If there was an award for people who just loved to remind you over and over about something you already knew about, Mona would definitely take the cake. I groan, declining her call for the umpteenth time that Saturday morning. It was just 8:30 a.m and the photo shoot did not start until 10:30 a.m. But I guess Mona just wanted me to know I had promised to accompany her to the photo shoot with Rahim. I was still dressing up, putting my hair in a high bun. I was about to lay my edges, but with the pressure Mona was mounting on me, I could not. I checked myself in the mirror for the last time, and satisfied with my look, I left my bedroom.
"Are you ready?" Mom asked, sipping from her mug. She was in a velvet robe and her hair was in a bonnet. She had been a bit slow for the past few days after the visit of The Shameless Comrades. The doctor said it was normal for pregnant women and she seemed fine apart from her sluggish behaviour so I just brushed it aside. I dipped my phone into the pocket of my ripped jeans and sent a text to Mona.
Salma:
I'll be there. Stop calling!!
"Yeah, Mona's giving me too much pressure." I slumped into the sofa next to Mom. She chuckled, picking the remote from the coffee table.
"I mean, you can only imagine just how much this photo shoot means to her and what it would mean to her if you showed up. To witness an important milestone in her life," she replied, rubbing my shoulder. I nodded, clicking my tongue.
"I guess I must get going to the photo shoot. Bye Mom." I planted a kiss on her forehead, rising from the sofa. She nodded, waving. I returned the wave and got out of the house. But I stopped in my tracks when I noticed a black car by the gate. Leaning against the car was Rahim. He was in a white T-shirt and a pair of black Cargo Pants. His white sneakers looked brand new as I saw not a speck of brown on it. He looked sleek, casual and very good all at once. My cheeks heated up, but I slapped them a bit, noticing he was looking at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you okay?" he asked, walking towards me.
"Yeah," I replied, scratching the back of my neck. "I'm just surprised you're here."
"Mona called," at the mention of her name, I rolled my eyes. "She said you'd probably need a ride since your mom may not be able to drive to the venue, so I decided to pick you up." He pointed at his car. I nodded, mumbling a thank you as we walked towards the car. He opened a side door and bowed. I laughed at his gesture of chivalry and slid into the car.
"Thanks. At least I know chivalry isn't totally dead," I teased, earning a smile from him.
"Chivalry isn't dead at all. But sometimes, it just depends on the girl you're being courteous to," he replied, winking at me. Did he just... wink at me? If you needed a source of heat to fry your eggs, my cheeks would be a good source for that. I shifted in my seat as Rahim sat by me.
"Hamza, please send us to NaaStudios," he said. It was then that I noticed a bald middle-aged man was in the front seat. He looked amused, probably from watching the little exchange I had with Rahim. I tried not to look into the rear view mirror as the engine of the Porsche purred and eased onto the road.
My phone beeped and I checked my notifications. It was a message from Mona.
Mona:
Just tell me you're on your way.
Salma:
Yes, Rahim and I are on our way.
Mona:
Thank God. Call me when you get to the studio.
Salma:
Sure thing, Captain Mona.
Mona:
Whatever, I'm waiting.
I dropped my phone in my black shoulder bag and sank into the seat.
"Was it Mona?" I nodded, closing my eyes. "She said we should call once we get to the studio."
"Mona sure does love to repeat information, doesn't she?" Rahim giggled.
"I mean, you can just imagine how much this means to her. Bliss Magazine, as you know, can help boost her modelling career in more ways than one. We can even share in the fame," he replied, jerking my elbow. My eyes fluttered open as I turned my neck to face him.
"Yeah, Mona has read all editions of the magazine and she follows their trends like the Ten Commandments. She deserves it and I know she's going to knock their socks off!"
"That's the spirit," Rahim said, seeming proud of me. I smiled, looking ahead. We were a few buildings away from the studio and with the rate at which Hamza was easily weaving through traffic, we would be there before 10 a.m. And come on, we knew Ghana time. 10:30 a.m would translate to 11:00 a.m.
Soon, Hamza dropped us in front of NaaStudios. It was a large building close to the Achimota Mall. The outer walls were painted black and white with a large illuminated sign with "NaaStudios" engraved on it. The building looked aesthetically pleasing; something out of a magazine. But I guess that's what one would expect of a photo studio. Rahim and I entered through a large glass door and I took my phone out of my bag, dialing Mona's number. She picked up on the first ring, typical.
"Hello? Are you guys here?" she asked over the phone.
"Yeah, we're here at the front office," I answered, looking around the reception. There were a few benches and bean bags littered around the place. Rahim and I sat on one of the benches.
"I'll be there in a jiffy." And sure enough, we soon saw Mona looked drop dead gorgeous. Her eyes lighted up as soon as she saw us. She gave a shy smile walking towards us. She was in a green dress which fit loosely around her slim figure. Her block sandals added a few inches to her height, and whoever did her makeup needed a standing ovation.
I stood up to give her a hug and when I pulled back, she had a few tears running down her face, making me mortified. "Mona, don't cry. You look like a million bucks, and please don't waste the efforts of your MUA by crying." Mona punched me in the rubs, giggling. She dabbed at her face with a tissue in her hand.
"I'm sorry, but this is too much for me. This is like my first real project and it's just so... riveting!" She jumped with excitement, forcing some tears back.
"Well, you're gonna go in there and slay like you always do," I assured her. Rahim then stood up, enveloping us in a group hug. The smell of his cologne hit my nose like a whiff of fresh air.
"Mona, you look great. Why don't we go for lunch after the shoot? My treat." Mona pulled away from the hug, sniffling. She nodded.
"That would be nice. You guys can get whatever you want from that fridge by the third bench," she pointed at a tabletop fridge a few benches away from where Rahim and I were seated. We nodded, knowing we would not really need much.
Mona later left us to ourselves. Rahim and I engaged in small talk, waiting for the photo shoot to begin. A few minutes later, a young woman entered the studio with a camera slung around her neck. A blue backpack was hanging on one shoulder. Her braided her was in a tight ponytail and her denim jumpsuit looked good on her. She turned in our direction and took in a sharp breath. I knew this woman and she was heading right towards my direction.
"Salma?" she asked, a smile on her dark face.
"Naama?" I replied, standing up. We embraced for a moment and pulled apart. Naama was like the nation's photographer. She was reputed for being a phenomenal photographer and she had once taken a picture of me and my family(when Dad was still around) for Christmas. The picture ended up in the living room since it turned out so good. The last I heard of her, she was opening her own studio but she never gave a name.
"I never knew this was your studio," I said, admiring the place for the umpteenth time.
"Yeah, I guess I never dropped the name during the interviews, but this is my studio. Do you have a friend taking part in the photo shoot?" she asked.
"Yes, she's called Desdemona."
"Oh, Mona. Cool kid, great talent. She's so natural in front of the camera. I'm sure Nadia will love her."
"Who's Nadia?"
"Oh, she's the editor-in-chief of Bliss Magazine. She's like Ghana's version of Miranda Priestly."
After exchanging a few words with Naama, she greeted Rahim and excused herself to have a moment with the girls.
Soon, it was 10:30. A woman entered the studio, followed closely by a meek young woman. The woman's heels clicked upon contact with the marble floors of the studio. She was in a floral blouse with puffy sleeves and pencil skirt. Her red heels reminded me exactly of Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada. Was she the Nadia Naama was talking about?
The photo shoot soon began and we were escorted to a large room where the photo shoot was taking place. The sophisticated woman who I assumed was Nadia chatted a bit with Naama and gave the girls a once-over. She barely smiled until she got to Desdemona. That must be good for Mona, right?
"Nadia" sat by Rahim and I, the meek woman following her around, watching the models in awe.
"Some of these girls look like toothpicks sliced into two," Rahim muttered when a really skinny girl came onto the stage as Naama was telling her how to pose. I giggled, probably a bit too loud since a few heads turned in my direction, including "Nadia".
Her eyes widened when she saw me. Did she know me? She however turned away, trying to pay attention to the shoot. But through my peripheral vision, I noticed she kept stealing glances at me.
"Is it just me or is this woman staring at you like a ghost?" Rahim whispered in my ear. I shrugged, looking at "Nadia". She immediately turned towards the shoot. Strange. I barely knew her name and I wasn't sure she knew me so why the stare?
After the photo shoot, Mona came up to us to give a hug. She seemed so elated, squealing with joy. We were still engaged in conversation when the meek woman who followed Nadia (I found out she was the actual Nadia from Mona) came to me.
"Hi, I'm Olive and Nadia would like to see you. She's waiting for you outside." She pointed outside where Nadia was looking around her surroundings as if they were actual filth. With reluctance, I followed Olive out of the building and came face-to-face with Nadia.
"Good day, Salma, right?" she asked. I nodded and she paused for a bit. Her face cracked into a smile and I frowned.
"Excuse me, do you know me?" I asked.
"More or less," she shrugged, snapping her fingers at Olive who handed me a card. It was a business card with Nadia's name, Bliss Magazine, her phone number and her email address.
"What should I do with this?"
"Call me anytime, and tell Janet that Nadia extends her greetings. Tell your friend she should meet me in my office on Monday." With that, she strutted to a white car and left as mysteriously as she had seemed throughout the entire photo shoot.
When I went inside with the card still in hand, I told Mona about the deal she had with Nadia. She squealed with delight and Rahim hugged her, congratulating her on the deal and I did same, but something didn't feel right. I just could not shake off the feeling Nadia knew me and I also knew her somehow. I gripped the card firmly, almost crushing it. When I realized I was destroying the laminated card, I slid it into my pocket.
I said goodbye to Naama and Desdemona bade farewell to her colleagues. The three of us left in Rahim's car to a restaurant he wanted to remain a secret.
Definitely not me at 2am trying to finish this chapter. My head hurts!!
-Conspiracy theories on Nadia? I wanna hear them.
-What do you think of teenagers like Desdemona going into modelling without properly finishing school?
-What do you think of Nadia and Olive?
-Comment here if you've ever watched or read The Devil Wears Prada.
Anyway, that's it guys. This is what I wanted to give to you for Christmas. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wish y'all a Merry Christmas and a new year ahead of us. Please stay safe and continue to enjoy my stories. Bye!