Robin found an emery board in a canister on the sink and sat with me. “We talked for a few minutes while you were in the kitchen. She’ll stay in Dharma for a few days, visit with Guru Bob and some of her friends, and then we’ll follow each other back to the city when she goes in to meet Rajiv.”
“She seems happy to be here,” I said cautiously. Robin and her mother had a complicated relationship, to say the least.
“I was amazed and excited to see her at first.” Her smile turned acerbic. “But then did you see how quickly she turned everything around and talked about herself?”
“Sort of,” I said with some caution.
“Oh, come on. The way she went on and on about getting arrested in Uganda? She tried to pretend it was all because I had the measles and she was worried—and I’ve never had the measles, but whatever. But no, it was all about her. All about her and the United Nations, all about her and her missionary flights around the world. It’s always all about her. Maybe she can’t help herself. It’s just the way she operates. And maybe I’m just hypersensitive to every little thing she says, but still.” She tried to shrug off the negative thoughts, but I could see she was hurting.
“You’re right,” I said loyally. “When Shiva’s around, it’s all about her.”
“Thank you.” She hugged me tightly and I hugged her back, relieved that our friendship was back on more solid ground.
I studied her. “Is that why you got so gross when you described the blood and the vicious attack?”
“Yes,” she said sharply. “I just wanted to shake her up a little, get her to realize that I was the one suffering at the moment, not her.”
I nodded. “Okay. I think it worked.”
“God, do I sound like the world’s biggest whiny baby?”
“No, absolutely not,” I said, and hugged her again.
“Good.” She took a deep breath and it seemed to clear things up for her. “So I guess we’ll get back to the city Wednesday or Thursday. And I suppose I’ll stay at her hotel with her.”
“No, you won’t,” I said. “I’ll have your place completely cleaned and good as new by then. You can go home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
She winced, then said, “I still feel bad about having you do the work.”
I leaned against her. “I won’t be doing the work. I’ll call other people to do it. And seriously? Better me than you.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I would’ve taken care of it already, but it’s been a little crazy around my place.”
Her smile was soft with regret. “Yeah, no kidding.”
“But by the time you get back to the city, it’ll be a done deal,” I said, standing up to give her a hug and end the conversation.
Derek and I made it back to the city with barely enough time to shower and change into party clothes. For me, the choice was simple. I owned one black dress and one pair of black heels. I’d worn the dress once before, last month when I had a special date with Derek, but we’d had to cancel due to an inconvenient murder.
His offices were located in a beautiful four-story Mediterranean-style building on California Street near the top of Nob Hill. The party took place in the spacious two-story-high lobby, where a crowd of over one hundred people was mingling, drinking, laughing, and chatting when we walked in. They all seemed to know one another, naturally, which intimidated me a little. But since I was here with the boss, I was determined to be cool.
Derek’s office administrator, Corinne, stood near the wide arched doorway and acted as unofficial greeter, so I met her first thing. She was in her fifties, slightly overweight but comfortable with it. Her hair was a beautiful platinum gray bob and her eyes sparkled with wit and good humor. She introduced me to her husband, Wallace, who gave truth to the notion that couples grew to resemble each other with age.
A waiter passed with a tray of champagne glasses and Derek handed me one. I took a bracing sip for courage.
“How are you enjoying San Francisco?” I asked Corinne.
“Oh, we’ve fallen in love with the city,” Corinne exclaimed, her British accent clipped. “The first day we arrived, we spent two hours wandering through Golden Gate Park. We got lost in the Japanese garden. It’s exquisite. And your arboretum rivals our Kew Gardens. You’ve seen it, of course?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful,” I said. “Do you live near the park?”
“Just a few blocks away,” Wallace explained. “We’ve purchased a lovely flat in the Sunset District.”
“I love the Sunset,” I said. “One of my brothers lived near Ninth and Judah for a while. You must be fairly close to the beach.”
“Oh, yes. We love your beaches. So rough-and-tumble. And the fog is lovely.” She patted her husband’s arm. “Reminds Wallace of home.”
“I’m so glad,” I said, smiling at him.
Wallace took a long sip of beer. “Drove up to Mendocino last weekend. Spectacular drive. You Californians have no idea what a paradise you live in.”