He tightened his grip on her waist, the twitch of man too aware of what he wanted and couldn't have in the moment. "That's a dangerous offer to make."
"I guess you could say I've developed a taste for that lately. I wonder how that happened." She bit her lip on a smirk that came unbidden. Ravi wasn't the safe choice, he wasn't the love that came without risk; he was simply the right one.
His gaze flittered over her in that hungry way that made heat pool in the pit of her stomach. Every inch of her that he craved, craved him. How had she come this far without being consumed by this? She didn't think she could go another day.
Just Ravi looked as though he might ravage her where they stood, Imogen and Mykos coughed conspicuously from the sidelines. Sora hadn't realized they were in the room. Imogen's cough came out more like bow chicka bow bow in a rough undertone than a real cough. Mykos's sounded more like poorly concealed church giggle.
The mood was dead; if only somebody would tell her lungs, her dizzy heart. Ravi disappointment was in the twist of their hands together, the soft squeeze.
Ravi's cellphone vibrated between them.
"Hold that thought," he sighed, only to sigh again on checking the display. "I gotta pick Dhiren up from soccer practice and drop him off at Hana's."
Just the reminder Sora had hoped to avoid. Not Dhiren, but Hana, who tended to herald difficulty by the slightest mention of her name.
"Don't look like that. I'm gonna need something to look forward to afterward. Don't forget where we left off."
Sora forwent his lips to kiss the prominent tendon in his neck, following it to where it met clavicle and shoulder. His breath left him in a rush only when she stopped.
"I'll save the rest for later."
"You're killing me." He pressed closer, close enough that clothes made little difference to the spectacle they were making.
"Don't you have someplace to go?" she asked, even as she scraped her nailed down the nape of his neck.
He growled. "That kid..."
"Parenthood is as sweet as it is painful," she opined wryly, equanimity restored.
"Loving you isn't." Ravi gave her a peck on the mouth, then pulled back.
She lamented the loss at once, sulky as a teenager far less blessed. "Don't be gone long."
He blew across the shell of her ear. "I couldn't stand it," he murmured and slipped away.
Imogen winked at Sora from across the room and Sora smoothed her wrinkled attire, pretending all the while she wasn't turning bright red at the scrutiny she was getting from the Misra employees in the showroom. Momentary lapses she could deal with; it was the moments after that still gave her trouble.
She jumped, scared witless when Ravi popped back into the showroom.
"Do me a favor?"
"Name it?"
"Help me move into my new beach house."
This was the first Sora was hearing of any beach house.
"Sure."
"I'll text you the address."
"Okay, see you then."
He winked and disappeared again.
Imogen swept over, beaming at Sora's dopey, mystified grin. What can I say? It's the Ravi Misra effect.
"It's all full steam ahead on the good ship Savi, I see."
"...Savi?"
"Your smush name. Sora plus Ravi equals Savi."
"It's not exactly Brangelina."
Imogen shrugged, unconcerned. "They can't all be winners. Now, tell me everything. Is he sweet to you? Does he spoil you rotten? I bet he does, I've seen how he can't keep his hands off you. I think we've all seen how he can't keep his hands off you." She fanned herself melodramatically.
Sora huffed, somewhat self-conscious and, all right, overjoyed. "He's not that bad."
"Bad, what's bad about a hot, fashionable guy who drops everything the second he catches a whiff of your perfume? He designed an entire fashion line in your image, Aunt S, you've got him hooked and he's happy about it! You should be shouting for joy, so why aren't you?" Imogen was once again demonstrating spectacular insight. Sora wondered if there was something in the water.
"I am, Imogen,...inside. Ravi loves me, I love him. You know me, I'm never content to celebrate when I can worry."
Imogen propped herself up against the nearest potted plant.
"That totally makes sense, just don't let your fear of the end sneaking up behind you keep you from having the time of your life with the person who's choosing to share their life with you."
"You're the third Himura to give me love advice."
"We're kind of great at giving advice, I know."
Sora gave her a look. "Don't let your uncle hear you say that or he'll never stop talking my ear off about Ravi."
Imogen scrunched up her nose in sympathy. "You got me there. My lips are sealed—so long as you tell me everything."
"As if you couldn't find out on your own."
Imogen hooked her arm through Sora's and led her out of the showroom. "The moms taught me the importance of cultivating my own sources at an early age. I've never forgotten that." Before Tracy had come into her 50% share of HMG, she'd been an investigative reporter and that was where she'd met her wife Justine. Imogen had been the frosting on the cake of her happy life, and happy they remained.
"Speaking of your mom, did you get to see her? She told me she was stopping by this morning."
"I did! I love having her around. The only downside of living in California is having her and mom two on the other side of the country. I want all my family close to me where I can see them and make sure they're safe and taking care of themselves. You know how they get when they're working."
"You're nesting."
Imogen pulled a face. "Ugh, there has to be better word for that. Nests are all dirty with twigs and uck!"
"Weird smells getting to you?" Sora winced in sympathy.
"Weird everything gets to me lately. Just thinking about nature makes me all blech!" The younger woman shuddered as if trees had offended her personally.
Sora was reminded of her own debilitating bouts of nausea during her pregnancy; everything artificially-flavored and –scented had become the enemy. Tommy didn't take the easy route into the world.
"How're things going with the baby?"
"Everything's amazing. I've had a little morning sickness; not much, just enough to remind me that I'm not alone in here." She patted her slightly curved stomach. "I'm craving everything from sour cream & onion chips to duck a l'orange. Narsi's been a saint about keeping me fed and happy."
"Speaking of men who are crazy in love..."
Imogen sighed a contented sigh. "I'm pretty crazy about him, too." Her mood dimmed a bit as she continued. "But sometimes, when I think about all the whacked out stunts I pulled just to get him to notice me, I wonder if it'll all crumble around me, you know? My dreams came true; what if it's not forever?"
Sora hugged her niece to her side. "A wise woman told me that you can't let your fear of the end prevent you from enjoying the beginning. The end is some other day. Today is sunny with a chance of even more sun. Hold on to that."
"I try." Imogen wagged her head to swing her auburn curls out of her face. "I get so moody these days. I knows it's the hormones; doesn't stop them from getting the best of me."
"Everybody understands, probably nobody more than me."
"Oh! I forgot about..."
"I won't sugarcoat it, the post-natal depression was god awful; I'm not sure there's anything as horrifying as your body and mind waging war against you. It can change you forever. That's the bad news." Sora rubbed Imogen's hand between hers. "The good news is that we all know what to look for now. If something goes wrong, you'll get help immediately and you will never have to worry about suffering like I did. I wouldn't let that happen."
Imogen waved a hand in front of her eyes. "Oh, crap, I'm tearing up again. I think my mascara's gonna run." She swore and Sora pulled her into an even tighter hug.
"You're going to be just fine."
Imogen gave up fanning her face to sigh into Sora's shoulder. "You don't know how big a relief that is to hear."
"Then, my next words are sure to be a letdown."
She felt her niece brace herself. "What is it?"
"How do you feel about gelato?"
"About like I feel about my baby: I'm in love with it and now that you've mentioned it, I need it."
"Ravi's favorite café just happens to make the sweetest, the creamiest gelato you will ever eat and it's twenty minutes away tops."
"You can't just say that and not deliver! What are we waiting for? The expectant mother would like a gallon, let's go!"
"We can go anytime."
"I don't think you understand the urgency of my baby. She has fallen in love at first imagination with the word 'gelato.' My taste buds are swimming. Aunt Sora, this is a matter of national importance."
"I'll call my driver back."
"Forget your driver, we can take my car."
What followed was a gab session Sora sorely needed. Imogen knew everything there was to know about who was sleeping with whom, where and when, and whilst married to whom else. Sora was more informed by the time she left La Bocca than she had been after a morning of reading the Washington Post. Never doubt that a few dedicated fashion designers can change the world. They probably already have.