Page 47 of Kisses Behind the Spotlight

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Xain greeted us.

“Thank you. Happy Valentine’s Day,” Jameera replied.

I helped her into the truck, then we were on our way. Pulling up to the curb at the entrance, I scanned the area for Fabian, the photographer and videographer who traveled with us during my last tour. When I spotted Fabian walking toward us, I was thankful he could make the last-minute trip. I helped Jameera out of the truck, and she excitedly admired the museum’s exterior.

“Fabian, what are you doing here?” Jameera inquired, noticing the familiar face approaching us.

“Q flew me out to make sure you have the best pictures for your scrapbook,” Fabian informed her as Xain went to park the truck.

Jameera was holding tightly onto my hand as she looked up at me. “You know me so well,” she chuckled.

“They do not allow photography past the courtyard, but I already peeped a good spot for a few pictures before we enter. The exterior would be perfect for some full-body walking shots,” Fabian suggested.

Releasing the grip she had on my hand, Jameera fluffed out her hair, and I stood to the side, patiently allowing them to do their thing. Fabian snapped pictures and gave a few directions that Jameera followed before I was summoned for a few couples’ pictures. We finally entered the museum about twenty minutes later. Jameera and Fabian stopped for a second photoshoot inside the circular courtyard, where the YSL monogram logo was displayed against the massive stone wall.

We took a few photos together, then I was pushed aside for Jameera’s solo shots. A woman wearing a black blazer with her hair pulled into a sleek ponytail greeted me with a warm-silent smile. She stood a few feet away from me, watching Jameera and Fabian work until they were finally done.

Fabian’s camera dangled from his neck, and Jameera walked back over to me.

“Good evening, Jameera and Q. Welcome to the Musée Yves Saint Laurent Marrakech. We’re delighted to have you with us today.”

“Thank you. I’m so excited,” Jameera chirped.

“We were informed you are a celebrity stylist, so I’m sure you are aware of what our museum has to offer, but I’d still like to go over it,” she explained, leading us inside. “Today you’ll be able to explore the permanent exhibition dedicated to Yves Saint Laurent’s work. We have some of his most iconic designs, sketches, photographs, and pieces that highlight his creative process and influence on fashion.

“If you’d like, we can arrange a private guided tour, or you’re more than welcome to explore at your own pace. The exhibition leads into our temporary exhibition space, and at the end, there is a small theater where we have a special film curated for you two.”

“We will take the self-guided option, thank you.”

“Of course. Photographs are welcome here, but once you enter the exhibition halls, photography will not be permitted.”

“Got it,” Fabian nodded. “I’m actually going to head out. Jameera, it was a pleasure photographing you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” He waved at us.

“Thank you for making that trip, Fabian.”

“Anytime.”

“Shall we?” The woman nodded, waving towards the entrance.

Jameera snuggled up into my arm again as we entered the museum. The museum was something that Jameera had been talking about visiting since last year. She ogled the pieces, admiring every clothing item on display like it was a rare artifact. For women who loved fashion, I guess these were their holy grails.

My baby could go on about clothes and designers for hours, and our trip through the museum proved it. I didn’t mind listening. It soothed my nerves, which were a wreck at the thought of what I had planned.

We stopped in front of a vintage garment shielded by glass.

“She’s beautiful,” Jameera complimented. “He’s one of my favorite designers because of pieces like this. He challenged the way people thought women should dress.”

“How so?” I questioned, wrapping my arms around her from behind.

Jameera melted into my chest, her hand gripping my forearm. I looked at the blank garment. It looked vintage, but I couldn’t tell you anything besides that.

“He made women look powerful. Borrowing from menswear without making us lose our femininity in the process,” she noted.

Pulling me in another direction, I was happy to see Jameera in her element. We moved from display to display, the click of her heels echoing through the empty museum. Jameera dropped tidbits along the path. The way she confidently educated me along the way, a guide definitely wasn’t needed.

“What’s special about this one?” I inquired, pointing at another piece that looked important.

“My student is listening so intently,” Jameera complimented, rubbing her hand through my chin hair. “Look at the construction of the jacket. Do you see the way the fabric is shaped? The structure and the lines.”