The Cheating Houseboy

Short Story

The Cheating Houseboy

By Lawrence Kadzitche


The young man stopped her as she walked out of the supermarket. “Excuse me, are you…Jane?”


Shade was about to dismiss him her usual rudeness to men when something about him stopped her. This was not just any young man. Everything about him, from his black stripped suit, white silk shirt to pointed shoes, bespoke of money. Even his wristwatch was an expensive golden Rolex. In his right hand, dangled car keys with a BMW tag.


This was the type of man she was always telling her friends she wanted for a husband. Not just a man with money but one made of money. She made the decision. She was going to get this man at any cost.


“No, I’m not,” she replied at length, flashing him a smile.


“Well, you look so much alike,” he said. “Only you’re more beautiful.”


She bit her nails and rolled her eyes in a way that was sensual and shy at the same time. “Don’t flatter me; isn’t Jane your old lost girlfriend from your school days?”


“No, just an old friend,” he said and took off his sunglasses. “Since you are not Jane, may I have the pleasure of knowing you?”


“I’m Shade,” she replied. “And you are?”


“RJ Khaki, owner and CEO of Investments RJ.”


Shade was impressed. So the guy was the owner of a company. This was really her lucky day. “Well, that’s impressive; owning a company at such a young age. Your wife must be proud of you, Mr Khaki.”


“Well, I’m not yet married…”


She cut him. “Then your girlfriend, Mr Khaki…”


“I’m RJ to all my friends,” he interrupted him. “As for a girlfriend, I’m still looking for one,” he paused and looked at her with open admiration. “I think I’ve found one.”


Shade could not believe her ears. The handsome young man was making it clear he had madly fallen in love with her. God had finally answered her prayers.


RJ glanced at his wrist watch. “Shade, I’ve delayed you. Let me drop you wherever you are going.”


She followed him to the gleaming blue BMW parked in the parking lot, her heart beating wildly. The girls at the office would die of envy when she told them of the wonderful young man he had found.


But if she had gone into the mind of RJ, she would die of shock. But how could she go into his mind?


At that moment RJ was thinking that his plan was going on far much better than he had hoped. The meeting at the supermarket was not accidental. It had been planned.


Ever since he had first seen Shade a year ago, he had hopelessly fallen in love with her. But his friends had told him she was outside his reach. They said she had sworn that she would only marry a wealthy man.


“Even if she wanted to marry a person of average income, you wouldn’t fit that bill,” they told him plainly. “Do you honestly think a beautiful girl like her would marry a houseboy?”


The answer was no. The only way he was going to win her over was to get rich. But he knew he wouldn’t get rich on the wages of a houseboy.


An idea occurred to him. If he couldn’t get rich, he could at least pretend to be so. His mind clicked to a decision. Shade wanted a rich husband. He would present her one.


The opportunity availed itself when RJ Khaki, his employer went for a long business trip to UK. Since RJ Khaki was single, he was left in sole charge of the house.


He immediately stepped into his employer’s shoes. He was no longer Nyamulani the houseboy but RJ owner and CEO of Investments RJ. He moved from the servants’ quarters into the main house. He slept in RJ’s bed, wore RJ’s clothes and drove RJ’s BMW. He did all this to set the background in his quest to win Shade’s love. And now he was so close to achieving that goal.


He dropped Shade at her house. The two agreed to meet again. Within a few days, a passionate love affair mushroomed between the two. Most of the time, Shade slept at RJ’s house.


Their fool’s paradise exploded one afternoon. Lost in the ecstasy of making love, neither they did not hear the car that arrived outside the house nor hear the front door open and a man let himself into the house. They did not even notice when the man entered the bedroom through the door they had left open. It was only after the man cleared his throat that they became aware of his unwelcome presence in the room.


Nyamulani’s reaction was that of deep shock. “Mr. Khaki!” he gasped. “I thought…”


RJ’s face was ugly with anger. “You thought I wouldn’t be back until next month?”


The mouth of the man who called himself RJ opened and closed like that of a choking person, his body quaking with fear.


“RJ, who’s this intruder?” Shade asked, covering herself with a bed sheet. “What’s he doing here?”


“He…he’s my boss,” Nyamulani said weakly. “This is his house.”


“What are you talking about?” Shade asked.


“I’m sorry, Shade. I lied to you. I don’t own a company. I’m not a CEO. My name is not even RJ. I’m Nyamulani, RJ’s houseboy.”


The answer shocked Shade. She had been tricked. The thought that she had turned down so many better suitors only to be fooled by a houseboy drained her strength.


“Nyamulani, take your whore and leave my house now. You’re fired!”


Shade couldn’t believe this was happening. There must be a mistake somewhere. He looked at Nyamulani for support. But the wretched houseboy was crumpled on the floor weeping uncontrollably and didn’t even look at her.


Mastering the little dignity that was left in her, she put on her clothes and said, “I’m not a prostitute. He fooled me. I thought he owned this house.”


“That’s what happens when you put money before everything,” RJ said sarcastically. “Now get out!”



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Lawrence Kadzitche

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