“And I have other stuff you can look at,” I added.

“No, this is perfect. Shabby but colorful.” Jeremy scurried over to the small mirror hanging near the front door and tossed the length of the scarf back and forth and over his head. “I love the sparkly beads.”

“Take it,” Robin insisted. “Consider it an even trade for the cookies. Besides, I’ll never wear it. My mother is insane to think I would.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy cried, and clapped his hands. “I want you both to be there. It’s two weeks from tomorrow. Write it in your calendar.”

“I love the Castro Street Fair,” Robin said. “I go every year.”

I got up and found a pencil, then wrote the event in my office calendar. In one of the cabinet drawers I found a clean white cotton cloth, and as I wrapped the Kama Sutra up to protect it, I asked, “Would you guys like a glass of wine?”

The men exchanged a look; then Jeremy waved his hand with indifference. “Only if you insist.”

“I’ll get the wine,” Robin said, laughing. “You show them your sexy new book.”

“You have a sexy book?” Sergio said, moving closer to the worktable. He was fascinated with my bookbinding work. I unwrapped the cloth and pushed the book his way.

“Is this it?” He touched the spine of the Kama Sutra.

“Yes, and wait till you see it,” I said, excited all over again. I opened the book and turned to the page Robin and I had been peeking at earlier.

Jeremy began to squeal and slapped my arm. “You naughty girl.”

“This is fantastic,” Sergio said in awe, as he carefully ran a finger over the outer edges of the page.

“I know. I can’t wait to take it apart.”

“Ooh, that does sound exciting. Maybe I should sign up for that bookbinding class you teach after all.”

Later that night, I read the letter of authorization from Shiva’s friend Rajiv Mizra. In the same envelope, he’d included the original sale document from the Mumbai bookseller who sold him the Kama Sutra.