An hour and a half later Caspian walked out the door, Mr. Aki helping him with his bags on his own way out. I watched him through the glass, stuck behind the counter while a customer took his time deciding between moisturizer creams, and tried to remember if, since I didn’t have my own, I’d given Caspian Tiki’s phone number.
A car pulled up to the curb with perfect timing, two men stepping out to grab his bags and help Caspian into the back seat.
“Which would you recommend?”
I pulled my eyes away from the car. “I’m sorry?”
“Do you have a recommendation?”
I stared down at the little bottles that littered the counter, taking a minute to register the question. Cooling, diamond, anti-pollution, and a half dozen others. They all worked, it just came down to the wallet.
“Depends on your sk
