Hidden Pleasure

IMANI POV

"There are five thousand six hundred reasons why a woman should be married by 26...with two to three kids already." Mom uttered as she raised her fingers before I could argue, I stared at her fingers, then at her beautiful face.

There's one thing about Mrs. Evelyn Lerato, no one argues with her, especially not so early in the morning. She's ready to bring down the house, so we all just agree to whatever she has to say without saying a word.

"Five thousand six hundred reasons? Really, mom?" I asked, as I sat down for breakfast.

"You children of this generation, you think you know everything about love, which is totally stupid!" she snapped, frowning, and I bit my lower lip to stop myself from bursting into fits of laughter.

"Good morning, baby," Dad greeted her, as he kissed her gently on the lips.

"Tell your daughter to grow up, Mandla, she is so disobedient and would not listen to what I have to say," she said dramatically.

"Mom, I'm listening." I said, and she raised her eyebrows.

"What did I say then?" She asked, pointing her wooden spoon at me, and Dad took a slice of bread from the table.

"That there are five thousand six hundred reasons why a twenty six year old should be married with kids, that's it," I said, and she scoffed.

"Did you take some bread? Mandla, we haven't prayed. Why do you go to church when you always forget to pray before eating?" she asked, and Dad paused eating.

"I'm sure I'm covered by all your numerous prayers, from church to those prayer meetings you attend," Dad said, and that did it. I threw my head backwards as I laughed crazily.

"I should have married that rich man that came asking for my hand in marriage those years, at least, you would have grown old as a single man," she said, pointing at Dad, who stifled a laugh.

"You've said that throughout our 30th years of marriage, and yet you would've chosen me with your eyes closed. You love me, just admit it," Dad said, her cheeks heated in a blush.

I rolled my eyes at their early morning display of love, my eyes moved to my watch. I'm supposed to report to work by 8:30, nothing more than that.

"Imani dear," my mom trailed, as she sat next to me.

"You know how much I love you, right? Both your siblings are happily married. Anna got married at twenty, and your brother is also married." she stated, and I sighed in frustration.

"Mom, marriage is not the measure of success." I countered her words immediately, and Dad nodded in agreement.

"She is talking back at me, Mandla, dear, your daughter just beat me up," she said dramatically, and I stared at her in amusement.

"Mom, I didn't..." I trailed, and she cut me off dramatically.

"Raising your voice at me, is like slapping me in the face," she said, and I took a deep breath in and out.

"I'm sorry," I breathed out before I could stop myself.

"I'm doing this because I love you. My good friend's son is coming over this weekend, and we thought..." She trailed.

"No, not another blind date, mommmm, you are my mother, you're not supposed to matchmake me, it's so weird," I complained.

"Listen, baby girl, this is the time you are supposed to be married. You know time waits for no one. By the time you're 30, a man becomes your prayer point, but God forbid, you won't let it get to that level before you get married," she said dramatically.

"Amen, but I'm not going on a blind date," I declared, and she rubbed her forehead.

"I think I need to fast and pray about this, my love," she turned to Dad, who chuckled in return. We were already used to her drama anyway.

"I am absolutely fine, mum. There's nothing wrong with me. You fell in love with my dad and married him, why can't I do the same?" I asked, frowning.

"Because your eyes have refused to open your eyes to the love walking around everywhere," she said, and my jaws literally dropped.

"A woman is like a perishable fruit, dear, the longer it stays, the more perishable it becomes." she quoted the lines from her favourite book.

"You know what's fine... I'd meet this man you're talking about, but if it doesn't work out, you'd stop," I demanded, and she smirked.

"Fine," she said, and I sighed softly. I don't need a soothsayer to tell me I knew she wouldn't keep to her words.

"Stay for breakfast, baby," she said immediately she noticed I wanted to leave the table.

"I have thirty minutes before I get to work, mom." I muttered and kissed both sides of her cheeks.

"You are way too stubborn, young woman," she sighed, I chuckled as I made my way out of our house while checking my bag for my car keys.

Driving towards my office, my mind went back to what just happened in the house. I sighed immediately. 'Since when did marriage become the measure of success?' I thought.

It's not like I should just jump on any guy that's available because I want to get married.

Relationships so far haven't worked for me. My high school boyfriend wanted to move to Stanford, and we broke things off because, well, I couldn't do a long distance relationship.

It's not just my thing, I can't be in cape town, and the man I'm dating is in another country, even another city. I can't imagine, I thought, then sighed again.

A few hours away is fine, I guess, but well, I'm scared of relationships; it has never worked for me. I know I'm the one at fault because I always cut things off before they got pretty serious, and now my mom has taken the job upon herself to find me a husband. Who the hell does that? I wondered with a frown.

"I should avoid going to the family house for a while," I muttered under my breath.

I'm from an average family, we are not poor, and we are not exactly super rich, we are just among the average ones. Dad works for a law firm, and mom owns a restaurant. I have two siblings, my older sister Anna, who is happily married, and my older brother Henry. He got married not long before I finished college, and that's what makes mom think I'm possessed since I'm not even dating anyone yet.

I'm a graduate, and for a year and six months I've been working with Delgado Constructions, one of the largest construction companies in the world. It's owned by the rich Spanish family, the Delgado's.

I happen to work for the branch here in cape town. The work environment is conducive, and my boss. I breathed out immediately at the thought of Mr. Delgado.

I've never met anyone as serious as that man in my life. He doesn't talk much; he's always quiet, and the most frustrating part is his workaholic nature. Mr. Leonardo Delgado, the CEO of Delgado Constructions.

The man travels around the world; one moment he is here, and the next, he is somewhere else. I can't say he's a bad boss, he's not someone I should tag as arrogant anyway. He's just there, he hates unserious people and fires anyone who doesn't take their jobs seriously.

I've been working on the top floor for almost two years now, and I don't think the man knows I exist. Technically, he knows I exist but pretends I don't.

Packing my car at the car pack, I rushed out and straightened my pencil skirt, then straightened out my blazers properly. My hair was tied in a neat ponytail. I picked up my handbag and rushed inside the tall Skyscraper building, which had the initials D&L Constructions, I hung my name tag quickly as I greeted the receptionist.

"My sweet potato, girl, I thought you'd be coming late today," Mrs. Emily, my senior colleague, teased as I rushed towards my office, I turned around and chuckled.

"I still have 5 minutes before I'm late. Is the boss in?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"The stars are in your favour. I'm sure he's not, break a leg" she said, and I raised my eyebrows.

"Oh, silly girl, it means good luck, now run along," she gestured with her hand, and I turned towards the elevator. I typed in my floor number, then checked my watch again. Immediately I got into my office and breathed out in relief.

"It's going to be a long day," I muttered under my breath.

I stared at my computer screen and then at the files on my table. Surprisingly, Mr. Delgado did not walk past my office as usual.

Maybe he's out of the country, I thought as my mind drifted to his beautiful Spanish accent, those blue eyes, his calm, quiet nature, and the way the man could pretend we weren't standing in front of him. I wonder what goes on in his mind.

He had striking features, jet black hair, a face that could hold a person's gaze, and the way he carried himself, I rubbed my forehead.

"He should be arrested for looking so good," I muttered under my breath, and my office line rang immediately.

"Hello, Imani Lerato from Delgado Constructions speaking," I speak in one breath.

COSTA RICA: 5 p.m.

LEONARDO POV

"Family dinner by 8 p.m. tonight, Leon. Mom doesn't want any excuses this time around," Scarlett, my older sister, informed me and I sighed softly.

"I'm not in Costa Rica," I said, and she fell quiet on the other end as I loosened my tie while sitting in the back seat of my car.

"Leon, don't be ridiculous. Mum was mad the other time. Don't get her angry again," she said, and I rubbed my forehead.

"You don't believe me," I uttered softly.

"I asked your personal assistant, do you know he never lies to me? Grow up." she uttered the last part in frustration.

"I'm not a kid, sis," I mumbled, biting my lower lip.

"Agreed, so grow up," she said, and I made a mental note to warn my personal assistant.

"And don't you dare think of scaring that poor guy. Dinner by 8 p.m., don't make me storm your mansion," she warned, and I cursed under my breath. Storming my mansion is the easiest thing for my sister.

This crazy woman can do anything in her moment of anger. She's happily married with two kids, and not even her husband can stop her when she decides to go about with her crazy attitude.

My Family being one of the wealthiest in the world and country is not something I'm proud of. Dad cheated on my mom with his secretary, and that was it. My mum left the relationship and refused to offer him a divorce.. That's one thing about my mother, she's as fierce as a fighter. Dad took the best lawyers and still ended up stuck in the marriage.

He continued his unofficial relationship with his secretary, and now he has a son with her. A son that's around my age, my blood went cold at the thought of Eduardo. I rubbed my temple to remain calm, as memories of the horrible thing he did to me clouded my mind.

My eyes stung even as I thought of it. Layla, my ex. The first woman I ever fell in love with was a fashion designer. I supported her in everything, emotionally and even in her business, yet everything I did for her didn't seem enough.

After that toxicity, I wrote off relationships. No matter what I did, she wanted more, and that's when I realized that no matter what I did for her, it'd never be enough. But above all, sleeping with my stepbrother was the limit.

She cheated. Images of me walking in on them in that compromising state flashed through my memory, and I shut my eyes tight. It was supposed to be our two year anniversary as a couple.

The funniest part was the fact that I was about to propose to her, I had it all planned out, I thought as I chuckled bitterly.

I planned a dinner in her favourite restaurant, and then I'd pop the question. But there she was, f*cking my step brother like her life depended on it, as he plunged into her.

That was it. After that, I stopped involving myself in anything called relationships.

Getting over Layla wasn't exactly easy, and I don't know how I would have passed through that situation without my best buddies by my side.

I've always been the quiet type. I didn't find the idea of sleeping with numerous women fascinating. I've always been a one woman man; if I'm in, I'm in.

I've been celibate since Layla... I just quit, and now my mom has taken it upon herself to play matchmaker in my love life. It's so embarrassing. The craziest thing is the way the media keeps spreading fake news about my relationship status.

All because mom thinks it's her duty to find the right daughter in law and the perfect date. I can't count how many blind dates I've attended these past months because she won't stop until I've found the perfect one.

Mom and Scarlett are after my life. I'm sure this dinner is another plot of theirs to hook me up. I'm not thinking of marriage anytime soon. Maybe I'd get a woman to bear me a child, and that's it.

Surrogacy would do. I don't want any obsessed woman after my life, but how do I get out of mom and Scarlett's crazy ideas? I muttered under my breath, and my headache with a headache.

Costa Rica: 7 p.m.

LEONARDO POV

I scrolled through my phone in annoyance, as my driver pulled over at my mansion. He opened the door for me, and I muttered a quick thanks. A message about a meeting at the club house by 10 p.m. flashed on my screen, adding to my frustration.

Deciding to ignore the message, I pocketed my phone, only to have it ring immediately. With a sigh, I answered, already knowing who it was.

"Why are you after my life?" I grumbled, recognizing Pierre's mischievous laugh on the other end.

"Calm down, man. I'm not the cause of your predicament," he teased, in his thick accent adding flair to his words.

"I have no predicament," I retorted, almost too quickly, realizing I might have given away more than I intended to.

"Well, I'm sure you do," Pierre continued, refusing to drop the subject.

"Fine, Mom called me for dinner. I don't even know how the woman knows my every move. It's like she's after my life," I groaned, frustration evident in my voice.

"Well, she's worried. You haven't been in a relationship since..." Pierre trailed off, wisely avoiding the mention of Layla's name.

"I'm fine, no girlfriend, no stress. How about that?" I replied, as I made my way upstairs, shedding the day's formalities.

"Oh, please, what's life without women? They make life interesting," he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"I pity the women who fall for your sweet little lies, Pierre Schmitt," I said, earning a chuckle from him.

"Adonis and I will be waiting for you at the clubhouse. Hopefully, your mom doesn't get you married before your arrival," he teased before ending the call.

"You're crazy," I muttered to myself, throwing my phone on the bed and chuckling at the absurdity of my life.

Pierre Schmitt and Adonis Stravakos, my best friends since my university days at Oxford.

Changing into more casual attire, I checked my phone to find missed calls from Scarlett, my sister. Frowning, I wondered why they were calling me like their lives depended on it. All because they wanted me at dinner? This whole situation was making me suspicious.

As I headed towards my mom's estate, different thoughts raced through my mind. The Delgado mansion is a symbol of wealth and family expectations.

Entering the largeness of my family mansion, the evening air carried a mix of tension and anticipation. Workers in blue uniforms moved busily about their tasks as one of the guards greeted me.

"Welcome, young master," they greeted, and I nodded in acknowledgment.

"Leon!" Scarlett's voice echoed as she descended the stairs, a bowl of fruits in hand. Cheek kisses were exchanged.

"I won't stay long, though," I informed her, already planning my escape.

"Why?" she asked me, frowning.

"I'm meeting up with the guys at the clubhouse," I revealed, anticipating her disapproval.

"Why?" she questioned, turning her attention fully to me.

"I'm not a groom, stop teasing me, you're getting on my nerves." I defended myself, but Scarlett was uninterested.

"Fillgo (son)," Mom called, I went to her and hugged her.

We sat down for dinner, and almost immediately I heard the clicking of heels.

Oh no, I know what is happening; please let it not be what I'm thinking it is. I prayed in my mind. I turned, and my cheeks flushed in embarrassment at seeing a lady exchanging cheek kisses with my mother.

"Good evening, Aunt," she greeted excitedly, and I glared at Scarlett, who chuckled at me with frustration written in my face.

"It's so good to see you, Abigail. Leon arrived earlier, and we have been waiting for you," she said, and the girl blushed slightly.

"Seriously?? Mum?? Scar??" I asked, facing Scarlet, who gave me the calm down sign.

How was I supposed to calm down? When mom just said we were waiting patiently for this...

Ara. ... Anna, whatever her name is again.

"Son," she whispered softly, and I tried to divert my mind.

"Leon," mom called, and I turned politely towards her and gave her a small smile.

No matter what, I wasn't the type to treat a woman badly, I just didn't have it in me to treat anyone less.

"Hey, I'm Abigail, Victoria's secret angel," she said, smiling flirtily introducing herself.

"Leonardo Delgado," I uttered, shaking her hands.

"You're so handsome in person, the videos, pictures, magazines, and social media photos didn't do you justice," she said in awe, and I tried my best not to make things awkward.

This wasn't the first time I'd gotten a reaction like this, anyway. It happens a lot. It's worse when Pierre, Adonis, and I go out together; they treat us like freaking celebrities.

The funny thing is that we have nothing to do with the entertainment industry.

"She's from Cuba, her father happens to be one of our top investors." Mom went on and on, preaching about the particular girl I'm not even interested in knowing, and the more I pretended to listen to their boring talks, the more my head banged with headache.

I'm beginning to wonder if the universe is against me or something. Dinner ended, and I felt a wave of relief as I got up to leave. However, my mother had other plans.

"Son," she called, her tone carrying a hint of mischief. "Abby will be free this weekend, and I was thinking you guys could link up for dinner."

I turned towards Abby, who blushed at the attention. I was caught off guard, I hesitated but managed to navigate the situation.

"I'd get back to you, I need to adjust my schedule and create time if I can," I replied smartly, shaking Abby's hand and heer cheeks flushed.

"Goodnight, Mama," I said, kissing my mother's forehead, and I bid Scarlett farewell.

When I left Delgado's mansion, I went straight to the clubhouse. When I got there, everywhere was buzzing with music and laughter as Pierre and Adonis welcomed me.

"Hey, Delgado!" Pierre raised his glass.

"The groom arrives," Adonis added with a smirk, enjoying the ongoing joke.

"I'm not a groom, stop teasing me. You're getting on my nerves," I said, taking a seat.

"Remind me why I'm friends with both of you again." I sighed, half amused and half frustrated.

"Well, because we can tolerate your sorry a*s," Pierre uttered, earning laughter from Adonis.

"How did it go? You finally liked the girl they brought this time around." Pierre asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

"Don't start with me, of course, I didn't. She is Victoria's secret angel," I said, dismissing the topic.

"What's wrong with her being Victoria's secret angel?" Adonis asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm done with women," I declared, surprising both Pierre and Adonis.

"Take that back, mate, how can you be done with women?" Pierre exclaimed dramatically.

"So you're into men now? Please don't fall in love with me, I can't do without p*ssy," Pierre teased, earning an eye roll from Adonis.

"Stop being dramatic," I said, attempting to clarify myself.

"So, what are you going to do now? Speak now. I understand you're gay, Adonis and I are willing to help you.

"Pierre," Adonis and I called simultaneously, shaking our heads at his thought.

"See why I said people don't value their helpers when they are right in front of them?" Pierre said he was enjoying the moment.

"I'm not gay, guys, I'm straight, you should know that by now," I clarified.

"Yeah, but how do you expect us to believe it is functioning properly when you avoid women like a plague?" Pierre asked, gesturing towards my lower region.

"This is so embarrassing," I muttered under my breath.

"It's not as embarrassing as your mom hooking you up with different women. Before you know it, you'd be recorded in the Guinness Book of World Records as the first man to go on dates for 45 years," Pierre said, laughing.

"You said you wanted to help me, but now you are making things worse. What kind of friend are you?" I sighed, realizing that, with friends like Pierre, this discussion is inevitable.

"Say, please," Pierre demanded, and I scoffed.

Adonis, seizing the moment, decided to add to the issues. "C'mon, sweet boy, say please."

"Fine, please," I grumbled, playing along with their absurd suggestions.

"Say it romantically, like I'm your Charlotte and you are my George. Do you love me?" Pierre continued, laughing stupidly..

"I'm not playing movie night with you, and stop quoting Queen Charlotte," I said, attempting to divert the conversation.

"Well, you can always get a fake girlfriend. I mean, pay someone to pretend to be your girlfriend, at least for six months or a year. Then, just when your mom thinks marriage is the next step, poof, you guys break up," Pierre suggested, outlining a plan.

"That, my friend, is a terrible idea," Adonis advised immediately.

"And then I'd pretend to be heartbroken for the whole year," I added.

"Fake girlfriend, I like the sound of that," I thought.