<strong>"Sure,"</strong>she agreed, made amenable by the contact.  Maybe Miss Porter's wasn't going to be so bad.  Mary used her cell phone to call for the car service and soon the girls were outside waiting.  A black BMW 7 series pulled up and the driver, in a suit and not in livery, got out and held the doors for both girls.<br/><br/><strong>"We're in the mood for Indian,"</strong>she told the man.<br/><br/><strong>"I know just the place, Ms. Green,"</strong>he assured her without having to be introduced.  Mary didn't know him but little Ms. Personal Assistant had set it up as always.<strong>"It's just up the road by the golf course in Avon."</strong>The trip was short, barely ten minutes, and the man not only pulled up to the front but escorted both of them inside.  A quick conversation was held with the hostess and both girls were shown to a table.  Mary sat down and ignored the menu.  Mya's seat was opposite hers on the tiny two-top table.<br/><br/><strong>"I know what I want, <em>Methi Saagwala</em>,"</strong>she said.<strong>"Do you know why Indian food is so good?" </strong>Mary grinned, an easy look for once,<strong>"Because it's made with tandoor oven care."</strong>