Joelyn hopped into her Aston Martin and drove
herself around town, thinking that she was unrecognizable in her
new hairless form. But she was spotted as she walked into the Gucci
store on Rodeo Drive in Beverley Hills, and all of a sudden there
were cries of delight and shock as a crowd formed around her.
Everyone pulled out their phones and snapped away at the
odd-looking celebrity, and in quick time pictures of a shaven
Joelyn Smith were circulating on the Internet. Meanwhile, there was
such a commotion outside the Gucci store – whose staff had wisely
scurried a terrified Joelyn inside the store and closed its doors –
that it alerted the police, who were forced to disperse the crowd
and bring some semblance of order to the place.
Inside the store, Joelyn calmly shopped
around and spent an unmentionable amount of money on fragrances,
jewelry, clothes and shoes. When she was through with her shopping,
the police, for her security, were forced to bring her car to the
front of the store. Only then did the six police officers, who had
arrived in pairs in three separate cars, allow her out of the store
and accompany her to her car. They loaded her grocery bags into her
car and she drove away, accompanied by two police officers in a car
that followed at a close distance behind hers.
Joelyn’s shaving off of her head received
widespread condemnation and also became the subject of jokes by
comedians across the US. Some people even went further to say that
this “sudden and unexpected” shaving of Joelyn Smith’s hair by none
other than the star herself, indicated that she was highly mentally
unbalanced. In America, there was so much obsessive attention to
Joelyn’s hair that Americans – except perhaps those in Alaska, for
reasons explained earlier, and Washington, who are rarely stirred
up by anything else other than politics – forgot that they had
re-elected Obama to a second term of office and his agenda would
affect all their lives in a more significant way than Joelyn
Smith’s hair.
December came to pass, and the worldwide
fixation with Joelyn’s hair subsided. In the first week of the new
year, Joelyn’s name was back on people’s lips, when it was
announced, by the same publicist who had announced only a month
previously that Ms. Smith was not addicted to drugs and/or alcohol,
that the same Ms. Smith was going to a rehabilitation facility to
be treated for a drug and alcohol addiction.
‘…Ms. Smith would like to convey to her
family, friends, fans, the various companies whose brands she
endorses, and the general public at large that she is deeply
disappointed by her actions. She knows that many children look up
to her as their role model, and she is sorry to parents all over
America and the world for setting a bad example. She asks that you
find it in your hearts to forgive her...To members of the media, we
appreciate and recognize the importance of your presence in
society, but we ask that you exercise restraint, and respect her
privacy in this time of difficulty for Ms. Smith…To her fans, we
ask for your compassion and prayers in this time of need…’
Joelyn was absent from the press conference
at the W Hotel in Los Angeles, but the conference, a big area with
a holding capacity of 300, was packed to capacity with journalists,
TV reporters, photographers and TV cameras. A flurry of hands went
up in the air when Ms. Smith’s publicist opened the floor for
questions, after telling the gathering of journalists that she was
not here for glory, but just to illuminate the facts regarding
Joelyn Smith’s impending stay at a rehabilitation center, and that
she would answer questions pertaining to that subject – and that
subject only.
She picked a balding, middle-aged man with a
big belly and ill-fitting clothes and the ugliest eye-glasses she
had ever seen on a human being, to ask the first question. ‘How
long is Joelyn Smith gonna stay at rehab?’
‘Four months.’
The Group Chief Executive Officer of
Vermuelen Holdings, Hudson Vermuelen, had inherited, apart from
business acumen, one trait from his late father. He loved women;
and now that he was divorced, it was something he was free to
admit. He was currently in what he preferred to call a “spatial”
relationship with a 28-year-old business lawyer who worked for
Edward Nathan Sonnenbergs, one of the country’s leading law firms.
They had met through their respective jobs. Their busy schedules
gave them both an excuse to see each other occasionally, but they
were both happy to maintain their love affair. They got along very
well together, but they both knew that if they were to live
together their relationship would come to an end, because they were
both so alike that there would be no room for compromise. Like
Hudson, Carlin was spoilt, success-driven and authoritative.
Hudson had spent the holiday season in
Durban, staying at the Umhlanga mansion he had been left by his
father. There, he enjoyed the city’s beaches, the night life and
the various delights offered to him by Durban’s top prostitutes.
When he returned to Johannesburg to start the new year, he
purchased an Audi A8 as a New Year’s present for himself. On the
4
th
of January, he drove the car to
work at the company’s headquarters, a 10-story building on Maude
Street in Sandton.
He was 34-years-old. He controlled and partly
owned a multi-billion dollar, multi-national business holding that
had generated revenues of $2,25 billion in the previous year. His
office at Vermuelen Towers was a sumptuous indicator of the
position he held in the Vermuelen Group of Companies. It was a
corner office, with loads of space and decorated in a modern style
that Hudson had ordered after his father’s death. Hudson had
painted the walls black, the ceiling red, and put high quality
Italian tiles that were completely white on the floor. The result
was a jarring look that caused all sorts of reactions from visitors
to the CEO’s office. The office was managed by three women with the
following job titles on their respective salary advice slips:
Office Manager, Executive Personal Assistant, and Assistant to the
Executive PA.
The three of them collectively organized the
boss’ business schedule. They were the first line of communication
between his office and business associates, the public, and other
offices within the company; they took care of the boss’ business
and holiday trips; they arranged breakfast and lunch for the boss;
and generally did various other chores required to keep the office
and person of Hudson Vermuelen functioning smoothly. During his
business trips, Hudson always traveled with any two of the three
women.
All three were in their twenties. They
were all beautiful. One was a Colored from Cape Town, having grown
up there, and then moving to Johannesburg to seek fame and fortune.
The closest she had come to attaining that quest was working for
one of the country’s leading businessmen, Hudson Vermuelen. The
other two were White girls who had grown up in different suburbs of
Johannesburg and each hoped to ensnare a rich man into marriage.
There should be no illusion as to the fact that Hudson was sexually
attracted to all these three young beautiful women, but his
professionalism wouldn’t permit him to commit a scandal with any of
them. In short, his body said
Yes
,
but his mind told him
No
. So,
he had learned to content himself with only fantasizing about their
bodies.
The 4
th
of January, 2013, was a Friday. The building housing the
headquarters of Vermuelen Group of Companies (VGC) was completely
deserted. The company’s employees would resume work in the New Year
on Monday the 7
th
of
January. Hudson was at his office to fetch some top-secret
documents that were locked in a safe at his office. He opened the
safe and pulled out a MacBook laptop. He pulled it out of the safe
and went with it to his desk. He sat down and switched on the
computer. He typed in his password and the machine sprang to life
in a flash. Hudson transferred some documents from the MacBook to a
USB flash drive that he would use on his home computer later that
day.
The MacBook held private and sensitive
information regarding VGC’s mining unit’s impending partnership
with a Canadian-listed firm which was interested in developing a
mine in South Africa. The project would require an estimated
initial capital investment of $443 million, and the mine would
produce platinum, palladium, rhodium and gold. Talks between VGC’s
mining unit and the Canadian mining firm were at an advanced stage,
and a meeting between the two companies was scheduled for Monday
the 7
th
of
January at VGC headquarters. For business reasons, the venture was
still a closely guarded secret, known only to senior members of the
two companies’ executive management. The talks on Monday would also
revolve around venturing into Zimbabwe, which held the world’s
second-biggest platinum deposits after South Africa.
Hudson was still busy on the MacBook when he
was disturbed by a message received on his BlackBerry. He picked it
up and noticed that it was from Samantha Ashford.
Hi, have you heard the news about Joelyn? We
need to meet…There’s something we have to discuss.
Hudson quickly left his desk and went into
the adjoining office of his Executive PA. The MacBook was never
connected to the Internet, to protect it from viruses and malware.
The USB flash drives he plugged into it were formatted first and
eliminated of all risk factors before being used on the MacBook. He
switched on his PA’s desk computer, typed in his password and
accessed the Internet. He read from the
US
Today
website that Joelyn Smith, his ex-wife, had been admitted
to a rehab center to be treated for drug and alcohol addiction for
four months…
He called Samantha.
She answered on the first ring. ‘Hudson,
where are you?’
‘I’m at the office in Sandton. I just read
about Joelyn. You said there’s something you’d like to
discuss—.’
‘Not over the phone. I’m at my place. Can you
come over?’
‘Sure. Gimme twenty minutes.’
He made it in thirty-two. When he arrived,
she was sitting in the living room, having a glass of fruit juice.
She opened the door for him and led him back to the living room.
There was a slight drizzle outside, and the top of his head was wet
with water droplets. She offered him a drink and he asked for a
glass of what she was drinking. She was dressed in khaki shorts
that clung to her hips and ended halfway along her thighs,
flip-flops, and a yellow body-hugging sleeveless top. She was the
same height as Joelyn; average. She was neither slim nor fat, just
in between. She was a good-looking woman, with lovely green eyes, a
pretty face and an even prettier smile. She turned around and he
noticed how her ass filled every space of her shorts. He felt
himself stir inside his pants.
There existed between Hudson and Samantha
that awkward attraction that sometimes occurs between a lover’s
best friend and the best friend’s lover. It had existed while
Hudson and Joelyn were still married, and they had both been aware
of it. It still existed now; their respective body language proved
it. Samantha handed him the glass. He took a sip and stared at her.
She smiled nervously and looked down. Then she brought her eyes
back to his face.
He smiled at her. ‘Sam…I…’ he stammered and
his voice trailed off.
She came to his rescue. ‘Can we sit?’
They sat down next to each other.
‘Um…’ began Samantha. ‘Joelyn’s having a
difficult time right now. She needs all the support she can get
from everyone. If you can, please pay her a visit. I know she’ll
appreciate it.’
He nodded. ‘You’re right. I didn’t realize
that she…’ He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. ‘I will call
her. Do you know where I can reach her?’
‘You can’t. No phones or interactive gadgets
are allowed at the rehab center. In case of an emergency, you can
phone the center and they’ll let you speak to her. But I think it’s
better to pay her a visit. I’m leaving for the States with her
mother, brother and two of her sisters on Sunday. You can come with
us if you want.’
‘Can’t. Got a crucial meeting on Monday. But
I promise I’ll make time for it when I can.’
Their conversation dried up. Samantha gazed
at her hands. Hudson, feeling awkward, got up. ‘I have to go. I got
a—.’
She leapt to her feet. ‘Of course. I’ll see
you to the door.’
Samantha led the way to the front door and
swung it open. They stood looking at each other. Then he raised his
hand to her left shoulder and gave her a smile of assurance. She
smiled back timidly. He took a step outside, hesitated, then turned
back. Slowly, he pushed the door shut. He stared inquisitively at
her eyes. She stared back curiously at him. He leaned forward and
down towards her mouth. Their lips locked and they kissed with a
fiery and hungry passion. He inserted his hands inside her blouse
and grabbed her breasts. She moaned and sucked hard on his
tongue.
He quickly zipped open her shorts and pushed
them forcefully down her legs. He cupped her buttocks in his hands
and caressed them as he kissed her lips. He turned her around and
pushed her shoulders down. She bent over and stuck her buttocks
back at him. He pulled the maroon cloth of her G-string, embedded
deep in between her buttocks, and pushed it over the left buttock.
He quickly zipped open his fly and his penis sprang out lividly.
Its head glistened with moisture. He grabbed it in his right hand
and pushed it between her tightly-clamped thighs. He sliced between
her thighs into the soft, warm flesh of her vagina and heard her
whimper like a hungry dog. He took her from behind, the two of them
standing, but the position was uncomfortable because he was taller
than her.