Talk Of The Town ✔️

10

Anya stood by the director, fanning her face with a file she grabbed nearby. He instructed on brighter lighting, ordering the background models to practice their catwalk and poses one final time. She sighed. Intense and incandescent lights will be her death for a trench coat company.

"Anya, are you ready," the director shouted, busting her sensitive eardrum.

She gulped the cold latte Taylor brought at once. With a pained smile, she handed her the empty cup and wore the peanut brown trench coat again. Heads down, she stood on her mark on the illuminated white stage.

"Music and ACTION"

Lifting her head, Anya walked with grace and posed. Staring straight into the camera for five seconds, she twirled, ensuring her straightened hair flipped as confidently as possible.

After an 'eternity,' the music stopped, and the light weakened. Like the other models, she took off the trench coat right away. Stepping down the stage, she handed it to one of the ladies for ventilation. Thankfully, this is the last shot for today. She will return tomorrow to shoot for three more trench coats in other brown shades.

"Don't be long," Taylor ordered.

"It's fine. I don't have anything else planned for later."

With a teasing smile, she added, "Still, look your best even if you're exhausted."

Anya rushed into the fitting room, excusing herself to a hurrying girl and grabbed her clothes. After changing, she tied her hair in a messy bun, making her appear older and professional. For a moment, the exhausted model considered washing her face. Her assistant would throw a fit if she walked out bare-faced. She decided to fix her lipstick instead.

"See you tomorrow, girls," someone shouted as she left.

Anya dropped her stuff haphazardly in her bag and bade farewell to the other girls. To her surprise, Noah waited on the ground floor of the building.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"Taylor didn't tell you?"

"Surprise," Taylor exclaimed. "You are going with him to meet Margaret, the owner of Waffle and Crepe."

"The woman we met at the party?"

Noah responded, "Yes, she contacted me and asked to bring you as well."

"You could have told me, Taylor."

"It wouldn't be a surprise then. Off you go. Noah will drop you home. He knows where you live now, bye-bye."

Sighing, Anya followed Noah toward the navy-blue Mercedes, the one Sean drove to her house three nights ago. These boys sure loved to drive different cars, or it could be another advertising technique of his.

The Waffle and Crepe bakery was a five-minute drive or fifteen-minute walk, depending on how fast you were walking near Madame Tussauds London. It's located on the ground floor in a row of elegant brick buildings, sandwiched between a café and an art supply shop.

A saccharine and caffeine warmth engulfed her nose when she stepped inside. A soft rendition of movie instrumentals played over the low murmurs of conversation coming from the two couples. The other three single-seated customers dug into their strawberry waffles or chocolate crepes.

The walls of this bakery/café were soft pink bricks matching the cushions over the chairs. Small orange and white pumpkins adorned the front glassed window. Anya scanned the curved glass display of different cupcakes and tempting chocolate treats. Her stomach rumbled.