That’s a whole new take on library steps, she thought, admiring a neon-lit ladder resting against shelves of leather-bound vintage books. What an incredible space. Who’d have thought to put those rugs against dark wooden floorboards? India had agonized for hours over what to wear for this first meeting – it was important to get it right. After all, Jean-Luc was one of the world’s foremost designers. She had settled on her Isabel Marant linen jacket, A-line Cottonier skirt and Repetto ballet flats. Surely you couldn’t go wrong with a totally French ensemble to meet a Createur de mode? She stood up as Jean-Luc appeared in the doorway wearing a crumpled white linen suit and panama hat. The ‘story’ he is telling today is more Last Days of the Raj than anarchic revolutionary, India thought. “Enchante,” he said, air-kissing her on either cheek. “Please let us sit down. I have ordered afternoon tea. We ’ave the room for the next hour; we will not be disturbed.” “Thank you,”
