" She doesn't what?" I didn't think I needed to ask who "she" was."Know me that well."I wasn't sure how to respond to that comment. Granted, I detecte... aslightly confrontational vibe that first evening before I told her who Ireally was. It wasn't until I informed her of what was going on that herattitude toward me shifted. Much like that first night, she now actedstandoffish, though the tone in her voice was one of sadness, rather thanof anger."I'm sure she does," I said, trying to make my. ”Her dark eyes darted to the side, and she smiled: she had dimples. “Thank you.”“Would you like to go for coffee, sometime?”She looked surprised, but her smile grew. “Okay.” Such a direct approach often fails, but I figured I had nothing to lose, and it had worked. She handed me a store business card with her name – Radhika – in red. I thanked her, and left. I called her the next Friday, and we met on Sunday at two o’clock. Radhika looked breathtaking. Her lush black hair was tied into a. More

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