumed.

Asemahle packed her things quickly.

Her plan was exactly the same as last time.

Leave.

Quietly.

Without attracting attention.

Unfortunately, fate once again decided to be unhelpful.

---

"Miss Ngcono."

Asemahle froze.

Slowly, she turned around.

Andile stood a few feet away.

His suit jacket was slung casually over one shoulder.

His tie had been loosened slightly.

For the first time, he didn't look like the polished businessman everyone talked about.

He looked... normal.

Tired, even.

Human.

"Yes?"

"I have a question."

She waited.

"What made you choose marketing?"

Asemahle blinked.

That wasn't what she'd expected.

Not even close.

For a moment she thought about it.

Actually thought about it.

Because nobody had ever really asked.

"Stories."

Something flickered across his face.

Interest.

"Stories?"

She nodded.

"Every business has one."

The room around them seemed to fade a little.

Or maybe she was imagining it.

"Some people only see products or numbers," she continued. "I like figuring out the people behind them."

Andile's expression softened.

"And helping other people see those stories?"

"Exactly."

A small smile appeared on his face.

"I think that's why your ideas work."

There it was again.

A compliment she wasn't prepared for.

Her cheeks warmed.

Which was embarrassing.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Before either of them could say anything else, a familiar voice interrupted.

"Sorry to ruin whatever this is."

Sibusiso appeared beside them carrying his coffee.

The grin on his face suggested he wasn't sorry in the slightest.

"We have another meeting."

Andile closed his eyes briefly.

"Of course we do."

"The joys of adulthood."

Asemahle laughed.

A genuine laugh she couldn't hold back.

To her surprise, Andile laughed too.

Not the polite smile she'd seen before.

An actual laugh.

For a second he looked younger.

Less serious.

And somehow that made him even more dangerous.

---

Later that afternoon, Asemahle joined Ayanda for lunch.

The company cafeteria buzzed with noise.

Cutlery clinked against plates.

Someone laughed loudly from another table.

The smell of grilled chicken and fresh bread filled the air.

The second they sat down, Ayanda leaned forward.

"Okay."

Asemahle immediately groaned.

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"I absolutely do."

"Then answer."

"There is nothing to answer."

Ayanda pointed at her dramatically.

"See?"

"See what?"

"Guilt."

Asemahle laughed despite herself.

"There's no guilt."

"Mhm."

"He's a client."

"Mhm."

"I'm an employee."

"Mhm."

"We're working on a project."

Ayanda folded her arms.

"Still suspicious."

Some conversations were impossible to win.

This was one of them.

---

Across town, Andile sat in his office.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the Durban skyline.

Cars moved below like tiny dots.

Reports covered his desk.

Normally work consumed his attention completely.

Numbers.

Meetings.

Investments.

Problems to solve.

Today, however, he had reread the same report three times.

The office door opened without a knock.

As usual.

Sibusiso walked in carrying two coffees.

As usual.

"You seem distracted."

"I'm working."

"No, you're pretending to work."

Andile accepted the coffee anyway.

Sibusiso sat down without being invited.

Again, as usual.

"You're thinking."

"I always think."

"Not like this."

Unfortunately, Sibusiso had known him long enough to tell the difference.

Andile stared out the window.

Maybe he was distracted.

A little.

Okay, more than a little.

And the frustrating part was that it made no sense.

He barely knew Asemahle.

Yet she stood out.

Maybe because she never treated him differently.

Most people wanted something.

A favour.

A connection.

An opportunity.

Something.

Asemahle never seemed interested in any of that.

She challenged ideas when she disagreed.

Spoke honestly.

Laughed easily.

It was... refreshing.

And he couldn't stop noticing it.

---

That evening, Asemahle arrived home exhausted.

The second she walked through the door, she kicked off her heels and collapsed onto the couch.

A dramatic collapse.

One that communicated exactly how tired she was.

A few seconds later, Snenhlanhla appeared.

"You look terrible."

Asemahle lifted her head.

"Thank you for your kindness."

"You know what I mean."

"I know."

Her cousin sat beside her.

"Bad day?"

"Long day."

"Work?"

Asemahle nodded.

For a moment, she almost mentioned Andile.

Almost.

Then she stopped herself.

Big mistake.

Because Snenhlanhla immediately narrowed her eyes.

That look.

The dangerous one.

"You're hiding something."

"No."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"You definitely are."

Asemahle groaned loudly and buried her face in a cushion.

Apparently everyone in her life had become a detective.

---

The following week brought another surprise.

An invitation landed in everyone's inbox.

A networking breakfast hosted by Makhoba Investments.

Attendance mandatory.

Asemahle stared at the email.

Then sighed.

Of course.

Beside her, Ayanda nearly squealed.

"This is huge."

"It's at seven in the morning."

"It's still huge."

"It's seven."

"Asemahle."

"Seven."

Ayanda laughed.

Somehow her excitement made it impossible to complain for long.

---

The breakfast event took place at a luxury hotel overlooking the ocean.

The morning sun reflected off the water, turning it silver.

Fresh coffee filled the air.

Platters of pastries lined elegant buffet tables.

Business leaders mingled throughout the conference hall.

Asemahle arrived with the marketing team and quietly hoped the morning would pass without incident.

It did not.

About ten minutes later, Andile arrived.

The room changed instantly.

Not dramatically.

Subtly.

Conversations paused.

Heads turned.

People noticed.

Success had a presence all its own.

As he greeted guests, his gaze moved through the crowd.

Then stopped.

On her.

A smile appeared.

Small.

Warm.

Real.

Before she could stop herself, Asemahle smiled back.

And this time neither of them immediately looked away.

---

Later, after the presentations ended, guests gathered in smaller groups to network.

Asemahle escaped to the balcony.

Not because she disliked networking.

She just needed a break.

The ocean stretched endlessly before her.

Waves rolled toward the shore.

The breeze carried the sharp scent of salt and seaweed.

"It's my favourite view."

She turned.

Andile stood beside her.

No crowd.

No boardroom.

Just them.

"Durban?" she asked.

"The ocean."

Asemahle looked back toward the water.

The sunlight danced across the waves.

"It's beautiful."

"It is."

The silence that followed felt surprisingly comfortable.

Not awkward.

Not forced.

Just peaceful.

Which was strange.

They barely knew each other.

Yet talking to him never felt difficult.

Eventually Andile spoke.

"You know, most people are nervous around me."

Asemahle laughed softly.

"I was nervous."

His eyebrow lifted.

"Were?"

"A little."

"And now?"

She smiled.

"Now I know you're just a person."

For a second, he stared at her.

Then he laughed.

A real laugh.

The kind that reached his eyes.

The kind that transformed his entire face.

And there it was again.

That stupid little flutter in her chest.

Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

---

Eventually the event came to an end.

People exchanged business cards.

Said their goodbyes.

Returned to their separate lives.

Separate responsibilities.

Separate worlds.

Yet something had shifted.

Not love.

Not yet.

Not even friendship, if they were being honest.

Just curiosity.

Growing.

Quiet.

Impossible to ignore.

As Andile watched Asemahle walk away with her colleagues, one thought settled firmly in his mind.

He wanted to see her again.

Not because of work.

Not because of the campaign.

Just because.

And somewhere across the parking lot, while climbing into a company shuttle, Asemahle found herself thinking the exact same thing.

Which was probably a problem.

A very big problem.