The group photo shoot for the most important style influencers in Toronto was being held in the Distillery District, a cute little shopping area downtown with cobblestone streets, old-timey brick buildings, and cafés with patios spilling out onto the sidewalks. It was a popular place for fashion spreads, if a little predictable. Gia and I took an Uber downtown to the meeting place and easily found the group. It wasn’t hard—twenty people wearing clothes that to the uninformed would look like regular upper-teen, lower-twenties casual wear, but we recognized them as some of the hottest brands right now. Matteo spotted us immediately and came over.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to talk to him long.
“Tahira! Look at you, gorgeous!” Nilusha said, hobbling toward me while managing cobblestones and a cane with no problem. Probably thanks to her weeks in Paris. She kissed both my cheeks and stood back, looking at me while holding one of my hands. “Did you make that shirt? Iadoreit.”
I grinned. The sweatshirt had turned out so cool. I’d cropped it really short (I was wearing it with a tight cami underneath) and used bright-green grosgrain ribbon for the epaulets on the shoulders. “Of course I did.”
She shook her head. “To think, I could have had all that talent working for me this summer. Instead, all I have is a designer walking cane.”
“Your cane is designer?”
She shrugged. “I’m a designer, and I designed it.”
I laughed. I introduced her to Matteo and Gia, who both complimented her outfit and her fashion line right away. To be fair, Nilusha was absolutely stunning in a tight black scoop-neck top paired with loose black trousers. She’d cut her hair. It was now above her shoulders with a cute flip out at the bottom, and she was wearing a black beret.
“I like that hat,” I said.
“I’m making berets for the fall. Seriously, my whole line will be Paris inspired next season. Come, let me introduce you to Dasha Payne.”
“Oh, I already know her,” Matteo said as he followed me anyway. Gia squealed with glee, and I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.
Dasha Payne was a tall white woman with wavy brown hair, wearing a bright floral oversize blazer and matching ankle-length pants. After Nilusha introduced us, Dasha told us how thrilled she was that we were here. She was gorgeous, of course, and friendly enough. I could see why she was the hottest thing right now. She had the attention span of Strawberry the bunny, though.
“Tahira! I’m so excited to hang out with you tomorrow—I need you to be my tour guide.” She turned to the person standing behind her. “We have to make sure we get to that haberdashery Amber mentioned.” She turned back at me. “I’ve been stalking your Insta. I’m going to need you to tell me where all that street art is. And that sunflower field. Is that near where we’re shopping?”
I shook my head. “No. The sunflowers are a few hours away. I’ve spent the summer in a small town near a bunch of flower farms.”
Her face brightened. “Seriously? Oh, that reminds me.” She called out to another person behind her. “Did you call the aquarium to see ifwe can use it after closing?” Then she was back to me. “Florals are hot next season, but, like, you know, done modern. Urban.”
“Tahira doesn’t use natural stuff in her designs,” Matteo said. “Her aesthetic is more industrial, you know?”
Dasha nodded. “Fish are happening, too. Flowers and fish. But not, like, to eat. I do ketogenic but with intermittent fasting. I have no idea what I’ll eat tomorrow. Do they have keto in Canada? Oh, there’s Savannah!”
Dasha wandered away without another word. She was actually far from the flightiest person I’d met in fashion.
But interesting that she’d noticed the sunflower pictures. Now that Rowan and I were...whatever, should I have taken those pictures down from my Insta? I mean, the whole flower thingwasagainst my aesthetic, and I needed to keep my design sensibilities consistent. Plus, at this point there were a few too many ex-boyfriends on my feed.
And I didn’t love being reminded of that perfect day every time I looked at my page.
I stayed true to my promise to Leanne last night and didn’t text Rowan. Part of me expected him to contact me—but he didn’t. Nothing this morning, either.
“What do you think, Tahira?” Nilusha asked.
Jolted out of my thoughts, I turned to her. What were they talking about?
“Wow, you were out of it there.” Nilusha smiled. “We were trying to figure out what Dasha meant when she said fish are happening. Like, aquatic prints? Or, like, fish scales? I’ve never heard of this trend. Have you seen any fish stuff?”
I shook my head. I needed to get a grip. This was important. I needed to stay focused right now, or the Plan would come apart.
The shoot was fine, I guess. I managed to stay mostly out of my head. It was great to get a picture with Nilusha. Less great that Dasha insisted on a shot of Matteo and me alone to use for our interview for her site tomorrow. Also, it was annoying to have to listen to Gia go on about how she wished someone had told her we’d be on cobblestones because her shoes were all wrong.
Both Matteo and Gia were kind of sucking up to Dasha. Gia told her three times how great theDashStylesite was, and Matteo wouldn’t shut up about how stoked he was to hang with her tomorrow. He even told her to let him know if there was anything special she wanted him to procure or make happen, because he knew all the right people in this city.
I understood why they were sucking up—I mean, we were all here because Dasha was so influential. But they seemed to be so extreme about it. Was that what I seemed like with people I looked up to? I remembered Rowan calling me pouty and Thirst Trap when we met. And, of course, Samaya’s comment about me only having time for models and influencers. Matteo’s and Gia’s behavior shouldn’t have bothered me so much, but it did.
The photo shoot was as long and tedious as these things usually were. By the time we were done, it was past one and I was irritable and tired. The stunning day in Toronto surrounded by so many cool people (Matteo excluded) should have been a dream, but it wasn’t.
After the shoot, we were all treated to a buffet on the patio of this Mexican restaurant in the middle of the Distillery District. It was really swanky—low tables with brightly colored bench seats and enormous urns filled with hibiscus flowers. I took a picture with my phone and almost sent it to Rowan because he’d love the hibiscus, but I didn’t.
