"Huh." Jay searched for his reflections in his Allen Edmonds. "Mine's already a professional malcontent. Takes after her mother. Neither one hears a word I say; Skylar never did, and Carol just sort of stopped, after the lust wore off." Jay raised his eyes. "You happy?"

"I'm on the journey, yes—at least, since I took the other path." David picked up the invoice Jay had abandoned and offered it again. "Keep the yellow; the original and pink are mine."

"Two copies?" Jay cast into his breast pocket for his checkbook. "I thought it was just you."

"One's for the accountant—my wife, Sunny."

Jay filled in the date. "What's that short for?" He glanced at David's queue. '"'Sunshine?'"

"No, actually. It's a corruption of 'Shuang.' She's Chinese; her name means 'bright, clear, and openhearted.' It's the best Lizzie could do when she was two—and she'd already mastered 'sun.'"

Jay raised his pen and peered at the ticket. "What's this, under your name?

"Is that Chinese?"

"Yes. Those two characters are 'chan zong'—for 'Zen Buddhism.'"

"So—you're a Buddhist?"

"Sunny teaches and Lizzie and I study; we all attend temple. Yes."

"No shit! What does that involve?"

"Deepest understanding of self and the pursuit of true enlightenment."

"What else?"

"That's pretty much it."

Jay looked truly perplexed. "No, I mean, what's the payoff? You know, you're Jewish, you chair the temple Building Fund and plant trees in Israel. Catholics keep the Archbishop in silk and marble; Mormons tithe ten percent, minimum, and study their ancestors in caves. Protestants—well, protest, or whatever. What's your angle?"

David folded his hands before him. "How do I explain this? Zen worships everything, and nothing. It is the pursuit of the ultimate truth. Professor Suzuki calls it 'opening the mental eye to look into the very reason of existence.' Buddhism is a ladder useful to reaching that truth. Zen is the tong for grasping it."

"Wow." Jay scribbled, stopped, and began rolling the capped end of the pen between his lips. "Does it help?"

"Understanding can bring peace, yes."

Jay pointed the pen at David. "You think I could get some peace?"

"With total commitment, patience, and diligence? Of course."

"What are you doing Thursday?"

David blinked. "Um...I don't think I'm being clear, here..."

"I'll make you a deal." Jay shaped the offer with his hands. "Spend Thursday with me; audit a practice day, and show me some Zen techniques I can use to lower my emotional temperature. I'll pay you my hourly rate. What do you say?"

David half-shook his head. "Listen, Mr. Johanessen—"

"Jay."

"Jay. Zen isn't exactly like a day spa that takes drop-ins."

"How about this? We do a day together, as outlined. If within a week I feel like you've helped me lower my general level of stress at least ten percent, I'll double the retainer as a bonus. C'mon—at six hundred per, that works out to ninety-six hundred bucks. That's a lot of backed-up toilets."

"In all honesty, Jay, I can't see how eight hours is going to help your situation that much." This time, it was David who reached out to clasp Jay's shoulder.

Jay smiled. "You really should have stuck with it, David, you know? With your negotiating skills, you'd be sitting where I am today. At least. Okay, final offer: six grand, flat, for eight hours, plus a match for the bonus. Twelve grand. Cash." Jay stuck out his hand.

David stroked his chin and reached into his back pocket. "Let me check on Thursday." He opened a small, spiral-bound notebook and flipped pages.

Jay guffawed. "God! Don't you even have a BlackBerry? A PDA?"

"Oh, this model has all the latest features. Light; thin; indestructible. No batteries, never needs a 'hard reset,' and—" He tore out a page, crumpled it up, and shoved it into a front pocket. "—totally secure." He took a stubby pencil with an eraser out of the wire and pushed it at Jay. "Handsome stylus, with built-in 'Delete' function. Infinitely-variable font size and style..."

Jay opened his hands in surrender, then re-offered his right. "Thursday?"

David took Jay's hand. "Thursday's okay. I've got a Net-Zero 690 filter replacement in Bel Air that I can move to Friday." He raised the other index finger. "One codicil."

"What's that?"

"No warranties, express or implied. Failure of consideration is not an option."

"Done. I'll drive us to the firm." Jay gave David a final once-over. "Dress appropriately."

David retrieved his toolbox and gestured amiably. "I think I still have the Armani in the back of the closet. I hope the two-button front is acceptable; it's a little dated..."

"Go."

"Right." David pivoted. "See you bright and early Thursday."

"One last issue."

"What's that?"

"Don't call me 'Grasshopper.'"