"That's right." She gave him a smile. "And you should come then. By the way, why do we need two Guardians for a shopping trip? Are the wholesale markets really that dangerous?"
Max's lips quirked in a half-smile. "They're not, but Kian thought that the sisters would feel safer with an escort. They are a little skittish after what they've been through."
"Kian is just being overprotective," Rana said. "We are tougher than we look."
"We appreciate the gesture nonetheless," Soraya said with a glare at her sister.
As a large van pulled up in front of them, the driver's door opened to reveal a man who made Fenella's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.
Even by immortal standards, he was devastatingly handsome—chiseled features, perfectly styled blond hair, and a smile that could cause traffic accidents.
Surprisingly, though, she felt no stirring of attraction even though his looks were precisely what she'd used to go gaga over. Now, she appreciated his beauty in a detached way, like admiring a particularly well-executed piece of art. Pretty to look at, certainly, but it stirred nothing in her belly. That particular sensation seemed reserved exclusively for her professor.
"That's Jackson," Max said. "He's a prodigy, a self-made millionaire at twenty-three."
So young?
Wow, the guy was really something, but there was still nothing.
Jackson smiled. "Thank you for the glorious introduction." He opened the side sliding door. "Ladies, please take your seats."
"Fenella," she introduced herself, shaking Jackson's offered hand. "I'm tagging along to help carry bags and provide moral support."
"The more the merrier," Jackson said. "Help yourselves to the water bottles in the cooler."
They climbed into the van, the sisters taking the middle rows while Max and Theo claimed the back. Fenella slid in beside Kyra, who grabbed her hand and squeezed.
"Thank you for coming," Kyra said.
"Thank you for inviting me. I get antsy when I have nothing to do."
As Jackson pulled out of the parking structure, Rana leaned forward. "Do you know any Persian markets?"
Jackson glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "I have to admit that I'm not familiar with any. My suppliers are wholesale operations. But let me find out." He pulled out his phone and activated the voice assistant. "Please provide a list of Persian markets in the Los Angeles area, including locations and distance."
The surprisingly pleasant female voice began listing options, and Jackson's eyebrows rose with each addition to the list. "Wow.There are quite a few." He glanced back at them. "I had no idea there were so many Persian supermarkets throughout the city."
"Arezoo says that Los Angeles has one of the largest Persian populations outside of Iran," Soraya said. "Apparently, many settled here after the revolution."
Fenella hadn't known that, but then the Persian diaspora hadn't been a subject of interest to her, even though her travels had somehow led her to Iran. She should have known better, but it was water under the bridge now.
"We want to see what's offered in those markets," Parisa said. "So we can emulate it in our store."
"We need spices that we can't find in the regular supermarket," Yasmin said. "Even for our own cooking at home."
"And the bread," Rana added with a dramatic sigh. "The bread here is nothing like home."
"Don't get her started on bread." Parisa chuckled. "She'll lecture you for an hour about the proper way to makesangak."
"It's an art form!" Rana protested, which set off an argument among the sisters about various Persian breads that was accompanied by a lot of hand gesturing and bouts of laughter as they teased one another mercilessly.
It was enviable, and Fenella wished she had sisters to banter with like Kyra had. She could barely remember her brother, and even when she'd still lived at home, they hadn't been close.
"Wholesome Choice is one of the larger ones according to the reviews," Jackson said. "And it's not too far."
Agreement rippled through the van, and soon they were on the freeway, but Fenella couldn't tell in which direction they were heading. Not that it mattered. She watched the city roll by, marveling at how different it was from the isolated beauty and safety of the village.
There weren't many people on the sidewalks, actually almost none, but the vehicle traffic was heavy, and everything seemed to be moving at a fast pace.
