The Fashion of Love | Adult F/M Romance [COMPLETE]

ch. 21 - June

Sora had taken time to process the talk she'd had with Sam. She'd given herself many opportunities to smile stupidly over the kisses she had shared with Ravi that sill made her lips tingle on recollection. This was happening, somehow.

Over the course of several days Sora had progressed from disbelief that Ravi had actual, non-guilt-related feelings for her to uncertainty over the nature of those feelings. Was it lust? More? How much was more than lust? There was a potent attraction, to be sure, as well as a willingness to act on it. What did that really amount to?

She herself was reluctant to put a label on the emotion that prompted her to smile when she received a text from him. Does he feel like that when he hears from me? Casual affairs were someone else's privilege. Sora had her son, her company, and her reputation to consider.

Ravi had called twice in the interim. Once, he hadn't left a message and the second time was to invite her on a lunch date that a last-minute scheduling conflict forced her to cancel outright. She'd been stumped on how to apologize for that without their conversation becoming about...this. She had, therefore, performed her best trick to perfection; Sora had dodged.

Until today. She had to face what the future held lest she wait and find it held nothing.

Sora made her way to House of Misra right on schedule for lunch per their standing date.

"Hi, Nyna, I have an appointment with Ravi. Is it okay if I just wait inside?"

"Sure, he's in a meeting with Carter downstairs, but he should be out in a couple of minutes. Make yourself at home. Let me know if I can get you anything."

"Thanks."

Nyna left Sora in Ravi's office and shut the door behind her.

Sora took the time to survey her surroundings. It wasn't often she spent time in Ravi's office when the man was elsewhere. He tended to keep her absorbed when he was present, which meant she hadn't had much opportunity to notice what changes he'd made.

New pictures of Dhiren and Ravi in Rome had been added to the mix of family portraits featuring Jasmin and Hana, and one alone of a young Ravi embracing his late mother, Jivika Misra. He isn't giving any of them up. The Ravi who'd come back to L.A. wasn't the Ravi who'd left.

Caran d'Arche colored pencils littered his workspace in thirty bright hues. His trash bin overflowed with discarded professional-grade drawing paper. This is the studio of a master.Where confusion was channeled into art. Sora began to smile upon encountering a photograph of Dhiren and Tommy playing trucks on her floor.

Sora paused when she noticed a sewing mannequin standing beside Ravi's desk. It wore a dress in-progress, the skirt just about brushing the floor. The dress was breath-taking. All of Ravi's work tended to be works of art and everyone knew he had a particular gift for clothing the female form, yet there was something about this dress that called to Sora from across the room.What is it about this dress?

She carefully fingered the fabric. Cool to the touch. She skimmed the hand-detailing on the bodice where the black stitched embroidery underscored the supple richness of the silk.

"You like it?"

Sora jumped, spinning around to face Ravi. He was leaning against his office door and he looked as if he had been for some time. She hadn't heard him come in.

"It's gorgeous. I thought Misra had finished its couture shows for the season. What's it for?"

"Special delivery."

"Isn't the entire couture brand special delivery?"

"Yes and no. Some pieces are a little more special than others."