The Ethical Assassin

“Ex-boyfriend,” I said. “Mostly.”

She gave me one of those sly, sideways looks. “Right. Ex-boyfriend. Try telling him that. Things in that department haven’t been so smooth. Anyhow, my father was sure that Todd was bad news, and he wouldn’t let up about it.”

“You said those feelings run in your family. Didn’t you have a feeling about Todd?”

“Yes,” she said. “I did.”

“But you had a different feeling.”

“No, I also had a feeling he was bad news. But sometimes a girl likes a little of that. Maybe,” she said, “in your own way, you’re sort of bad news, too, Lem.”

The waitress arrived just in time to keep me from trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. I could instead occupy myself with figuring out what to eat for breakfast. It occurred to me that I didn’t really know how to order breakfast, not if I was going to be a vegetarian. And when had I decided to become one? I didn’t even know, but it seemed to me odd now to think of eating meat, and I figured it might be best to hold off until I had a chance to think things through a little more. So I ordered oatmeal to play it safe, and I asked the waitress to keep milk and butter out of it.

Chitra ordered a cheese omelet.

“Are you a vegetarian?” she asked once the waitress had gone.

I don’t know why, but I blushed. Given her discussion of her attraction to guys who were bad news, a category to which I now inexplicably belonged, I didn’t know why my possible vegetarianism was so touchy. But it seemed to be. “Sort of, maybe. I’m pretty new to it, but my friend Melford, who you met- he’s been trying to talk me into it. And I guess once you hear certain things about how animals are treated, it’s hard to go back to pretending you don’t know.”

“Then don’t tell me,” she said. “I enjoy chicken too much.” Maybe I looked disappointed, because she smiled at me and shrugged. “How long have you been a vegetarian?”

“Not long,” I said.

“How long is not long?”

“Since last night.”

She laughed. “Anything special happen last night? You didn’t meet a nice vegetarian girl, did you?”

And there I was thinking I couldn’t get more nervous. “Not really. I mean, no. No girls. I was just talking to Melford, and he has all these arguments. They’re very convincing.”

“So is Melford,” Chitra observed. “I didn’t talk to him long, but I could tell he’s very charismatic. You get to talking to him, and you feel like you’ve known him a long time, and it’s easy to open up. I said some things to him, and maybe I should have kept quiet.”

Like finding me cute, I thought. In fact, I almost said it, but I caught myself in time. I wanted her to like me, not to see how clever I could be at her expense. “Yeah, he’s charismatic.”

“How long have you known him?”

“Not that long,” I said.

“Longer than you’ve been a vegetarian, I hope.”

“A bit longer,” I said, trying to sound playfully casual but hating the half lie.

“He’s very likable,” she said. “But, to be honest, I sort of didn’t like him anyway. I mean I did, but I didn’t trust him. I don’t know, I don’t want to be down on your friends or anything, but if you don’t know him that well, I thought maybe you might want to be careful, because the truth is, as far as feelings about people go, I had one about Melford.”

“Oh?” My casual oh.

“I had a feeling that he’s bad news himself. But in a real way. Not like with Todd, who could end up in jail as easily as community college. Or with you, in your interesting kind of messed-up way. I mean real bad news.”

There was so much to say, really, that I hardly knew where to begin. Her sort-of-ex-boyfriend who might end up in jail. Did I ask why? How, precisely, was I interesting and messed up? Beyond all that, she had pegged Melford. Did she have these vibes like, oh, maybe he might have just killed some people?

“What does that mean, exactly? Real bad news?”

She held up her hands. “I’m sorry I said anything. It’s not my business. I worry, is all.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She was worried about me.

I picked up a packet of sugar and began to tug lightly on the opposing corners. “Since we’re talking about trust,” I said, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to bring up.”

“Oh?” She leaned forward, and her large eyes grew larger.

She liked me. She had to like me. She was flirting with me. Wasn’t she?

“The thing is…,” I began. I tugged on the sugar packet again, this time almost hard enough to rip it and send sugar sprawling over the table. That would be bad. “The thing is, I kind of get the feeling that Ro

“Ro

“You’re teasing me,” I observed.

“Can you seriously think that I would need to be warned off a fellow like that?”

“I don’t know. I figured, you know, you’re not American, and he’s such an American type. He might not be as obvious to you as he is to me.”

“Mmm,” she said.

“Have I offended you?”

She said nothing for a moment. Then, a massive, dazzling smile, white against the vibrant red of her lips. “No. Not at all. I only wanted to make you squirm a bit.”

On the way back to the motel, Chitra kept glancing over at me and gri

“What exactly is so fu

“I grew up in a family of lapsed Hindus,” she said. “My parents aren’t religious, and we ate fish and chicken, but never red meat- out of habit, I suppose. I’ve never had a hamburger.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’ve never had one. Do you think I should?”

“Well, they taste good, but as a new vegetarian, I can’t really endorse a move like that.”

“You know what?” She was now twirling a little strand of hair above her right ear. Her ears were unusually small. “I think we should go out for hamburgers.”

“Except that I’m a vegetarian. You’re forgetting that part.”

“I’ve never had one, and you’re not supposed to have them. That’s what will make it fun. Don’t you find the forbidden exciting?”

I could think of no way to tell her that I’d had enough of the forbidden in the last twenty-four hours to last me some time. “Hamburgers aren’t forbidden to me. I’ve given them up.”

“Well, now you’re challenging me, aren’t you? I’m going to make it my mission to cause you to lapse.”

“I have pretty good willpower.”

“We’ll see.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that everyone has a breaking point.”

“Not me,” I told her. “Once I decide to do something, that’s it.”

“Oh? Suppose I offered to sleep with you if you eat a hamburger?”

I stopped in my tracks.

She let out a laugh, playful and strangely i

“You’re assuming I want to sleep with you.” I had no idea why I would say such a thing, but I felt exposed.

“I suppose I am,” she said.

I had no response, and we walked for a moment in strained if amicable silence. I decided it was time to change the subject and raise the question I’d wanted to ask. It needed to seem casual, relaxed. “So, what’s it like being in the Gambler’s crew?”

She studied me as we walked. “Why?” Her voice was strangely flat.

“No reason. I’m just wondering. I work for a nice guy, but you work for the big boss. I was wondering what it was like.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s pretty much the same as anyone else’s. Or maybe I haven’t been around long enough to know.”