He still looked tense, and, feeling bold, she touched his cheek, turning his face toward hers. ‘It’s going to be brilliant,’ she said.
He let go of the table, flexing his hands. The stress seemed to leave him then, and he gave her a soft smile, eyes tender. ‘You’re brilliant, Sonya.’ The way he said her name made her shiver. ‘You have such a way of making me feel…’ He trailed off, at a loss of words. ‘If I could just hold on to that feeling—it is its own kind of magic.’
Sonya felt warm all over as Azam tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. While she had been working, tendrils of hair had come loose from the ribbon, falling in front of her face.
The strand bounced back to where it had been hanging. She laughed, unsure what to say. ‘My hair was never this curly,’ she said, touching the ends.
He gently tugged a curl and it bounced. ‘I like it,’ he said, eyes lidded.
Then, he was just looking at her, his gaze intense, and nerves skittered through her. She nibbled her lower lip. ‘What?’ she asked.
‘I’m…nervous.’ He admitted it like a confession, his ears tinged pink.
‘That’s expected, it’s a big day,’ she reassured. ‘Just look at me.’
‘I’m afraid that’ll only make matters worse,’ he replied, voice low.
Before she could ask what that meant, Dania came bounding in, and they both turned their attention to her.
‘I’m ready!’ she said, throwing her arms up. She wore a baby-blue dress, and her hair was in two braids, tied with yellow ribbons. Kiri entered after her, bringing the tea, and Sonya and Azam went to help with the rest of the food, setting it up on the table.
Everything was ready; everything was perfect. The shop looked brand new, but still how Sonya imagined it once used to. They all stood by the doorway, looking in at their hard work. New dresses hung from hangers and adorned the three dressmaker’s mannequins in the room, and the portfolio of sketches was open on the table. There was a big banner with the words ‘GRAND REOPENING’ hanging across the wall. The shop would still be known as Bunto’s; Azam had wanted to honor his mother.
‘Your folks would have been awfully proud,’ Kiri said, squeezing Azam’s side.
Tears sprang into his eyes, but he smiled.
‘Thank you for saying that, Kiri,’ he said.
People began arriving slowly. Sonya recognized some of them from handing out the fliers and from the market, but many were new faces. Soon, the party was in full swing.
The space quickly became overcrowded and easy chatter filled the shop as people reached for tea and scones and looked at the dresses and sketches, but everyone seemed to be having a grand time, talking and laughing.
‘This is my model,’ Azam said, his hand on Sonya’s lower back as he walked her around the room. ‘My muse, Sonya.’
She was wearing one of his designs, which she was happy to show off, letting people admire Azam’s handwork. But then she realized how much attention she was getting. Many people were staring.
She was used to people staring, to being the center of attention at the few parties she had attended, but she never liked it, not then and not now. As a lady asked Azam for details regarding an order she wanted to place for her anniversary, Sonya slipped away to grab a glass of lemonade.
She drank the lemonade in the corner, catching her breath.
‘Can I refill that for you?’ someone asked. Sonya looked up to find a young man, probably a few years older than she was, gesturing to her empty glass.
‘Oh, thank you,’ Sonya replied, handing it to him. He had straight blond hair and bright blue eyes; she tried to recall if she had met him before, but his face didn’t seem familiar.
The young man returned with her glass full of lemonade and another one for himself.
‘For you.’ He handed it to her, and she took a long sip. ‘I’m Marcus, by the way.’ He gave her a winning smile.
‘Sonya,’ she replied, smiling back.
‘Yes, I heard,’ he said. ‘You’re Azam’s muse. Azam couldn’t have picked a more perfect model; I’m sure everything looks splendid on you.’
He looked her over and she blushed, not really sure what was happening. Marcus smiled, eyes sparkling. ‘Tell me more about yourself,’ he said. ‘What else do you enjoy, besides being beautiful, of course?’
Before Sonya could respond, Azam was by her side. His eyes were slits, his mouth turned down in a frown. Alarm rang through her.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked Azam, but he was focused on Marcus, who gave Azam an easy smile.
