Mr Not Quite Good Enough Read Online Free PDF Page A

ignoring him.
    â€œYeah, okay . . . Be like that.” The kombi driver shouted to Ozee, “You gotta tough one there, my bru! Later!”
    Gorata watched the kombi screech out of the station. She hated men who spoke to women like that. That was another problem with guys like Ozee – they had friends like that kombi driver. She couldn’t deal with such a boyfriend.
    Ozee came up to Gorata’s window and spoke in that soft, whispery voice of his that drove Gorata crazy with its sexiness. “So, Lady Gorata, when are you gonna let me take you out on a real date, not this jumping off bridges that your men seem to prefer?”
    â€œHe’s not my man, and it wasn’t a date.”
    â€œOkay, fine. But how about you let me take you out, show you how a lady is supposed to be treated?” Ozee smiled, and Gorata wanted to reach forward and touch his beautiful mouth, run her fingers over his delicious dimples.
    â€œI’m . . . actually seeing someone,” Gorata said. The words sounded hollow and meaningless in the tension-filled air between them.
    Ozee shook his head, the smile gone. “Too bad for me then.”
    Johan came bouncing back into the car. He gave Ozee R500. “Keep the change, man,” he said and drove out of the petrol station. Gorata saw Ozee standing to the side, watching them leave.
    As Johan stopped at her house, she turned to him and said, “Well, here we are. Hope Australia treats you well.”
    â€œSure, thanks. Hey, it was nice hanging out with you.” Johan leaned forward and gave her an awkward kiss on the cheek.
    Gorata got out of the car and waved goodbye. As he drove away, all she could see as the car grew smaller and smaller was Ozee’s disappointed face.
    * * *
    â€œWhere are you off to?” Amita asked as Gorata rushed down the hall of their office suite.
    â€œI have a press briefing in five minutes,” Gorata said while making her way towards the conference room.
    â€œPress briefing about what?”
    â€œThe new Cellacom BEE shareholding deal.”
    Landmark Investments was involved in negotiations to assist new black investors in buying shares in the largest cellphone company in the country. It was a simple deal that allowed for small investments from people who had little knowledge about the stock market, giving them a chance to start investing in it a little at a time. Gorata was very excited about the new programme.
    â€œOkay, then that explains it,” Amita said.
    â€œExplains what?” Gorata stopped. Now she was confused.
    â€œThe conference room is overflowing. I think someone got the wires crossed. There might be some journalists in there, but it looks like half of Joburg pitched up too.”
    Gorata’s face dropped. “No!”
    â€œYes,” Amita said, nodding.
    Gorata turned back to her office where her PA, Ndo, was busy typing. “Who did you send the press release to?”
    He started paging though some files on his desk. “Ah . . . everyone.”
    â€œEveryone, as in who?”
    â€œYou said everyone and so I sent it to everyone.”
    Gorata wanted to scream. Ndo and she were not working together very well. He needed everything explained in detail, minute detail, and if she had to do that much explaining she might as well do the thing herself, which is what she usually ended up doing. “I meant everyone in the media, not in the world! That’s what a press conference means – a conference for the press. You’re the personal assistant of a PRO, I thought you’d understand that by now.”
    â€œOops . . . sorry.” He actually did look sorry, and Gorata felt bad about losing her patience.
    â€œOkay, anyway, it’s done now,” she said. “Come with me, we need to make a plan.”
    Amita was right. It did look as if half of Joburg had pitched up. The tables in the conference room had been removed and it was now full of chairs, but