Kololi arrives at MTN towers in the guise of admin support, all dark-framed glasses and even darker hair spilling like ink over her shoulders, perched on a tufted leather couch with a steno pad balanced on one stockinged thigh. Her fitted little black dress skims a lithe, toned frame, and the lace welt of her sheer black holdups peeks from beneath the hem, teasing the rose tattoo that climbs her upper thigh. Her pen moves across the page with studied concentration, yet the tilt of her chin and the flicker of her mouth hint that she is more than happy to be persuaded away from her notes.

A little coaxing is all it takes. Kololi rises, tugging the snug hem of her dress higher to reveal the contrast cream welts of a second pair of stockings, her silky legs elongated and statuesque against the dark leather. The dress drifts away, leaving her in a shimmering navy bra and lace-trimmed knickers that glitter against her creamy skin, her slender frame folded luxuriously into the couch. A red-lacquered fingertip traces the lace at her hip while her inked thigh catches the soft afternoon light, glasses still in place, the office girl fantasy distilled into something knowing, mischievous, and quietly electric.