Chapter Thirty-Three
Kareena
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Kareena tucked her phone back in her pocket when her rental car pulled onto her street.
“Just park right in front?”
“Yes, please,” she said.
Her house. Well, almost. She’d woken up every day that week, still bruised from her interaction with Prem, but acknowledging the silver lining.
She’d have her home, even though it would be devoid of the love she’d always wanted there. But she could survive. She would survive.
“Whoa,” she heard her driver say reverently. “Is that a BMW E30 M3?”
“What did you say?” Kareena jerked forward until she was practically in the front of the car with him. There, through the front windshield, was her beautiful shiny new baby with a fantastic paint job, new tires, rims, the works. “Oh my god!”
She bolted out of the car and ran in her heels, her feet sliding from being so sweaty in the late summer heat. “It’s my Beamer!” Kareena shrieked. She vaguely heard the car service vehicle peel away from the curb behind her. Her entire focus was on the classic BMW parked in front of her home.
Dave, her crusty, middle-aged mechanic, climbed out of the driver’s seat. He had clean clothes on for the first time since she’d met him years ago, and held up a set of keys. “She’s done!” he proclaimed proudly.
Kareena ran her hands over the rear of the small sedan, tears pouring down her cheeks in earnest now. It was finally here. The vehicle she’d been working on for years. “I thought I was supposed to come to you! I have to pay for all the work.” She’d been worried about that, because the bill was going to take a huge chunk out of what she was hoping to use as a down payment to her father.
“The bill has been taken care of,” he said, grinning.
“Oh, Dave. You can’t comp me—”
He snorted then let out a wheezing laugh. “Girl, I love this car, but I ain’t stupid. Rims, custom paint, all that body work was a fortune!” He named a figure that was thousands higher than what she anticipated paying. “Your boyfriend paid for it.”
Her brain stopped and stuttered like a Microsoft application. She brushed away her tears under her glasses. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Your boyfriend!” He reached in the driver’s seat and pulled out an envelope with a stack of papers inside. “Here is your repair and restoration records. On the top is the invoice. A man named Dr. Prem Verma called. Said that you’d mentioned that you gave us your car to work on. He paid for everything, including a rush fee and a delivery fee.”
Kareena took the envelope, then opened it to see the invoice on top.
Oh my god, Prem paid thousands for her car.
Was this a way to apologize to appease his guilty conscience? She had no idea what it meant, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to text him to ask.
“Thanks, Dave. I really appreciate it.”
“Thank you. If you need a repair job, let us know. But I think you can handle most of it yourself. You did a bang-up job on restoring what you did.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I can always tell when beauties like this are going to be in good hands.” He patted the hood of the car. “You’re going to be okay.”
She smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m going to be okay.”
A massive Tacoma roared down the road toward them and stopped right in front of Kareena and Dave.
“That’s my ride,” Dave said, and pulled open the passenger-side door.
“Thank you again. Seriously, this is the best present ever.” She had her car now. She felt like her possibilities had to be endless.
“No problem,” Dave replied. He hauled himself up into the truck. “Oh! I forgot. Your boyfriend asked me to include a document in the back of that folder. You may want to check it out when you get a chance.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
Dave waved, and Kareena turned back to her car. In the bright light of the early evening sun, it sparkled. The interior leather looked polished and new. It even had the new car smell again. The simple dashboard was clean, and the only upgrade was a music system that allowed her to connect to Bluetooth on her phone.
Kareena looked up at the house, at her grandmother’s car in the driveway, then down at her car. She then opened the envelope and flipped to the back where there was a journal article from the Cardiology Journal of America called “The Illusions of the Heart and Misconceptions of Love.”