Читать книгу Wish upon a Star - Fezi Cokile - Страница 5

1

After six hours of flying Lathoya could no longer concentrate on the book in her hands. She was exhausted and sleepy. She put her hand over her mouth as she yawned. The air hostess attending to business class took the expensive bottle of champagne out of the bucket of ice and expertly filled up Lathoya’s tall-stemmed crystal glass.

Lathoya smiled weakly at the hostess, allowed the foam to settle and then took a sip. The French champagne had been a gift from the designer Abramo Capazzo. It was a gesture to thank her for a very successful five-day fashion show. Though it had been exhausting, Lathoya had enjoyed herself tremendously.

When Kelly, her agent and best friend, told her that she was sending her off to the Milan fashion show – every model’s dream – she had been ecstatic. Lathoya knew going there would be a milestone in her modelling career of nine years. The key to open all the steel doors the modelling business had placed in front of her. If anyone tried to tell her that modelling was easy and all about glamour and travelling to exotic places, she would strangle that person.

Rejection came so easily in this industry. She remembered how agencies would only glance at her portfolio before rejecting her. “You’re too fat; you have to lose weight! You’re not pretty enough! Your cheekbones are all wrong!” Those were only some of the many cruel words Lathoya had had to endure. But the good thing about all of that was that it had made her stronger. It had given her more determination. Running away from home ten years ago had been no mistake.

Lathoya sighed.

She allowed herself to lean back in her comfortable reclining leather seat and down the glass of champagne. Its airy, bubbly taste tantalised her taste buds. Her eyes went over towards her right shoulder.

There was a man Lathoya had been secretly ogling. His bronze skin made his face glow, even his hands, which were typing away on his laptop keys. His hair was sleek and fashionably trimmed. Her first impression was that the handsome stranger was all about work. He had been glued to his laptop since shortly after take-off from Milan. Lathoya’s trained eye had noted that his tailored suit was without doubt Italian. He must be the CEO of a multibillion-rand company, she thought. He had an aura of charm and maturity.

“All work and no play makes you a dull boy.” The words escaped before she could stop herself.

The man’s eyes moved from his laptop to the woman mocking him. His mouth curved into a gentle smile.

His looks startled Lathoya. It was as if the world had come to a standstill. His lips were full and tempting, his jawline strong and square, and he had prominent cheekbones. His face was attractively clean, with no beard, exposing his engaging looks.

“I’m chasing a deadline,” he said, his voice like creamy cocoa as it flowed into Lathoya’s ears. “Putting together a magazine every month isn’t child’s play,” he added, leaning back into his seat. It seemed Lathoya was the distraction he needed.

“You’re an editor?” she asked, interested.

Maybe he was with a magazine she had done a photo shoot for. But she doubted that. She would certainly not have forgotten this ridiculously handsome hunk.

“Yep, I am. It’s challenging, but I enjoy challenges,” he replied, his dark eyes hot on her. “So what do you do?”

Enjoying his conversation, Lathoya told him that she was a model.

“Really?” he replied, his eyebrows curling up. “Although I’m not surprised. You’re a very beautiful woman.”

Even though she had heard that one many times before, she felt her cheeks flush. Maybe it was because of the way he had said it – so coolly, without expecting anything back from her. She shyly pushed back her curly weave from her face.

The man continued, “I think I’m surprised because I’ve never met a model as down to earth as you. What’s your name?” He seemed as interested in her as she was in him. His mouth kept curving into a smile and his eyes gleamed in fascination.

“Lathoya Mthathi.”

He closed his laptop, put it on the table in front of him, then got up and stepped over to her.

“Nice to meet you, Lathoya.”

He was tall and towered over her. His shoulders were broad and his masculine physique was visible even in his tailored suit. He offered her his hand. His handshake was firm and yet gentle, sending electricity through her veins. This indeed was a man who was sure of himself.

He introduced himself as Siso Masilela. He was thirty-five years old and of course a magazine editor. Siso joked that he was going to Google her, so Lathoya told him about her rise as a model. How she started in the industry after Red Cherry Modelling had given her a chance.

She was impressed by how he had conquered the magazine industry. They exchanged work stories and ended up clinking champagne glasses and toasting to new beginnings.

By the time the plane landed in Cape Town, they knew quite a lot about each other’s careers. The two made their way outside and to the terminal to retrieve their luggage. Lathoya’s consisted of two rather large suitcases, her handbag and many shopping bags. She had spoilt herself rotten by visiting the top designer boutiques in Milan.

“Here, let me help you,” Siso offered.

“Thanks, you’re such a gentleman,” said the struggling Lathoya, breathing a sigh of relief as he put her luggage on a trolley. “How come you don’t have as much clothes as me?” she asked, seeing that he had only his laptop and an overnight bag.

He smiled. Already, his smile seemed to be her favourite feature.

“Firstly, I’m not a supermodel. And secondly, I was in Italy for two nights only, for the launch of a new product range,” he explained.

When they were outside the terminal building, Lathoya spotted her best friend and agent waiting for her. She waved at Kelly and led Siso to her red sports car, parked on a yellow line as always. For a moment Kelly’s questioning eyes moved from the man she didn’t know to her friend.

Seeing this, Lathoya quickly bridged the silence. “Kelly, this is Siso Masilela. Siso, meet Kelly, the kind of friend every woman should have.”

Kelly looked flattered.

“How do you do?” said Siso and took her hand.

“Nice to meet you,” replied Kelly. She was in her forties, and in Lathoya’s opinion she was the best agent in the cut-throat modelling industry. Kelly knew what it took to get to the top and stay there: a lot of hard work, loads of determination and also a bit of luck.

“I have to go back inside,” Siso announced. “I’m meeting someone in the lounge. It was wonderful to meet you both.” He bade them goodbye and Lathoya watched him walking away. His bag over his shoulder, he strode confidently until he disappeared into the crowd leaving the building.

“Who the heck’s that?” Kelly asked in a dramatic whisper, her face suddenly glowing. That always happened when she was marvelling at something . . . especially when it involved Lathoya’s life.

“I told you, his name is Siso Masilela,” replied Lathoya while trying to keep a straight face. She knew exactly where her friend was going.

They opened the boot of the car to put in the luggage.

“That’s only the beginning. Who is he? Is he a model too?” asked Kelly, helping with the bags.

“Fortunately not.” If Siso had been a model, no matter how attractive he was, it would have been a huge turn-off to Lathoya. On her nine-year journey as a model she had had her share of the frustration of dating a colleague. They sure knew how to break a girl’s heart with their arrogance and oversized egos!

“He’s a magazine editor,” Lathoya explained as she closed the boot and the two friends got into the car.

“Well, he’s quite a catch!” said Kelly, stating the obvious. “What magazine does he head?”

Lathoya couldn’t believe it, but she had not asked Siso that question. How could she have been so foolish? Probably because she was so taken with his charm and looks. A vivid image of him appeared in her mind’s eye, haunting her.

“Aren’t you going to answer me?” asked Kelly moments later when the car was in motion, weaving its way through the traffic.

Lathoya snapped Siso’s image out of her head and returned to the present. “Ironically, I never asked him.” She told herself that it didn’t actually matter. It wasn’t as if the lust she had felt for him was love . . . Or was it? How do you separate the two? It was a simple attraction, even though it felt more powerful than anything she had ever encountered before. But she was sure this fascination would blow over in the next few hours.

Lathoya didn’t care much for relationships. Her choice of career had forced her to take this attitude. Being a model, travelling and doing photo shoots, she hardly had time to go on a date. At least, that was her justification for not going out. However, Kelly kept pointing out that she needed more balance in her life. She had been so preoccupied with making it big in the modelling business that she had neglected the other part of her life. But for now Lathoya was satisfied with her choice. She had graced the catwalks of New York, Paris and now Milan.

“I want to hear all about Milan,” said Kelly.

“Oh, it’s a wonderful city! So exciting and enchanting, and so rich in architecture. Truly the world’s fashion and design capital,” replied Lathoya, dreamily reliving her memories of Milan.

They approached Cape Town’s city bowl and a magnificent apartment block with spectacular ocean views. The building was also an amazing piece of architecture, contemporary and elegant. They drove into the large basement, where Kelly parked her car.

“Now I seriously need a warm bubble bath,” said Lathoya, taking her luggage out of the boot.

“Let me help you with that. You must be worn out after the flight.”

The friends dragged the luggage into the lift before the doors closed behind them.

“I love your dress,” said Kelly. “I’ve always said blue was your best colour.” Lathoya was wearing a simple, knee-revealing dress. She had of course bought it at one of those elegant boutiques in Milan, in the Victor Emmanuel II Gallery shopping mall. The velvet boots she was wearing also came from there.

“I got you something as well, like I promised,” Lathoya said.

“Really? You shouldn’t have!” answered Kelly excitedly. “So what is it?”

“I’ll show you once we’re in my apartment.”

The doors of the lift opened at the top floor. They stepped into the corridor. Lathoya’s luxury New York-style apartment was at the far end of it.

“Anything happened while I was away?” Lathoya asked, unlocking the door and then pushing it open.

“Nothing much except that you missed five episodes of Desperate Housewives,” Kelly responded, coming inside with the luggage.

“I’ll have to watch the reruns then.”

The moment Lathoya entered her sanctuary, the familiar citrus scent she loved so much filled her nose. “Thank God, I’m home at last,” she sighed. “Oh, I’ve missed this place,” she said, leaving the luggage just there and moving through her living room to the balcony.

The view was spectacular.

In front of her was the ocean and to the right one of the wonders of the world was spread out in front of her: Table Mountain. It was as massive as ever. A huge chunk of land and wonderment. She had really missed standing here, admiring the ocean and the mountain. And also the cars passing by down in the street, hooting and competing with impatient taxi drivers to get to their destination. The Cape Town sunshine brushed Lathoya’s face. She closed her eyes, feeling its gentle warmth.

“You haven’t told me anything about Milan,” said Kelly, stepping out onto the balcony. She was carrying two cans of diet soda, straight from the fridge.

“It was like I said, magical. Oh, the food: panettone and risotto, all their famous dishes. Simply delicious. Let me show you what I got you.”

Kelly followed Lathoya to the living room and sank into the white leather couch. Lathoya reached for the shopping bags, all with gleaming brand names on them. She took out a long, narrow red box and opened its lid.

“For you,” she said as she took out a red chiffon dress and gave it to her friend.

“It’s beautiful!” gasped Kelly.

“That’s not all. I also got you these.” Lathoya reached for another box and presented her friend with Cinderella-inspired strapless stilettos.

“Oh, wow!” exclaimed Kelly. “A girl can never have enough shoes, that’s for sure.” They laughed and hugged.

Then Lathoya said, “I still need that bath, though.”

“All right, go on. I’ll make us lunch meanwhile.”

Lathoya went up the spiral staircase to her bedroom and filled her bathtub with water. Her bedroom was spacious, even though it contained her bathtub, standing on four claws in the centre of the room, away from the bed. The bed had a huge headboard that her interior designer had specially had made. Huge pillows along with snowy white sheets and covers graced her bed.

Once the tub was ready and full of foam, Lathoya pulled her blue dress over her head, exposing her tall, slender frame. Her bra and panties also landed on the floor. She sank into the water. It felt so warm and revitalising. Inhaling the smell of the sandalwood soap deeply and closing her eyes, she allowed her tensed muscles to relax.

Lathoya was surprised when her mind immediately went to Siso Masilela. Who was this man, besides the fact that he was the editor of some magazine? His eyes had been like fire that ignited her. She longed to see him again. To see his mouth curve into that hypnotising smile. Where did he live? She couldn’t believe she was wondering about these things. She’d only spent a couple of hours with this man, and now she wanted to know everything about his life. He probably had a girlfriend – or for all she knew, he was married.

She told herself to stop wasting time thinking about a man who probably wasn’t even sparing her a thought and concentrate on more important things. Like calling Amanda, her publicist, and letting her know she was back.

Kelly came upstairs just as Lathoya was putting on fresh clothes. “Thanks so much,” she said, watching her friend put down her luggage.

“You’d swear I was your maid, not your agent,” Kelly joked. “Now hurry up and let’s go downstairs and eat lunch.”

Lathoya agreed, slipped on a white top and jumped into a pair of tight-fitting jeans. They went down to the kitchen, where Kelly’s sandwiches were ready and waiting.

“I missed you, my friend,” said Kelly.

“I really missed you too,” replied Lathoya. “How are Sipho and the twins?”

Sipho was Kelly’s husband. The twins were a five-year-old boy and girl. That was something Lathoya was starting to miss in her life: family, a husband and children. At the age of twenty-eight, with a healthy bank balance and a fulfilling career, she ought to think about settling down. But where was Mr Right? Her mind immediately went to Siso again. No, not him! she reprimanded herself. That man wasn’t meant for her. Would she ever find such a man?

“Oh, the three of them are fine. And the twins missed their aunt.”

Lathoya wasn’t their real aunt, but she adored them as much as they loved her. So they called her “Aunt”.

“You tell them that I’m back and I have presents for them,” said Lathoya. She had got the kids some toys in Italy. She always bought them something when she went away.

“Oh, they’ll be delighted. So tomorrow, lunch at my house?” Kelly suggested, finishing her sandwich. Lathoya agreed and they started talking about Milan again.

* * *

Lathoya’s image had been hovering in Siso’s mind since the moment they parted ways at the airport. His meeting with his publisher had ended and it was evening by the time he turned the key in his front door. He was worn out after the flight.

Sometimes Siso wondered why he had chosen magazine publishing as his career, besides the fact that he was passionate about it. Having a demanding job like being editor of a magazine really sucked the fun out of life. He couldn’t help but smile as he stepped onto the marbled floor of his big, empty house. He was thinking of what she had said to him, “All work and no play makes you a dull boy.” In his case those words were actually true.

For Siso, life was all work. He hardly had a chance to make time for himself. Growing up in a poverty-stricken rural area and having to herd cows after school, he had always known that a better future was waiting for him. So he studied hard and got a scholarship to do journalism at Rhodes University. After completing his degree, his determination to succeed helped him become a magazine editor at the age of thirty-five. The publication he was in charge of was published in over thirty-nine countries around the world. He was managing the bulky South African version and doing extremely well for himself.

But Siso was getting worried. Time was ticking by and he had not yet found the right woman. He thought again of Lathoya, the gorgeous model he had met that morning on the plane. Her skin glowed flawlessly and her beauty had blinded him the moment he set eyes on her. She had been so approachable and her attitude so carefree; it was as if a breeze of fresh air had wafted along. He would never have guessed that she was a model if she hadn’t told him.

He proceeded across the shiny marbled floor of the hallway in his black leather shoes, heading straight for the kitchen. He took out a ready-made meal from the freezer and put it in the microwave oven. While waiting for the food, he opened his laptop on the built-in table, stylishly made of shiny steel to fit in with the metallic look of the kitchen. Siso couldn’t resist going to the search engine Google and typing in the words South African model, Lathoya.

Results leading to different sites came back. He read her profile from one of these sites. She had started modelling at the age of nineteen and gone on to win a huge cosmetics contract worth a million rand. That was when her career really took off and why she ended up gracing the covers of many South African magazines, more than any other model in the country’s history.

Siso went on to explore the sensual pictures of Lathoya. Her breasts, so ripe and full in those swimsuits she wore. Her body, so silky and slim: a temple to be worshipped. It had been quite some time since he had paid this much attention to a woman. He couldn’t recall when last someone had awoken such intense desire in him.

When the microwave announced that his food was ready, Siso moved from his laptop and went to take it out. The aroma of the steamy meal caused his stomach to rumble. When he went back to his laptop and to Lathoya’s pictures, it hit him that his house needed a woman. And of course, that made him think even more about the woman on his screen.

There had to be a reason why he’d met Lathoya. And the reason that came to his mind was that this supermodel should become his wife. Perhaps his ancestors were at last offering him the right woman. He sat down on a tall metallic stool and got himself some cutlery. This time he wanted more than just a relationship. He wanted marriage. Anyway, his mother and father had been nagging him about taking a wife for a long time now.

“Siso, I want abazukulwana. When are you going to give them to me?” his mother would keep on asking whenever he visited. Yes, his parents wanted grandchildren and he wanted a wife.

Once he had finished eating and finally worked through the sample of the next issue, Siso went to his bedroom, where his empty bed awaited him. He cursed under his breath, swearing that the sweet, beautiful Lathoya would soon find herself under those sheets. And he knew exactly how to make that happen!