Luminous Gems

Chapter 1

Johannesburg’s spring late afternoon sun streamed through the windows of Urban Oasis, a restaurant famous for its seasonal menus inspired by local ingredients and even more famous clientele. Coretta swept into the room, her strappy heels clicking against the floor. Heads turned, but she didn’t notice—or pretended not to.

“Late as usual,” Mandisa said with a smirk, adjusting her glasses. She sat upright, her blouse crisp, as though she had a meeting immediately after brunch.

Coretta placed her oversized sunglasses on the table and kissed Mandisa on the cheek. “Fashionably late, huns. There’s a difference.”

“Fashionably insufferable,” Mandisa shot back, but the corners of her mouth betrayed a smile.

Faheema arrived next, her green scarf fluttering in the breeze. “I don’t know why you two insist on sitting indoors when the patio has the best light,” she said, sliding into the booth.

“Because Coretta needs a grand entrance,” Mandisa quipped.

“And Mandisa hates direct sunlight,” Coretta added with a grin.

The trio dissolved into laughter, drawing amused glances from other diners.

The warm hum of conversation filled the air as Mandisa, Faheema, and Coretta settled into their usual corner booth at a cozy restaurant tucked away in Rosebank. The soft glow of fairy lights strung across the ceiling cast a comforting ambiance, making it the perfect escape from their demanding lives. The waitress brought over their drinks—Mandisa’s sparkling water with lime, Faheema’s chai latte, and Coretta’s signature glass of sauvignon blanc.

“You won’t believe the drama at work this week,” Coretta began, her tone exaggeratedly theatrical as she leaned back in the plush booth.

Mandisa smirked, sipping her water. “Let me guess: Castellano?”

Coretta waved her hand dismissively. “Obviously. He’s decided I’m the resident scapegoat. Every mistake on the team? Somehow my fault. Every win? Somehow his genius idea.”

Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but Mandisa noticed the way Coretta’s jaw tightened as she spoke. Despite her glittering exterior, it was clear the pressures of the fashion world were gnawing at her.

“Typical Castellano,” Faheema said, shaking her head. “You’d think someone in his position would know how to recognize real talent.”

Coretta brightened at the compliment, flashing a smile. “Thank you! Exactly. I’m giving him magic, and he’s too busy trying to tame it. Anyway, enough about me.” She gestured dramatically at Faheema. “Your turn. Spill.”

Faheema laughed softly, setting her chai latte down. “Oh, nothing as glamorous as your life. Just the usual juggling act. I’ve got a new client—some high-net-worth nightmare who thinks every second of my day belongs to him. And, of course, my parents are applying their subtle pressure about grandchildren again.”

Mandisa and Coretta groaned in unison.

“What did they say this time?” Mandisa asked.

“Oh, the usual,” Faheema replied, rolling her eyes. “‘You’re not getting any younger.’ ‘We’d like to see some little ones before we’re gone.’ And my personal favorite: ‘You’ve had ten years to focus on your career.’”

Coretta leaned in, grinning mischievously. “Tell them you’re launching a financial literacy program for babies and need a few more years of research.”

Faheema laughed, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“And what about Ibrahim? Is he feeling the pressure too?” Mandisa asked carefully.