Nights in Nepal (The Vagabond Series) Read online

  Nights in Nepal

  The Vagabond Series

  Tarrah Anders

  Contents

  1. Tazmin

  2. Tazmin

  3. Gio

  4. Tazmin

  5. Gio

  6. Tazmin

  7. Gio

  8. Tazmin

  9. Gio

  10. Tazmin

  11. Tazmin

  12. Gio

  13. Gio

  14. Tazmin

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Dear Friends,

  Read More by Tarrah

  About the Author

  NIGHTS IN NEPAL

  Tarrah Anders | Tarrah Anders, LLC [email protected] |www.tarrahanders.com

  COPYRIGHT © 2021– TARRAH ANDERS

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Formatting: Tarrah Anders, LLC

  Cover Design: Sinful Cover Hoarder

  Published by: Tarrah Anders

  1

  Tazmin

  I sit in the airport terminal.

  On my way to returning to the place that I now call home.

  I spent the beginning of June back in the states before what some would call the summer season, only to us in Nepal—it’s the monsoon season.

  And it’s my favorite time of year.

  Some days out of nowhere, a torrential rain will come down and flood the streets for a solid ten to fifteen minutes, while people mill about and go on with their lives as normal. Then the sky will open up and the sun will shine down once again. Mother nature can be a temperamental bitch in my neck of the woods and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I have already traveled fifteen hours and I am sitting here in my final layover waiting for my connecting flight. There is a row of lounge chairs facing the walkway, which is perfect for people watching and I’m one of twenty people sitting here in this bright space.

  I look out and see travelers walking past with their rolling bags beside them, rushing from one place to another. I should be getting some sleep, but the bright lights and constant chatter of some teenagers at the beginning of this area won’t allow my brain to settle. A group of well-dressed businessmen and women walk into the lounge and begin to move in my direction. There are plenty of vacant seats and as they move to them, my eyes connect with a handsome stranger. He smiles and then takes a seat a few loungers from me. I observe him as he settles in. His polished good looks fitted suit and well-manicured hair tells me that he’s a busy man. Someone who must work a lot. But there’s something about him that is wild too.

  I look down at my attire. I am wearing flip flops, yoga pants and a hooded sweatshirt. With these fine dressed people surrounding me, I feel like a schlub. He and I connect eyes again before someone taps him on the shoulder and drags his hazel eyes away from me. His hair is slightly long, but still short and curly. He has a five-o’clock shadow, a gorgeous smile and warm brown eyes. I could stare at him all day, but I would rather not make him uncomfortable with my gawking, so I turn away from him and back to the tablet on my lap, acting as if he is just anybody in an airport. One that I am insanely attracted to.

  I get lost inside the book that I’m reading and before I know it, I hear the garble of numbers for my next flight. I stand up, gather my belongings, and walk past all the loungers, including him. My eyes stay forward, but I feel his eyes on me as I pass.

  I briefly look back, hoping for one last glance when I see that all the businessmen and women are walking out of the sitting area right behind me.

  Are they on the same flight as me? Am I leaving for the wrong flight?

  I see the plane lined up outside the gate and look at my boarding pass, this is the correct gate. I look up and standing right behind me is Mr. Hot and Handsome. I pretend to not even notice or be affected, but I am.

  Once in the plane and my seat, I look at my watch. Another four hours left in the air and I’m home. I lean my head back on my headrest and close my eyes.

  I walk through the isolated looking airport, make my way through customs, and find myself a ride along the sidewalk curb lined with drivers. The ride to my flat that I share with my business partner and close friend, Nandi in Thamel is a quick one. My driver knows how to maneuver through the busy streets without any caution and before long, we’re pulled up to the curb outside the market downstairs from the flat.

  We live on the 2nd floor on the corner of the street close to our storefront, just above a small market. I like our small corner of the neighborhood. It’s bustling, down the street from one of my favorite places, the Garden of Dreams. Not too far from my breakfast cafe and close to the pizza joint that I like to go to as well to unwind from a busy week.

  Yes, there is pizza in Nepal, and it’s damn good. There’s also some amazing beer.

  I walk in the door and am greeted by the smell of delicious spices. I place my bags down and walk towards the kitchen where Nandi stands in sweat pants and a tank top with her long brown hair tied up in a knot on top of her head.

  “Hey,” I greet Nandi, who turns around with a spoon in her hand and a smile.

  “Aye, you’re home. You should have told me, I could have come and picked you up.”

  “No, you know how annoying navigating at the airport can be. You would likely crash your bike into someone out of annoyance.”

  Nandi is from Nepal, but she’s got an English accent as she grew up largely in the UK. She moved back here for tourism, and we met when I was volunteering here at an orphanage for the summer. We became fast friends and when my visa was up, she convinced me to take a ridiculous chance and open up a business with her here. I went back to the states while I worked alongside my father at his construction company, saved up money and six months later, I moved into Nandi’s flat and we began building our company.

  “Have fun?” She asks returning to face the stove and stirring something in the large pot on the burner.

  “It was nice to see everyone. Of course, they all begged me to come back home and to stop adventuring. That’s what they called it, ‘adventuring’. Dad kept making promises of booking a flight and coming to visit, but mom kept squashing that.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not by a beach.” I shake my head. My mom is completely against traveling anywhere that doesn’t have a nearby beach.

  We laugh and I grab something to drink from the small fridge that we have beside the stove.

  “What are you making, it smells delicious.” I sniff the air.

  “My mom’s recipe for Dal Bhat.”

  “Why didn’t you lead the conversation with that? Is it vegetable or chicken curry?”

  “Your favorite.” She grins over her shoulder.

  “You truly are the bestest friend ever, you know that, right?” I clap my hands in excitement. “I’m going to go put my bag in my room and rinse off in the shower.”

  “Perfect. Dinner will be ready in abou
t twenty minutes. If you’re not here, I’ll eat it all myself.” She teases as I exit and grab my bag on the way to my room.

  While I loved being back at my parents, it didn’t feel like home to me, not like it does here. I lay on my bed for a minute and stare at the ceiling of my bedroom. I love living off the beaten path, sure Nepal has a large boost of tourism for the thrill seekers, but it feels real and earthly to me.

  Also, I freaking love curry.

  2

  Tazmin

  “What the hell happened while I was gone? It was only for two weeks?” I close my laptop and peer at Nandi.

  “There’s a group of people that booked basically every single excursion that we offer. I had to get Amar to agree to his brother and him helping when they arrive. Amar will likely be working full time the entire time this group is here.”

  “Bless these people. I recognize some of these names. If we can get releases, we might be able to reach a wider audience.” I tell her excitedly.

  “What do you mean, you recognize these names?” Nandi asks.

  “I want to say that some of these people are part of a popular group in the states that basically live for this stuff. I’m almost certain this person has hiked Everest a bunch of times.” I open up my laptop again and point to the name on the spreadsheet.

  “Hasn’t everyone who’s into hiking around these parts, gone up on Everest is bunch?” She rolls her eyes.

  “Either way, this is great. Looks like we’ll be busy for that whole week. Along with the volunteer program setting up their guests for excursions, we’ll be booked solid.”

  “Exactly. Oh, there were more inquiries from one of the newer volunteer programs that wanted to be exclusive to our treks especially. The message came in yesterday, I figured that we might need to hire Amar’s entire family for the season.” She laughs.

  Amar has three brothers; and one of them is married into a resort family that we currently partner with for some of our tours already. I think we need to have this discussion sooner rather than later.

  “Let’s get all this up on our board, then we can figure out the needs of this new group. And then we can see where we’ll need help to make a legit schedule that should take us into the next month and maybe have some vacancies for time off.” I suggest standing up and moving to the wall where our monthly calendar whiteboard is. Nandi begins to name off excursions, number of attendees and start times as I write everything down.

  After thirty minutes of writing, I sit back down, and we both look at the board.

  “I love how colorful you made it.” Nandi notes, hitching her head to the wall.

  “Color coded is the only way that I can keep the visualizations in my mind.”

  “What if I was color blind?” She asks jokingly.

  “I would still do it, for me and just explain it all to you or something. But luckily, you’re not, so stop asking silly questions. We have a few gaps, and we will definitely need the help.” I note looking at the wall.

  “If we worked every day -.” She begin before I cut her off.

  “Then we would burnout. Remember, we’re not the thrill seekers, they are. We just do this stuff for fun.”

  “We’re of able body and able mind.” Nandi comments.

  “While that’s true, I don’t want to risk injury for over-extension for us, Amar and whoever else we get to help. We can hire out help. We can afford to spare some rupees.”

  “Alright, alright. Then, how about this compromise. We hire out for a day each, we each have a day off in this week period. We close on this and this day, since we have nothing currently planned. And we double up in this week for the volunteer groups.” Nandi points to the calendar at various points as she speaks.

  “We have three days until the first appointment with this group,” I notate.

  “Correct.”

  “Then we need to talk to Amar and see how many of his brothers and friends can join us. Amar is good for Everest, I’m good for the Bhoti Khosi, canyoning, rafting and a few smaller peaks, you’re good for the squares and historical tours, we need to assure we have enough gas, and our drivers won’t be overworked too. Then seeing where we can place whoever Amar can get. Can you call Amar in early? We don’t have any excursions today, but he mentioned wanting to catalog all our equipment. We may need to buy more and send Amar to pick it up in order to have it in time.”

  We both look back to the calendar, we have exactly three days until we are working non-stop.

  We begin moving and making calls. I start making the guest badges and itineraries. Once I finish with the admin stuff, I walk down to the market and grab some protein filled snacks and a few cases of bottled water. As I’m in the store, I see Amar walking towards the stairs to our storefront on the second floor and I call his name to help me.

  It’s going to be a crazy month.

  “I think that’s it. You should probably take tomorrow off, and I’ll take the following day. That way, like you say, we won’t get burnt out.” Nandi suggests as we walk through the crowded streets of Thamel.

  “I just had two weeks off, I don’t need to.” I shake my head.

  “That was two weeks off of work, but I saw you still working. You were replying to emails and setting up a few things here and there. Besides, you had to deal with family, that’s work enough.” Nandi laughs as we turn the corner.

  “No, I don’t need it.” I tell her.

  “You do, and you will. Take a day, go to your favorite place, and treat yourself to lunch. Read a book and just be. Then, you can go into workhorse mode, and I wouldn’t dare to boss you around.” She crosses her hands over her heart in a promise.

  I contemplate what I want to do to relax before the storm of busy hits us and I have the perfect idea.

  We got the extra help that we needed, the new volunteer company scheduled, in combination with our other working relationships. The biggest volunteer program here in Nepal at the tail end of the month held a company meeting. Our three men show, went to a total of seven and just that thought of such growth alone was insane.

  At the end of the day, Nandi and I sat in our flat, going over our new business expenses over a glass of wine.

  “Maybe you going home more often will bring us more good favor like this.” Nandi comments.

  “Ha! I don’t think that the two are connected.” I shake my head and set my glass down as I pick up my notepad.

  “I believe that everything happens for a reason.”

  “And what reason would be for my going home and our business. That would leave us shorthanded, and that wouldn’t be fair. Plus, we’ve got excursions planned out that would be impacted usually six months in advance.”

  “We could clone you; you know like how they did with that sheep.”

  “Um, no. We won’t be doing that. Have you seen that one movie from the nineties? Michael Keaton has clones of himself, and each version of him has something wrong or quirky with it. Nope, not happening. Plus, science isn’t there yet, and I hope it won’t be for some time. Humans can be pretty stupid.” I tell her.

  “Be that as it may, I still think that it’s a miracle that when you were away, suddenly we got our calendars the fullest they’ve been since we’ve opened.” Nandi notes.

  “I’m tired, and you’re making ridiculous statements. I’m going to go to bed. Big day tomorrow!” I stand.

  “What are your plans.”

  “I’m going to the Garden.”

  3

  Gio

  I paid my entrance fee and stepped through the brick columns into a paradise. Outside these walls is a loud and busy intersection that has motorcycles and cars zipping by fast trying to get to their destination. However, as if it’s magic, the loudness disappears once you step into the gardens and I’m eternally grateful for the reprieve.

  As much as I love the hustle and bustle of the city here, I also need a little less. The agent at the Vagabond Travel Agency suggested this place and their cafe as a nice place to relax
, and I would have to agree with them.

  Everywhere you look, there’s greenery. I walk down a path, under an archway and find a bench beside a fountain. I take a seat, place my hand over the back of the bench and cross my leg.

  The smell in the air is fresh. You don’t smell any of the foods being cooked out on the sidewalk across the street. You don’t smell the sausage cooking from the diner next door, and you certainly don’t smell the smog from the vehicles.

  This is a little piece of heaven. I’ll have to definitely make mention of this in one of my articles.

  I force myself to stand and continue venturing deeper into the gardens and that’s when I see her.

  She’s beautiful and familiar. With wild red hair, ivory skin with freckles and a smile to stop a man in his tracks.

  It’s the woman from the airport. The one who was out of place amongst my friends and myself. She was dressed casually for travel and sitting in the middle of the layover section. We all sat around her, all fifteen of us. And she pretended to not notice. But I watched her as she pretended to not watch me.

  She looked just as beautiful that day in the airport as she walks through the space, surrounded by such a lush landscape.

  I’m the one now, pretending to not notice her, as my body gravitates in her direction. I saw the moment that she noticed me, and a shock of recognition passed by her gaze out of the corner of my eye as I passed her.

  Now it’s a game of cat and mouse, and who will pounce first?