Page 71 of Gates of Tartarus

The girl’s now looking nonplussed, and no wonder. I’m doing a fine job of acting the airhead.

“We’ll have one Salted Caramel and one Chocolate Hazelnut cupcake and two coffees with milk,” Kavi cuts in, pulling out his wallet.

“But you wanted Carrot Cake and tea,” I whisper up at him.

“Changed my mind,” he winks, and a warm glow enkindles deep within me.

Taking our trays, we find a table outside and lay out our fare. I cut the cupcakes into quarters and push a plate towards him. “Try a bite and tell me what you think,” I coax.

I watch as he picks up a piece of the Chocolate Hazelnut and places it in his mouth. After Jorge’s and Emlyn’s reaction to my coffee, I’m a little apprehensive.

“You know,” Kavi says after a moment, looking thoughtful, “I can see why you like it. That’s not half bad.”

“Told you!” I crow. At last – someone who shares – or at least doesn’t object to – my sweet tooth! I take a bite of the Salted Caramel, closing my eyes in pleasure as the flavors hit my tongue. For a moment, there’s a companionable silence as we each take a sip of coffee and watch the well-heeled of London walk by.

All of a sudden, I feel unaccountably tongue-tied, a thousand butterflies flitting about in my stomach. Now that we’re not walking, or looking at costumes, or ordering cake, I can’t think of anything to say, which is ridiculous, as we’ve been hanging out together for weeks. But we weren’tdatingbefore. I take refuge in my analytical side, which wants to know all about the change in our set-up. How did the guys decide to date me?Oh, to be a fly on the wall forthatconversation! I stir my coffee, wondering. How do they envision things going forward? Are they my boyfriends or my partners? Have they discussed, well, discussed, uh, canoodling? Oh for heaven’s sake, Maela! Sex! Have they discussed SEX! And now I’m picturing Kavi naked, those heavy muscles going taut, skin gleaming in the lamplight, a broken oath escaping, as I place my hands on his pecs and slowly lower myself down. All the while, Jorge and Emlyn look on from the shadows, awaiting their turn. My eyes go wide, and I squirm in my chair.

“So, how’s work going?” I squeak, almost in desperation. “You said some of the agents are really liking the yoga classes you’ve set up. And the meditation. That, umm, proving popular?”

Kavi nods and tells me that he’s had a lot of people sign up for introductory lessons. He’s going to be splitting his time between MI5 and MI6 to make it easier for agents to fit in a daily session. The mental discipline will help ground them in a stressful job, and the physical practice will keep them fit, especially those who spend more time behind a desk. Some already practice meditation or yoga, of course, and he’s designing more advanced classes for them. He’s also looking into relaxation tanks; apparently, they’re popular with the Seattle branch.

“And your family?” I prod, like a maniacal game-show host. “How’s your family? Everyone well? The new baby? Any pictures?”

Kavi nods again, looking bemused. Yes, everyone’s doing well. His sister has shared loads of baby photos on the WhatsApp family group. They’re holding thenaamkaran, the naming ceremony, this week and are planning a lavish party after.

“Have they chosen a name yet?”

“I don’t think so. They’re torn between Salted Caramel and Chocolate Hazelnut, so they might end up combining the two and go for Salted Chocolate. Or Caramel Hazelnut. It’s hard to say.”

“Oh, har, har, har.” I wave my spoon at his deadpan face. “I bet you think you’re hi-flippin-larious, don’t you?”

He flashes me an unrepentant grin, which crinkles up the corners of his eyes and shows off the tiniest of gaps between his two front teeth: “Yes.” One word, just one word, and my poor little conquered heart turns over. Not that I’m going to let him know just yet.

“Hmm. Let’s just say your talents lie elsewhere,” I counter dryly.

Kavi gives me a heated look and takes a sip of coffee. “That they do.” Holding my gaze intently, green eyes glowing, he pops a bit of cake into that wide, biteable mouth and licks his fingers, one by one.

My inner goddess is clearly having a siesta, because I blush to the roots of my hair. Could hetellfrommyexpressionwhat I was fantasizing about earlier? I freeze, trying desperately to think of something sexily witty to say.

He laughs then, the sound rich and melodious. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered,priya.”

“Good-o,” I say faintly, my cheeks going even pinker. “So,” I clear my throat, hoping to get some control over myself and the conversation, “will you be sorry to miss the ceremony?”

“It would be nice to be there, but it’s a long trip. And things are still too complicated with my parents. Even on the phone, they can’t help nagging. If I went, they’d try to get me to stay, to go back to med school, settle down, start a family. I know they mean well, but they’re fixed in their thinking and can’t understand that, just because something makes them happy, it wouldn’t necessarily make me happy. Or to put things another way: just because my choices are different, that doesn’t make them wrong.”

“I can understand that. My dad’s proud of me, but he didn’t want me to come to London. He’d have preferred I got a job in California, and the closer the better. But I wanted to explore the world, starting with England. Someday, I’d love to take the Orient Express right the way across Europe to Istanbul, and then travel the Old Silk Road all the way to Xi’an.”

“And see the Terracotta Warriors?”

“Yes.” I lean forward slightly in my eagerness. “Wouldn’t that be great?”

“Let me know when you want to go, and I’ll book a ticket.”

“Alright,” I smile shyly. “You’re on!”

“So, what about your mum? How does she feel about your moving to London?” Kavi takes a last bite of cake and washes it down with the remains of his coffee.

I pause, reflecting. “Maintains I should have gone to Paris, despairs of having grandchildren, thinks I’ll never meet a man working in academia.”