Chapter 1 - The Twentieth Floor

CHAPTER 1: THE TWENTIETH FLOOR

"I need a promotion," Bongiwe mumbled.

"No, you need a new man," her friend Reneilwe retorted. She occupied the desk just opposite Bongiwe's.

"Men are overrated."

"Not if they're doing it right." Reneilwe giggled.

"Well, a new position would be a step in the right direction… then maybe I could think about men. But right now, I am staring at forty emails, Reneilwe. FORTY! In the time it took me to fetch Kgomotso a cup of coffee!"

"Sounds like you better get busy," Reneilwe teased.

"It would just be nice to feel like my hard work is heading toward something here. This job as Kgomotso's assistant was supposed to have potential for growth. I've been here two years and have successfully worked my way up to a big fat nothing. I should have someone answering my emails for me by now."

"It is hard to get noticed in the vastness of the Human Resources department of Mokoena, Peters and Cele."

"You could say that again — oh, for heaven's sake, it's up to fifty now! It's going to be a long day, Ren." Honestly, Bongiwe liked her job, but it was supposed to be a means to an end. She had the necessary education for upper-level management, just not the experience. In her job as an executive assistant to the Training and Development Manager, she got to meet tons of new people every day, and since her department was responsible for training new employees, Bongiwe knew everyone. And she also knew everything there was to know about Mokoena, Peters and Cele, an international insurance company with offices across the globe. That's what she really wanted — her dream position as an International Consultant. She'd get to travel, and no two days would ever be alike. But after working for Kgomotso for nearly two years, Bongiwe was no closer to her dream job than when she started.

"Crap! Here she comes!" Reneilwe hissed as she quickly minimised the screen on her desktop. She'd had the job sites open again. Her friend was always looking for something bigger and better.

The Human Resources department of Mokoena, Peters and Cele was huge — taking up almost two of the top five floors the company occupied in the twenty-storey Sandton building. Bongiwe gazed around her department; the education staff was currently deeply buried in their work as their boss marched through the sea of cubicles. Kgomotso was a difficult woman to work for, but she was fair.

"Bongiwe. Clear your desk of your personal effects and come with me." Kgomotso dropped an empty box on her desk and waited, her toe tapping in irritation. What?! Oh God, no… she can't be firing me?

"Now, Bongiwe!" she snapped, clearly not in a good mood.

Reneilwe shot her a sympathetic look as Bongiwe scrambled to gather her things. She fought back tears, hoping Kgomotso was simply moving her to another office for some reason or another.

"Call me," Reneilwe mouthed as she finished packing.

With her hands shaking, Bongiwe lifted the box and followed her boss. If she could still call her that.

As they stepped into the lift, she found her voice. "Have I been fired?"

"Fired? Heaven's no." Kgomotso rolled her eyes. "Why would you think that?" Bongiwe gestured at the box containing her things and shrugged. Kgomotso stabbed the button for the twentieth floor with a huff.

"Sorry for that. It didn't occur to me you might see it that way. You have not been fired, you've been poached."

"Poached?"

"At least for a few weeks — hopefully not longer. You're the best assistant I've ever had, Bongiwe. I don't know what I will do without you. Reneilwe can't possibly fill your shoes!"

"Wait, Kgomotso. Back up, please? Why are we going to the executive floor?"

"Ofentse Ndlela is in desperate need of an assistant who knows the company inside and out. His previous assistant quit very suddenly and he's gone through a dozen temps in the last few months. Apparently, he needs you more than I do."

Bongiwe felt exhilarated at the news. Ofentse Ndlela was a senior partner! A few weeks with him would teach her a lot and give her the opportunity to make a lasting impression! This could be just the thing she needed to make herself stand out among her peers.

"Listen, Kgomotso. Obviously you are upset about losing me, but if I'm still working for Mokoena, Peters and Cele, then I'm just a phone call or a message away. If you need anything — anything at all — you let me know."

"Thanks, Bongiwe. I feel I should warn you. Ofentse is a hard man — unyielding and demanding."

"I can handle him." The doors to the posh, sophisticated land of the executives slid open, and they stepped out of the lift. Bongiwe had the feeling she was getting a glimpse of the unattainable. Everything was polished white marble, sleek black-and-white furniture with small pops of bright colour here and there.

"He is expecting you." Kgomotso gestured toward the corridor that housed Mr Ndlela's corner office suite.

Bongiwe made her way down the silent hall, clutching her box of belongings to her chest. Get a grip. Don't let all the fancy go to your head. You belong here. Hold your head high and blow him away, and you might get to stay!

The mental pep talk was just what she needed. Bongiwe pushed her way through the double doors to his suite — all glass and silver, with his name on the door.

"Oh, thank GOD! You're here!" The desperate voice reached her ears before she saw the older woman scurry from behind her desk.

"I'm Anke. I am Mr Ndlela's receptionist and personal assistant. I'm only in the office three days a week, answering phones, et cetera. I'm so happy to see qualified help! We've been so out of sorts since the last girl left."

"Thanks, Anke." Bongiwe was happy to find such a friendly face here.

"Here, let me get that and I'll take you to your office."

Office? I get my very own office? She couldn't help her beaming smile.

"This will be a step up for you." Anke nodded. "It will be a very similar job as you have with Kgomotso, but much more demanding. The perks, however, are quite nice." She opened the door to a beautiful office with high ceilings and an actual window.

"I will leave you to get settled, then, Mrs Ngcobo." She nodded, more respectful now that Bongiwe had taken possession of her new office.

"Erm, actually, I'm Ms Zwane now." She could feel her cheeks burning and wished she didn't feel so self-conscious about her failed marriage.

"My apologies," Anke said, sounding flustered. "Mr Ndlela will return shortly to discuss your duties. In the meantime, I left some instructions on your desk that should help you manage until he returns."

"Thanks, Anke."

"Make yourself at home." She smiled as she backed out of the room.

Holy crap! What a morning!

Bongiwe gazed around the room. It was a small office adjacent to Mr Ndlela's much larger one, but compared to the cubicle she came from, it was huge! As she wandered around, taking in the rich, sleek furniture, the view, the plush carpet beneath her desk, Bongiwe was overwhelmed. She dared to peek through the door to his office, but found a lounge instead. A round glass table sat beside a kitchenette that was bigger than hers at home. Another door opposite the lounge led to Ofentse's office, and a third door led to a richly appointed conference room.

The ringing telephone called her back to reality. She would have to dive in and sink or swim.

As she arranged her desk with her personal things, Bongiwe managed to stumble her way through a few phone calls, but quickly had her bearings. She was certain she'd handled each call with care and precision. She'd tentatively scheduled a few appointments and needed to add them to his online schedule. Once she managed to log into the system, she was happy to see it was much like Kgomotso's. She cleaned up a few issues she saw right away, and also added notations to his new appointments she'd set for him, indicating that the other party was aware that the time might need to change. She'd settled into her work so quickly and easily it surprised even her. It wasn't until late morning that she realised she was in desperate need of coffee.

Feeling as though she deserved it, she entered the lounge between their offices and made herself a fresh pot. She perused the shelves and the bar fridge and found the cream and sweetener, as well as a packet of Ouma rusks. Carefully carrying the hot coffee and a rusk back to her seat, she took a much-needed sip and cupped her hands around the mug. You've so got this, Bongiwe! She just missed Reneilwe's chatter. Reneilwe! She needed to let her friend know what happened. She reached for her computer and logged onto the office chat.

Sorry! I should have messaged you sooner! Bongiwe typed furiously.

What the hell is going on? Did you get fired or promoted? Her reply was immediate.

Promoted… sort of… I think.

Oh, that sure clears it up. Come on, Bongiwe! I need details!

I am filling in as Ofentse Ndlela's executive assistant until he finds and trains a permanent one.

OMG! That is just the kind of thing you've been hoping for! I'm so jealous! You get to look at that sexy man every day!!!

THIS IS STRICTLY PROFESSIONAL, RENEILWE!

I know, I know. This is finally a step toward your dream job.

Why the sad face?

I will miss you. He's never going to let you come back here once he realises how awesome you are.

That is only step one in the plan! I can't be an assistant forever. I will miss you too, but I'm only a message away.

True… and there's always after-work margaritas!

Yes, ma'am! I'll be needing one of those soon!

Good luck, Bongiwe. You deserve this.

Thanks, Ren.

Bongiwe let out a deep sigh, resting her head back on the ungodly comfortable chair, sipping her coffee, enjoying the moment of peace. She didn't let herself sit idle for long. She quickly finished placing all her personal things in her desk drawers, taking stock of the items in each. She came across the basic office stuff: staplers and highlighters, Post-its and pens. But the bottom left drawer was locked. She scanned the top of her desk, checked the middle drawer, hoping to find a key for the drawer.

If her assumptions were correct, the drawer contained Mr Ndlela's petty cash funds. She wanted to review the logs while she had time. The logs would tell her a lot about her duties as his assistant. Placing her cup down, she checked the printing cabinet behind her desk and the small filing cabinet beside her coat cupboard. I have a frigging coat cupboard! She smiled with glee. She would be able to store a raincoat and umbrella here for bad weather! She searched every drawer, but could not find the key anywhere.

I hope the last assistant didn't take it home by accident.

She was just about to re-check the other drawers again, but as she sat down, she bumped her desk and her coffee cup went flying, rolling underneath her chair.

"Damn it!" Bongiwe cursed, racing to the bathroom she shared with Anke and visiting guests. She peeled off reams of paper towel and, checking that the coast was clear, she darted back into her office unseen. She crawled underneath her desk and began to mop up the mess, swearing through gritted teeth.

Of course, that was the very moment that Ofentse Ndlela waltzed into her office without knocking.

"Ms Zwane?" His deep, sexy voice reached her from her position on the floor. The sound of his arrival made her jump.

"Ouch!" She cracked her head on the wooden underside of her desk. Bongiwe screwed her face up, desperately holding back tears of pain. Her face flushed as she backed out on her hands and knees.

"Mr Ndlela, sir. So sorry, I er… I seemed to have spilled my coffee and…"

"Don't mind me," he said in amusement as she scrambled to her feet to properly greet her new boss.

She trailed off as a strand of her once-tidy sleek hair fell in her face. She couldn't stop herself from blowing it away.

What a sight! He must think I am a disaster!

Ofentse just looked at her, completely silent. Although she thought she could see the vaguest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. At least he has a sense of humour. It was then that she followed his gaze downward.

With utter, abject horror, Bongiwe realised her skirt had ridden up in her hurry to get back on her feet. It now rested somewhere around her hips, exposing her thighs and the vee of her peach lace panties. A lifetime passed before she recovered enough to right her skirt, covering her naked thighs and bared-to-the-world panties. A lifetime where Bongiwe prayed for a hole in the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

Perfect! Just freaking perfect! I want to make a good first impression, so what do I do? Crawl around on the floor so the first thing the man sees when he walks in is my nearly bare ass backing out from under my desk, and then I whirl around and flash my pussy at him for good measure. Oh. My. GOD! I'm going to die!

In that moment, she realised Ofentse hadn't taken his eyes off her. Suddenly remembering himself, he shifted his line of sight up to Bongiwe's face as she fidgeted with her skirt, her hair still a mess and doing little to hide her blushes. A beat. Half a second when their eyes locked and both were still in the heat crackling between them.

In that tiny moment, Bongiwe stopped breathing as she looked directly at Ofentse. She could swear that something passed through her — like some kind of electric current had surged between them. When she blinked, however, his face returned to its solemn professionalism. All traces of smiles and lust gone. It vanished so quickly Bongiwe thought she must have imagined it in the first place.

"Pleasure to meet you," he murmured.

"Shall we start over?" Bongiwe finally found her voice.

"Yes, let's." His smile was breathtaking.

Ofentse Ndlela's voice was so deep it practically vibrated in her ears. She'd gathered her composure and was now ready to make a much better second impression.

"You've settled into your office?" he asked. "Anke has shown you around?"

"No, I believe she's been a bit busy, but I'll manage."

"Nonsense, I will give you a tour. Come with me." His tone brokered no argument, so she followed wordlessly. Ofentse said nothing as they walked down the empty corridor between their offices and the small reception room where Anke's desk sat vacant. He showed her the phone system and how Anke forwarded the phones to an answering service when she was out running errands.

"When you are comfortable, she will forward them to you when she leaves."

He showed her the conference room and the audio-visual equipment they used for presentations. He showed her his office, the things she would need there, and then he showed her the lounge between their offices.

"Make yourself at home here. Anke keeps it stocked with the things I like, but feel free to ask her for anything you might need. I prefer keeping the doors open between our offices. It just facilitates good communication and makes it easier when we can move back and forth freely."

In the small space, Bongiwe was hyper-aware of his closeness. He was tall — well over one metre nine — and she could smell his aftershave. It smelled expensive and sexy. No, you don't! Bongiwe gave herself a sharp warning. Don't you dare start crushing on your boss! She was already feeling embarrassed enough after that horrible first encounter. Having those kinds of thoughts about Ofentse would turn her whole face so warm she was sure he would know exactly what she was thinking. A thousand other things ran through her mind as they returned to her office.

In the awkward silence, she grew desperate to fill it with mindless chatter, but she refrained. Ofentse had no such trouble. He seemed to have the unique gift of a man who never felt uncomfortable with silence. It was borderline arrogance, not feeling the necessity to make small talk. Maybe not arrogance. That was the wrong word for Ofentse. He was more… confident, with maybe a tiny dash of arrogance. The combination was an alluring one.

Finally, after what felt like an age, Ofentse extended his hand in a wordless gesture for her to take a seat back at her desk. He took one of the two seats opposite her.

Bongiwe smoothed down her navy pencil skirt and perched uncomfortably on the edge of her seat. The desk between them was wide and it felt so strange. It was her office. He sat in her guest chair, but he was in control of this situation.

"Thank you for joining me on such short notice. My regular assistant left suddenly several months ago, and I've struggled finding just the right person to fill her shoes."

"I'm delighted to help in any way I can." She smiled, still eager to make up for her earlier gaffe.

"I see you've managed to jump right in. My schedule hasn't looked so organised since Nthabi left."

"Thank you for noticing, sir." She beamed. "What other duties will I have?"

"Your job here will be very similar to your role with Kgomotso. I need someone to take care of my daily administration and keep my schedule, attend meetings with me, take notes and record minutes. I need a right hand who knows this business and can keep me organised and on schedule. Kgomotso was not pleased to lose you so suddenly. That speaks volumes of your work ethic and skill set. I needed someone well-versed in company policies. My stint with the temp agency was a disaster, so Kgomotso suggested I take someone from in-house on a temporary basis. When she gave me a list of possible candidates, you were the likeliest choice. Your CV is quite impressive, Bongiwe. I was astounded we had such a gem hidden away in HR."

"Thank you, Mr Ndlela. I won't let you down. I am eager for just such an opportunity to prove myself," Bongiwe said evenly. She wanted to be clear that she knew this was a huge step up, and one she didn't mean to be temporary. She had a few months to prove herself valuable. Surely that was long enough for Mr Ndlela to see it wouldn't be prudent to send her back to her old job, but to give her a new one with more responsibility.

"I will only need you for a few months. Just until I manage to find the right person. You are overqualified for this job — and Kgomotso knows it. That's why she didn't want me to take you. She knows I probably won't return you." He smiled. "You prove yourself with this opportunity and you will have a future here." Bongiwe found his unwavering eye contact a bit unnerving. Almost as much as his uncanny ability to know exactly what she was thinking.

"I will rise to the occasion, sir! But let's hope my skirt does not!" she blurted.

"Indeed," he said with such control, she wondered how he managed to keep a straight face.

"You will, of course, receive a significant bump in pay, which the company will honour even if you do resume your normal duties as Kgomotso's assistant. As my assistant, the role will be familiar to you, but it will be more work than you are used to. This is a high-pressured environment and the pace can be relentless. But I am confident you will keep up with me."

"Sounds wonderful." Bongiwe smiled. "I'll be grateful for the experience no matter what happens."

"I am afraid you're going to have to think on your feet pretty quickly, but you've already proven you can do that. I have a meeting this afternoon and will need you to be getting on with other things while I'm gone. You'll go with me next time. Here is a list. Please let me know if there is anything you aren't sure you can manage."

Bongiwe perused the enormous list, but found the duties were at least familiar. "I can do all of this, no problem. Shall I complete the tasks as I would for Kgomotso, and then we can re-evaluate at a convenient time?" She was certain Ofentse would have his own methods that might differ from Kgomotso's.

"Brilliant suggestion. I will leave you to it, Ms Zwane."

"Please, call me Bongiwe." His eyes were such a stormy and intriguing shade of dark brown, she found it hard to tear herself away from them. She gave him what she hoped was a polite smile as he returned to his office, but he was back in a flash.

"I forgot — these are the minutes of my morning meeting. I need you to type them, save them on the server, and send them to the attendees listed here." Ofentse handed her a folder containing several sheets of paper.

As she stood to take the minutes, their hands grazed and Bongiwe's eyes lifted to his. She felt it again — the heat between them. His eyes blazed at the contact and she dropped her eyes.

Get a grip! This is not how you get ahead, Bongiwe!

Bongiwe's head was spinning by the time Ofentse left for the afternoon. He had given her ample instruction, was patient and concise with his directions, but he never repeated himself. And Bongiwe couldn't remember a goddamned thing the man said. At least she'd had the sense to take notes.

All she could seem to recall was how he looked in his perfectly tailored suit. Tall, broad-shouldered, slim waist, dark and intense — Ofentse Ndlela was an insanely attractive man, and he smelled incredible!

When he was explaining how to deal with large company queries and broad-scale business insurance policies, his words were a blur — all she could do was look at the shape his lips made when he spoke; how he licked his bottom lip during a pause, the whiteness of his straight teeth.

The whole morning, he never once asked her a personal question and never offered any small talk of his own, but he was perfectly polite. Not quite cold, but not really warm either. She had no idea what kind of person he was and was still uncertain of his impression of her. She had yet to see him crack a full smile. Bongiwe had the feeling this job was going to be very lonely. She already missed the buzz and camaraderie of her team floors down.

She exhaled slowly and tried to pull herself together. Looking over her notes, she focused on the very long and intimidating to-do list and busied herself for the rest of the afternoon.

It was nearly six o'clock when she finished the last item on the list. With a deep breath, she ventured into his office to find him on the phone. She immediately turned to go, but he signalled her to wait, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk.

"I'll have my assistant schedule the meeting," he said into the receiver. Bongiwe reached for a pen and notepad from her bag, ready to take any notes he might have for her.

"Yes, Friday will do fine. Looking forward to it." He ended the call.

"Shall I make room in your schedule?" she asked. From what she could remember, he was booked solid for Friday.

"Yes, an important meeting with the CEO and CFO of a company called the Gift Spot, an adult-toy supplier."

"Toys?" She frowned. She couldn't imagine a toy store for adults — OH! She realised a second too late. She'd lost count of how many times she'd embarrassed herself today.

"Yes, Bongiwe, toys for—" But she held up her hand to stop him.

"Got it, sir!" She let out a giggle. "Oh, um… what time should I schedule the meeting?"

"Noon. We'll make it a lunch. Have Anke call catering. She will plan everything in that regard. I'll need you to clear up at least two hours of my time. Try to rearrange what you can and reschedule for next week or late Friday evening if necessary."

"I'll go take care of this before I leave, then." She moved to return to her office.

"No. Tomorrow is soon enough. It's late. I don't want to overwork you on your first day."

"Then I will see you tomorrow at eight?"

He met her gaze after a brief once-over. Bongiwe felt her stomach flip as he did.

"Make it nine. You've stayed late tonight," he said, not bothering to look at her again.

"I don't mind."

"I do. I'll not take advantage of you. You worked your ass off today. I see you've completed the list I gave you. You keep this up and I'll never let you leave." He offered a genuine smile.

He's such a confusing man! So quiet and brooding one moment and warm and almost friendly the next. It was all business with Ofentse, but she felt an overwhelming urge to really get to know him.

As she headed out to her car, Bongiwe tried really hard to deny the excitement she felt at the thought of seeing him again the following day — and every day after that for a few months at least.

Bongiwe's townhouse was as neat and organised as the rest of her life — nothing messy, nothing out of place. Not anymore, anyway. When she came home now, she felt a wave of comfort and relief. It was decorated simply to suit her tastes, but her creative use of colour in the modern furnishings gave it a cosy, homey atmosphere. She had deliberately redecorated in a way that made her home almost unrecognisable from the one she had shared with her husband — now her ex.

She went to bed particularly early that evening, her busy, strange day finally taking its toll. Once in her big bed, covered with a soft duvet, Bongiwe's mind drifted through her first day with Ofentse. Somewhere along the way, her thoughts went into overdrive. Lying there in the dark, each time she closed her eyes she had to snap them open again as visions of Ofentse Ndlela — dark, strong and sexy — filled her mind. She saw the way he'd stared in open admiration when she accidentally flashed him.

She thought of that one moment for so long, she finally decided to give in to the fantasy and let her thoughts linger on things that would never happen. As she imagined that look of admiration turn to one of longing, the throbbing ache between her legs grew stronger. Nestling down into her pillows, her eyes shut tight and her mind somewhere else, Bongiwe opened her legs and slipped her hand into her panties.

She focused on the man, not so much to recall the events of reality — but to elaborate on the fantasy that she'd been trying to ignore since she'd felt the heat between them. Imagined or not, the thought of it still turned her on. Her finger dipped into her entrance. She was already wet — wetter than she'd expected. Thoughts of Ofentse really got her going. As she moved two fingers up to massage her clit, she let her fantasy free.

She imagined Ofentse there in bed with her, his dark eyes hazy with want. Bongiwe leaned her head back, thinking of him placing urgent kisses down her throat, trailing his teeth along her skin. She could almost feel the scratch of the rough stubble of his jaw. She fantasised about what it might feel like to touch him, to run her hands up and down his back, over his chest and into his hair. She imagined the sensation as he lowered and sucked an erect nipple into his warm, perfect mouth.

Bongiwe's free hand cupped her breast, a fingertip grazing the tight bud of her nipple. She slid two fingers inside herself, stroking that spot her husband could never seem to find. With her fingers soaked in her own juices, she moved to circle her sensitive clit.

Lost to her fantasy now, she imagined him biting down, ever so slightly, on her nipple. The image so strong that she gasped at the sensation of it, already feeling on the brink as a hotness spread between her legs. Fantasy Ofentse grabbed her breast, caressing the soft, full mounds as he licked and sucked. Bongiwe raised her hips, her eyes firmly closed but her body completely open. She thought of how the length of his body would feel against hers, and almost naturally then, thought about his cock — how she would reach out to touch its smooth hardness. How she'd move her fist up and down steadily, feeling him throb against her palm.

Ofentse would gently place her onto her back, using his tongue to wet his bottom lip as her breasts rose and fell in time with her breathless panting. He would lift her legs into the air and part her ankles. Bongiwe recalled then the look on his face when she'd caught him staring at her in the office — that was the look he would give her just before he would take her. Bongiwe would see his cock twitch and know how much he wanted her. Her legs draped over his broad shoulders as he moved into position. Her knees would shake as he stroked the tip of his dick across her clit, like her fingers were doing right now. A long moan escaped as she ached with need.

Bongiwe applied more pressure on her clitoris, taking herself even closer to the edge. She panted harder, lifting her pelvis higher off the mattress. More, she needed just a bit more to tip her over. Ofentse would know how to make love to a woman. He would know how to fulfil her needs and he would rise to the challenge — not like her husband. She tapped her finger on her bud. With each firm push, a white-hot electric sensation scorched every cell in her body.

As though he were really there, she could practically feel his huge, strong hands on her body.

Concentrating first on that look in his eyes, she let her fantasy take her to that pivotal moment when he would slide his dick slowly, slowly inside her — stretching her — filling her. Just the thought of him inside her made her moan with pleasure. She wanted to watch him looking down on his cock gliding into her and slinking back out, shiny with her juice. She liked the thought of him watching it happen. She began to pick up the speed, her fingers plunging inside of her with fast, deep strokes, pressing against her G-spot.

When she finally thought of how it would feel to have a man like Ofentse fuck her — of how he would take them both to a place she'd never been with any man — how his face would screw up and his brow furrow as he reached climax. The thought of making him come inside her tipped the scales and her pussy clamped around her fingers as she exploded into orgasm. The world around her vanished as she succumbed to the shakes and jolts of her body. Her muscles tensed and released as she brought herself to the best climax she'd ever managed on her own.

Why couldn't her husband understand she needed—

Don't ruin it with thoughts of Riaan! she reprimanded herself. With that, she eased into the dreamless sleep of a sated woman.