Kera shrugged. “I didn’t like the idea of being stuck in a cubicle all day.” She looked at Christian. “Sorry.”
Christian chortled. “You don’t need to be. That part is terrible.”
Smiling, Kera turned back to Mr. Kim and gave a little shrug. “So, I decided to take a few months, maybe a whole year, off and think it over. And, well, now I’m considering going into business for myself.”
“Oh?” Mr. Kim raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” confirmed Kera. “Not sure what, yet. I’m still in the process of learning the basics. It probably won’t be a string of bars, but just to annoy my mom, I haven’t taken the option off the table.”
Christian and Sam laughed at that, but Mr. Kim made a sour face.
“American kids are very disrespectful,” he muttered, though he only seemed half-serious. “But good for you. Let me know if you would like advice. I obviously know some things about running a business.”
“Thank you,” Kera told him honestly. She wasn’t sure he’d have any advice that would be useful for a magical brain-bleach company, but she fully intended to listen. He was right that he had run a successful business for years, and he had more than earned her time with his help over the months.
“Dinner is ready,” Mrs. Kim proclaimed, turning away from the stove.
“It smells amazing,” Christian said, his sincerity evident in his voice. “I love Korean food but haven’t had it in a while. When I moved downtown, there just weren’t any good places nearby.”
Mr. Kim waved a hand dismissively. “None of them would be as good as my Ye-Jin’s cooking anyway.” As his wife brought the dishes to the table, he explained what each was. Often, the names of them came out fully or partly in Korean, leaving him scrambling to find English words.
Sam, who had presumably explained them to his friends, broke in once or twice to help.
First were multiple bowls of kimchi, a mix of pickled cabbage and radishes with garlic. One was set before each of the diners.
Next came the main course, jjimdak, consisting of well-cooked chicken and vegetables in a deep brown sauce. Bowls of white rice and steaming mugs of green tea rounded off the ensemble. It all looked and smelled wonderful, and Kera was briefly concerned that she might overeat, given her recent unnatural hunger.
Once everything was set up, Mr. Kim smiled and encouraged, “Dig in!”
They all did, with Kera devouring the first half of her meal without speaking much except to compliment the hostess on her cooking. Conscious that she was a guest, she made sure not to speak with her mouth full, but it was a hardship to take even a second away from the food.
Christian, she noticed, was trying to eat slowly and carefully, without making a mess or looking too gluttonous.
Kind of adorable, actually, Kera thought.
As the eating slowed down, conversation picked up again. The Kims asked Christian more questions about his job, and Kera asked how Mrs. Kim was feeling. She was careful to avoid specifics.
The woman tried to smile. “Better,” she said, though it was clear she was tiring.
“I think she is doing well,” Mr. Kim agreed. He put a hand atop his wife’s. “Better once they can get her in for treatment at the hospital. She only has to be steady until then.”
Kera nodded. “She will be. Sam, how’s school?”
Sam shrugged, looking resigned, and the story came out over more tea. He was doing well, particularly in his art classes, but some of the kids were giving him a hard time. Kera hastened to assure him that people like that didn’t matter once you graduated and got out into the real world.
“Yeah,” the boy agreed, “I know. Thanks, though.”
At last, the meal came to a close, and after saying their thanks and their goodbyes, Kera and Christian excused themselves. Mr. Kim accompanied them downstairs and into the store while his wife and son cleaned up.
“We appreciate you coming,” Mr. Kim said graciously. “Very good to see you both.”
Christian nodded. “Thank you very much for dinner and for inviting me into your home. And please pass along my compliments again to your wife. That food was wonderful.”
“Right,” replied Kim. “Now, go outside a minute while I talk to Kera.”
Christian raised both hands, palms outward, and gave an exaggerated expression of shock, as though professing innocence of something. Kera had to bite down on a laugh. When he was gone, she looked at Mr. Kim and waited for his assessment.
Mr. Kim was smiling. “Kera, he seems nice. Responsible, too. Not a bad choice. Let us know how things go, and be smart, okay?”
She gave him a hug. “I will.”
Kera stepped outside as Mr. Kim flipped the sign on the door back to Open. It was getting late, but she expected he’d run the store for another hour or so before closing up for the night. The streetlights were coming on as the last of the day’s sunlight turned red and receded before the blue-black of the night sky.
“They’re nice,” Christian remarked.
Kera smiled. “Thank you for coming tonight. They’ve been worried about me lately, and they’re so nice. When I moved in, they helped me get settled, and when Zee was in the shop, they had Sam deliver my groceries.” She realized she was babbling and bit her lip.
“It’s good to have a found-family wherever you live,” Christian said. “That’s what my mom calls it, anyway. I suppose that makes Ted mine.”
Kera laughed.
“So,” Christian asked, “what next? I have an idea or two, but I figured I’d ask yours first.”
“Same,” Kera admitted. “Wanna go back to my place and pick up my motorcycle?”
Christian froze in place, as though he’d hit a metaphorical wall and had no idea what to do or say next.
Kera gave him a look. “You’re not afraid of a little bike ride, are you?”
Her date blushed. “Not, uh, really, no. Sure.”
“Really? Because we don’t have to go.” Kera watched him. “It’s just pretty fun, and a better way to see the city, I think.”
Christian cleared his throat. “I’d love to.”
I wonder what that was about? She smiled, though, and jerked her head to indicate the direction. “Wait, where did you park?”
He looked mortified. “I don’t have a car.”
“Oh. Well, that’s easy, then. I can drop you at your place after if you want.”
“That’s nice of you, but I couldn’t impose.” He definitely seemed uncomfortable now.
She got the sense that she’d pricked his pride. “It’s just…I’d rather not have the night end just yet.”
He smiled, and some of the tension went out of his shoulders. The two of them headed for her warehouse apartment.
Chapter Fifteen
During their walk to Kera’s apartment, she and Christian chatted about their experiences navigating LA’s infamous labyrinth of suburbs and traffic-clogged intersections and chaotic expressways, whether by public or private transportation.
At one point, Kera thought she saw a pair of assholes sizing the two of them up, perhaps for a mugging, but they made the wise choice to leave them alone. Still, she was relieved. She wasn’t keen for Christian to see the vigilante side of her yet.
Huh. Vigilante. She’d never thought about it like that before, but that was what she was now.
As they neared her home, it occurred to Kera that just as Chris had obviously been embarrassed by his lack of wheels, she had something to admit.
“Umm,” she began, “I don’t live in a conventional, uh, place. It’s a warehouse that got converted into apartments. Or, in my case, apartment slash garage slash personal gym. Pretty good deal, but y’know, unconventional.” She shrugged.
Chris perked up. “That’s kinda cool. I wouldn’t have thought of that. With the way real estate has been lately, it’s probably the best route you could have gone. More bang for your buck.”
She laughed. “Nice choice of words. Yeah, I’m happy, even thoug
h my mom isn’t super pleased with me for not having a proper townhouse or something.”
They approached the low building, which crouched unobtrusively at the edge of a block of semi-derelict industrial structures not far from more residential and commercial areas. Kera motioned for Chris to wait out front while she let herself in the side door and then opened the big front one, exposing her workout setup—and, more importantly, her bike.
“Chris,” she announced, “meet Zee.”
He waved. “Hi, Zee. May I ask why you named him that?”
“I dunno.” She flipped up the kickstand and pushed the bike out, then pulled the door shut behind her, making sure it was locked. “He’s a Kawasaki Z900, so that’s the main thing. Plus, he’s probably the best friend I have these days. I take good care of him.”
Chuckling, Chris replied, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He raised each leg and looked at the soles of his shoes to make sure they weren’t too dirty.
“Hey, could you watch him for a minute while I run inside and change?” Kera asked. Most people would not be trusted with Zee’s safety, but she had a good feeling about Chris when it came to stuff like that.
He agreed, though he looked awkward as he stood there holding the bike and glancing out at the street.
Kera went back in through the side door and pulled off her sundress and overshirt, replacing them with a pair of jeans, boots, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. She also grabbed her helmet and a spare helmet, an older one of hers. Chris’s head didn’t appear too massive, so it ought to fit him. She blew the dust off, swiped it on her bedspread, and decided that was good enough.
Back outside, she presented her date with his headwear. “People think all bikers are scary renegades, but let’s say I appreciate the value of safety. Wearing this thing is non-negotiable.”
“So be it.” Chris shrugged and put on the helmet.
Kera raised one long leg over the bike’s seat and scooched up farther than she normally would have. “Hop on behind me,” she instructed him.
He did, taking a deep breath and tentatively putting his arms around her waist.
“Hang on,” she instructed and started the engine.
They drove off into the night, with Christian’s grip noticeably tight and jittery at first but relaxing into mere firmness as he got used to the ride. Something about the thought that he’d never been on a motorcycle before and she was the first one to give him that experience pleased her, and she smiled.
“Where are we going?” Christian asked when they reached a stoplight. Though he was clearly speaking loud, his voice was muffled.
“Uh,” she answered him, “nowhere in particular? I just like to drive and think.”
He laughed. “Sounds good.”
She headed north through Chinatown since it had nice scenery at night, then veered northeast across the river into Lincoln Heights and Montecito for no reason other than because she hadn’t been through that area in a long time. Plus, there were more trees and hills than in most other parts of the city, which would make for an interesting drive.
She was just beginning to wonder if he was getting bored when he blurted, “This is fun as hell. Why did I never get one of these things?”
“Never too late,” Kera shouted back. “You’re still young, man.”
When she glanced up a moment later, she saw something through the window of a house: a large, angry man shouting at a woman half his size and shoving her onto a couch. It might have been an argument that would defuse itself after that.
Maybe.
She drove for another five seconds, then slowed to a stop and hastily dismounted.
“Okay,” Chris commented, “so, what are we doing h–”
Kera cut him off. “Wait here. I’ll, uh, be right back, okay? I promise everything is cool. I just saw someone I need to talk to real quick.”
Bewildered but not suspicious, Chris agreed, sitting astride Zee and waiting as the girl jogged down the sidewalk and wove between a couple of houses toward one they’d passed a moment ago.
Kera had disappeared ten minutes ago, and Christian was starting to worry.
Was she buying drugs? That didn’t sound like her. Nor did it seem likely that this was one of those scenarios where she had stranded him, and a friend would rob him.
He decided to give it another couple of minutes before he texted her. He didn’t want to seem clingy or weird. After all, he’d been having an incredible time. Dinner with the Kims had been less intimidating than he feared—a few pointed questions, but nothing designed to put him on the spot—and the ride had been amazingly fun.
And he’d managed to control himself with his crotch effectively pressed against her ass...barely.
Suddenly, Kera ran back up at a much greater speed than she’d left. She was out of breath, and he thought he saw her wince when she came down on her left leg.
“Everything okay?” he asked her.
“Oh. Yeah.” She ran a hand through her hair. “There was a…slight emergency. I had to help someone.” When she climbed back onto the bike, her clothes smelled of what seemed to be grease smoke, as though she’d put out a cooking fire.
He was intrigued. “So, you saw an old friend, and their kitchen exploded?”
“Not quite.” Still astride the bike, she sighed as he climbed up behind her. “Look, Christian, I’ve had an amazing time, but—”
Shit.
“—would you mind if I took you home now and we caught up next week?”
He was so dizzy with relief that he didn’t think he’d mind anything right now. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be fine. I mean, I wouldn’t mind. And…uh, your friend back there—”
“I can’t really talk about it.” She wouldn’t look at him as she put her helmet on.
They drove in silence, Christian’s mind churning. Had he said something wrong? What had happened in those ten minutes?
When they reached his place with a few brief directions muffled through helmets, she wasn’t very communicative. She seemed to have closed off from him.
He’d definitely done something wrong.
“Christian.”
He was at the door when he heard her voice. He turned as she jogged over. She looked genuinely sorry, and after a moment, she gave him a hug.
“I had a really good time,” she told him. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m looking forward to seeing you again. If you want to.”
“I do want to.” He sighed and opened his mouth to ask if she was really okay.
She ducked away before he could. “See you later. And remember, you have to be the one to ask for the second date. It’s only fair.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t touch her eyes. A moment later, she was gone.
He thought as she walked away, What was all that about?
Christian woke up the next morning with no clearer idea of what had gone wrong the night before. The part of him that knew he wasn’t great with women suspected he had made some mistake, but he could not for the life of him figure out what it was.
They’d had dinner, they’d walked, they’d laughed, they’d had a great time driving around…
And then she’d left him with the bike on a random street and come back a while later smelling of grease smoke, and everything had been different.
She had told him that she wanted to see him again but that he would need to ask. What was it she’d said? Only fair.
Still, the whole thing seemed weird to him.
Twenty minutes later, as Christian was sipping his morning coffee, a call came in. Ted’s name flashed on the screen. He sighed and answered the phone. “Hi, Ted. What’s up?”
“Oh, you know,” the voice on the other end began, “wanted to know the program for Monday since I slept through most of that meeting.”
“Um, I—”
“I’m kidding, man. How’d the date go?”
Christian rolled his eyes and laughed. “Right. Pretty well. I…think?”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah.” Chr
istian didn’t really know how to describe it.
“What’d you do? Did you kiss her and it was awful?”
“No.”
“Okay, on a scale of one to asked the waitress to come home with you two for a threesome, where does this rank?”
Christian took the phone away from his ear for a moment and blinked at it. Then he put it back. “It ranks at two-but-I-have-no-idea-what-I-did.”
“All right, buddy, this is why you have me.” He heard Ted drop into a chair. “Lay it on me. When did things get weird.”
Christian laid out the night for him. He couldn’t tell if he was relieved or more unsettled when Ted said, “Huh.”
“So?”
“I have no idea, man. That’s weird.” Ted shrugged. “Women are weird, though. Maybe she… I don’t know, it’s early. I got nothin.’”
“I need you to have more than nothing,” Christian told him, “because I’m responsible for Date Number Two, which means I have to come up with something that will impress her.”
“And we will,” Ted vowed. “Probably once we’re both at work and have nothing better to do. After we figure out what happened at Friday’s meeting because I seriously don’t remember a thing.”
“Fine.” Christian sighed.
Chapter Sixteen
The Rolls Royce buzzed across the asphalt, a black streak crossing the vast expanse of red rock plateau country that made up the majority of the borderlands between New Mexico and Arizona.
James had spent the last hour listening to classic rock, mostly from the late 60s and early 70s. It seemed appropriate on a road trip through the Southwest. They weren’t too far from the Grand Canyon, and it saddened him that they wouldn’t have time to stop there.
Neither of them had spoken much. Finding their healer was going to be difficult in a city as big as Los Angeles, and they were brainstorming.
“We could make a smaller version of our scrying spell tonight,” LeBlanc said finally. “One over a map of Los Angeles. If we let it stay overnight, we might have a better idea of where to search.”
How To Be A Badass Witch: Book Two Page 12