Chapter 6
6
S adie walked a leisurely loop around the temple, then decided to enjoy another. Her parents had brought the family to this festival a few weeks before they’d died, and Sadie had returned with her sisters a couple of times in the following years. The garden’s maze of exotic, sun-drenched greenery felt like the set of a maharaja’s secret garden. Giant, stripy leaves set off intricately carved statues, while fuzzy, sage-colored mounds formed cozy nooks for tucked away shrines. Stalks of blooming Bird of Paradise arched above her head, their fruity scent blending with the cardamom and coriander wafting from the food tent.
The food tent .
She heaved a quick, annoyed sigh. What a pity to spoil this day by spending it with Grant.
In choosing their first date, Sadie remembered how Grant had whined and complained when her roommate, Abby, had begged to go to a Thai restaurant with him. In the end, Abby gave in, and they’d gone to the steak place he preferred. And in all the times she’d seen Grant eating at restaurants, their apartment, or backstage, he’d always opted for some bland American fare. She pictured him at the festival—overdressed, under-cultured, and unable to handle the slightest level of cayenne. Her nemesis must be curled up in a ball somewhere by now. And, with any luck, surrounded by clicking photographers!
She imagined tomorrow’s headlines as she made her way through the bustling crowd toward the food tent: “Golden Boy Throws Golden Fit,” “Grant Curries No Favor at Indian Festival,” or “Spice is No Dice for Future Leading Man.”
Up ahead outside the food tent, a knot of people stood around. Cameras clicked and people made sounds of encouragement toward someone or something on the ground. Oh no . Had the heat and food made Grant sick? Had she taken this too far already?
Picking up her pace, she pushed her way into the knot of festival goers to see someone seated on a low stool. Before she could fully process the scene, the person hopped up and shoved something crispy and delicious into her mouth.
“That’s a dosa!” Grant proclaimed, the sweat-shine on his face only highlighting the pride twinkling in his deep blue eyes. “And I cooked it myself.”
“You know how to cook dosas?” Sadie said once she’d managed to swallow.
“Amrita just taught me, and she’s sending me home with some of the batter!”
“Yes, don’t forget to stop by before you leave,” the woman said, her face crinkling into a lace of delicate smile lines.
Pressing the palms of his hands together in front of his chest, he bowed to Amrita in thanks. Sadie barely had time to be annoyed by this before he’d picked up the plate holding the rest of the dosa with one hand and wrapped his other lightly around her elbow.
“Now, let’s go get some butter chicken,” he said. “I know the best table for it.”
A camera clicked somewhere nearby as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
Shock and confusion left Sadie momentarily grateful for Grant’s hand on her elbow, as her own powers of perambulation were not to be trusted. He liked this place? She’d obviously misjudged him if so. Or maybe the photographers documenting his every move and facial expression set him on his best behavior. Regardless, her plan so far was not working. She’d have to find a new tactic or end this date quickly. If Grant was faking having fun, he’d jump at the chance to leave.
Testing out this theory, she fanned her free hand in front of her face. “Oof, it’s hotter than actual India out here. The photographers have gotten some shots of us, and I’m about done in, how about you?”
His head tilted like a confused puppy’s. “Done? Really?” She nodded. “Let me at least get you a proper lunch, please?”
Ugh. Did he ever give up? He moved her toward a table for two, set the dosa in front of her, and brought her a bottle of ice-cold water from a nearby cooler.
“I’ll just go pay for that water and pick up the rest of our food,” he said as he hurried off.
In minutes, he returned, carrying a tray of steaming plates. “I tell you what, I was skeptical about Indian food, but now I want to try everything.”
His sandy hair was tousled from hurrying to get her food, his rolled-up sleeves revealed tanned and toned forearms, and his face sported an irresistibly dimpled grin. In short, he looked like the sort of waiter Sadie would heavily tip, the sort of waiter she’d be tempted to slip her phone number to. But this was Grant Mason. There would be no tipping and no phone number. She hated everything about that smile and those dimples. The mere sight of them ruined her appetite.
But in her premature excitement over how badly this date would go, she’d forgotten to have breakfast. As her nostrils filled with the glorious result of a thousand years of experimentation with vegetables and spice, thoughts of revenge lost their importance. She pulled a plate of saag paneer toward her and dug in. The fresh farmer’s cheese cubes swimming in a spicy spinach sauce over rice was one of her favorites. She closed her eyes and let out a quiet moan as the flavors enveloped her. Well, if she had to be on this miserable date, she might as well eat.
“Ha! Don was right. I asked him which curry women like best, and he pointed at that green one,” Grant said.
Sadie glanced up to see his stupid cheeks dimpling even deeper with annoying triumph. “Don?”
“The guy at the food table. He’s a banker in Fresno, but he drives all the way to this temple because his father helped build it.”
“You found out all that in the time it took you to get this food?”
“Sure.” He shrugged and tilted his head. “People tell me things. I don’t know why. I guess I'm just like that.”
People tell you they love you till you dump them for the next girl in line. She ripped off a too-large piece of dosa and shoved it in her mouth. So what if he liked the food? What man didn’t like food? Surely there were activities here at the festival he’d hate or at least find boring.
The sight of a woman walking by wearing about six pounds of glittering gold jewelry reminded Sadie of the many, many…many…jewelry tables usually at the festival, all of them selling pieces that, to your typical man, would look exactly like all the other thousand pieces for sale. A sneaky smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. To your typical man, of which Grant was Exhibit A, the jewelry tent would be a living nightmare.
She waited until Grant had taken a giant bite of chicken, then stood and announced, with cloying sweetness. “Oh, Granteee, I neeeeeeed some new earrings!”
Before he could react, she sashayed away. Surprised and disappointed grunts and exclamations emanated from behind her, but she kept going. Seconds later, he caught up with her. A good little minion.
A dragon’s hoard of necklaces, bracelets, anklets, tiaras, and earrings, all in the shiniest gold and encrusted with glittering glass and semi-precious jewels, met them at the jewelry tent. Sadie took her time evaluating every item on display at every table.
“What about this one?” she said as she held up the forty-seventeenth piece, which happened to be a necklace. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
“It’s beautiful,” he said. “There’s lots of sparkly thingies on it.”
She pouted. “You said the exact same thing about the last one I showed you.”
His bottom lip jutted out in consternation. “Uh…wasn’t that the same necklace?”
She did a pretend little eye roll and punched her fists onto her hips. “Grantee, if you don’t like the jewelry shopping, we don’t have to do it.”
“No, uh, no, I like it, I do. I just…didn’t you want earrings?”
“I thought I did till I saw everything else here. But if you don’t want to help…” She fake teared-up. Her acting degree had to be good for something, and there had to be at least one photographer nearby.
#jewelryjoythief , she thought to herself. #zerokarotsforgoldenboy. #somediamondsarntforever.
They spent another twenty minutes trying on piece after piece, and Sadie sensed Grant reaching some type of limit. He kept shifting on his feet and could barely stand still. Any second now, the glorious, full on, tedium meltdown she intended for him would ensue.
“I’ll be right back, okay? Need to find the men’s room,” he said, finally.
“Dang,” Sadie muttered after he’d left. He only needed a bathroom break. This guy sure had some stamina.
Sadie didn’t need a bathroom break, but she could use a few minutes off her feet. She spotted a chair between two of the jewelry tables and slumped into it, keeping an eye out for Grant so she could hop back up and pretend she’d been shopping the entire time he’d been gone. Truth be told, she never needed to see another necklace, bracelet or set of earrings. The pieces were beautiful, but they were too large and ornate for her. Her favorite necklaces were thin chains, and her favorite earrings were studs or tiny dangles. She couldn’t pull off accessories like these. This jewelry would wear her.
Without warning, a pair of strong hands wrapped gently over her shoulders from behind. She glanced up and back to see Grant smiling down at her as he gave her a few gentle, massage-style squeezes. She gathered steam to object, but his thumbs found the exact points where she held tension. A girl could get used to this. She closed her eyes to the deliciousness of it, then reminded herself sternly who owned those hands. Was she this easily conned? Pulling forward and out of his grasp, she stood up. “You snuck up on me.”
“Sorry! You looked kinda exhausted sitting there so I thought…but hey, on my way back I think I might have found the perfect thing. Come see.”
He’d found her the perfect thing? This should be good. She let him take her hand and he brought her to a table with jewelry that appeared to be intended for children. The moment they approached, the jewelry seller reached for Sadie’s palm and set a dainty pair of earrings into it. Sadie couldn’t help herself when she peered down at them—she gasped lightly. Ruby-color glass briolette drops dangled from a bell-shaped gold filigree base set with a rainbow of tiny, faceted stones. They were exactly what she wanted—not too large, but still gorgeously exotic and vibrant. The ideal finish to any little black dress. A mirror appeared in front of her, and the woman encouraged her to try them on. She did, and they were perfect. Absolutely perfect.
“How much?” she asked.
“Those are fifty.”
“Ah, okay,” Sadie said, handing them back. Despite the reasonable price, her budget didn’t stretch that far. “Let me think about it and I’ll probably come back.”
She turned away and Grant followed. How had he done that? She’d tried her best to bore him out of his skull, and instead he’d divined the exact earrings she had in mind and found them on his own! Dang it! He sure wanted to please Julia with these fake dates. Or, more likely, wanted her to find some jewelry—any jewelry—so they could stop trinket shopping and eat more food. Yep. That had to be it.
At this point, she could sympathize. Her eyeballs were going to start flipping like a slot machine window if they had to stare at one more gold and sparkly thing. But that didn’t mean surrender. She needed another strategy for unsettling him, and fast. Her brain ached with the effort. Come to think of it, her feet ached too. Was Grant as good at foot massages as he was at shoulder massages? She mentally slapped herself. He would never touch her feet!
“Are you okay?” Grant said, gazing into her eyes with what appeared to be real tenderness but obviously couldn’t be. “I saw an activity we can do over there that looked fun and involves sitting. Want to try that?”
Fresh out of caring, Sadie nodded dumbly, then let Grant—still smiling and fresh as a newborn daisy despite the heat and the endless bauble shopping—lead her away.