The car wedged out of the traffic in Durban city. Yasteer pulled up the black BMW X5 in the parking lot of Jasmine Barbershop on Victoria Street.
Yasteer and Rosie darted from the vehicle into the shop and Rosie commanded the barber to shape up Yasteer’s afro into textured hair, but to the low fade adaptation, a late 1980s style. Once the barber was done, the fade and the beard, nicely trimmed, had exposed his good looks.
As they returned to the car, Rosie kept looking at him with a smile.
“What?” he asked, but Rosie didn’t respond. He repeated himself as Rosie opened the back door.
“You look nice,” she finally admitted, getting inside the car and closing the door.
“I feel violated.”
The next stop was the Italian shop. A white man in his late forties welcomed them politely.
“How can I be of service?” he asked, while Rosie’s head whipped around to see the many different suits in the shop.
“I’m looking for a suit for this gentleman,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Yasteer, who stood behind her.
“What type of suit are you looking for, sir?” The white man turned to him.
“Uhmm, what are the options?” Yasteer shrugged nonchalantly.
“Well, we have bespoke, made to measure, and ready to wear suits. Of course, the more customised an suit is, the longer it takes to prepare.”
“We will take the last one, since we need the suit right away,” said Rosie, and the man bowed and ushered Yasteer into the fitting room.
When Yasteer came out her face broke into a stunned smile. The black suit, white shirt, black tie and trousers fitted perfectly onto his fine body. He looked exactly as she had imagined.
“Perfect! I would like to order another one for the night. And please include a waistcoat and a black shirt. Please make five each of the two shirts.”
The man nodded with a grin and disappeared to the storeroom.
“Now there’s only one more thing to add to your new look,” she said, “a wristwatch!”
A gold-diamond wristwatch would make Yasteer look like a wealthy, perfect gentleman. He was grateful to Rosie for the look and the opportunity.
“One condition though,” said Rosie, smiling, “we must become friends!”
In the car, Yasteer asked where to next.
“Let’s do something adventurous,” Rosie said, “like sky diving or bungee jumping.”
“Urm, I don’t think that’d be appropriate.” He hesitated. “My job is to keep you safe, not the opposite.”
“Oh, come on. You agreed to be friends now.”
“I did not agree to anything.”
“Fine. Let’s go and see some animals,” she suggested.
Tell us: Do you foresee anything romantic between Rosie and Yasteer?