“BLOODY HELL, you drive like a whirling dervish on PCP.”
I gritted my teeth and eased up on the gas. Tahir was the absolute king of backseat drivers. Maybe on the way back we’d stop off at a secluded cliff, I’d lure him near the edge, summon up another gale-force wind, and wave good-bye as he was blown over. Sounded like a plan to me.
“I’ll drive on the way back,” he said.
“No way! Here we drive on the right. Besides, there aren’t any cows or elephants on the road, and I’m afraid you’ll be confused.” It was a low blow, but I smiled as I watched his jaw tighten.
“I’ll have you know I did my MBA at Wharton, where I drove regularly in Philadelphia traffic for two years.”
“Oh really, was that on your bio data? Somehow I missed it,” I said sweetly.
“And where exactly did you attend college? Some party school no doubt.”
“You’re such a snob!”
“You’re the one who implied elephants and cows clog the roads in India,” he pointed out.
“Don’t they?”
He sighed. “Yes.”
“Well you were right about the party school,” I admitted. “UC Santa Barbara.”
“Stunning location.”
I smiled. “Definitely.”
Our destination now appeared before us, composed of sparkling fountains, sidewalk carts, ocean breezes, and tree-lined, Spanish-tiled walkways.
Fashion Island.
Loyal customers of the locale referred to the site as Newport Beach’s premier outdoor shopping experience. Never, ever, to be confused with anything so bourgeois as a mall.
It was still early, barely ten, but almost all the spots directly in front of the entrance were full. As it turned out there was one slot at the end, but I drove past it. Too tight a squeeze.
“You just passed a spot,” Tahir pointed out.
“It was too small.”
“No it wasn’t.”
“Yes it was. Trust me.”
“I don’t. You could easily have done it.”
After three more aisles of arguing, I pulled in front of the spot, got out, and chucked Tahir the keys, hard. He caught them easily, jumped in the driver’s seat, backed up, angled the H2 to the right, and slid into the spot perfectly, with room to spare.
He hopped out, oozing with satisfaction, and tossed me back the keys. I reached out to catch them and missed. I snatched the keys from the pavement, snagging a nail in the process and stalked past Tahir.
I could control the forces of nature, but apparently I couldn’t park.
I sped up, but Tahir kept up the pace easily, and had the nerve to whistle. Dammit, he even did that well!
“I don’t know,” Tahir mused, coming out of the dressing room. “I like the gray pinstripe better.”
“They all look amazing on you,” the salesman said, rushing forward.
Like a magnet, Tahir’s ass called to me. I spent a good moment appreciating its merits. Honestly, did he spend half his day doing butt-tightening exercises or what? I managed to tear my gaze away, but the Neiman Marcus salesman to my left had no such self-control. He was openly gawking.
Tahir was unfazed by the man’s attention; he was too busy checking out his image in the mirror. I couldn’t conceal a sigh of impatience. As much as I lived and breathed shopping, Tahir was rapidly turning me off my favorite sport. He was able to detect minute differences in the exact same pieces of apparel.
He raised an eyebrow in my direction. “What do you think?”
“The pinstripe,” I said for the fourth time.
“Hmm.” He turned back to the mirror.
From the deep reaches of my purse, a Louis Vuitton monogrammed minibag, the James Bond theme song erupted. I looked around to see if anyone dared mock my choice of ringing tone and pulled out my cell phone. I flipped it open. “Hello?”
“This is Ram!”
The sheer loudness of his voice had me clamp my hand to my ear, and hold the phone six inches away from my head. Very, very cautiously, I removed my hand but kept the phone at a safe distance.
“Hey, Ram. You’re not calling halfway around the world, you know. You don’t have to shout.”
“Of course I’m not calling that far!” he shouted.
It was a lost cause. “What’s goin’ on?”
“I am talking to you, that is what is going on. Where are you?”
“Fashion Island. I’m showing someone around.”
“You should be vanquishing evil.”
I rolled my eyes. “I had a little encounter last night.”
“Oh? How did it go?”
“Not very well.”
“Hence your need for practice.”
I looked over at Tahir, and he quickly turned his attention back to the mirror. I’d swear he’d been listening in, though. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I’m in the best place for that, Ram. There are people all around me. If the good, the bad, and the ugly show up, my Malevolent Meter will know.”
There was a long pause, then Ram said, “Are you ready for your next lesson?”
Ready? When had I been ready for any of this?
I looked up and sure enough, Tahir’s reflection stared back at me from the mirror. I couldn’t tell if he was eavesdropping or just staring. I moved off a few feet and turned away for good measure. “Okay,” I said into the phone. “I’m ready. When and where?”
“Tonight.”
Tonight was Aunt Gayatri’s party. Okay, now I had two things to weigh. On one hand, strengthening my powers so I could one day restore the balance of good and evil in the world. On the other, facing the onslaught of familial wrath, maternal silent treatment, and internal guilt if I dared not attend.
The world would have to wait, just for a few hours.
“Not tonight,” I said. “Tomorrow? I can be there as early as you want,” I threw in helpfully.
“I do not rise before afternoon,” Ram said.
“Jet lag?”
“No, I prefer to sleep late.”
“I thought holy men were supposed to wake at dawn and bathe in mountain springs or something,” I said.
“I cannot think of anything more intolerable,” Ram replied. “We will meet tomorrow at one, in time for lunch. I have heard of another great place.”
Visions of Burger King danced in my head. “How about if I choose the restaurant?”
“Then it is so.” He hung up.
I turned around and my nose came squarely in contact with Tahir’s solid chest. “Ow!” I said, but stayed there a moment longer. Very, very solid.
“Who’s Ram?” he asked.
“A man who worships the ground I walk on.” Well it was true, in a way.
“The poor lad must not get out much.” Tahir walked away, a Neiman Marcus bag in each hand.
Oh yeah, the guy was definitely going down.