Antony had a painting of the Three Graces hanging on his restaurant wall as well.
Mills looked at the three "plump" women, seemingly trying to tell which was which, when Antony emerged carrying a platter.
"Have you been to Dubai, Mills?"
"I thought we were 'friends,'" Mills said with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
"There are many kinds of friends. Not every kind is close enough to call each other by name." Antony set the silver platter before Mills. "Tender lamb with rice—Mandi."
"Arab food with red wine? Are you the devil?" Mills said incredulously.
"There are three things in this world without borders: music, food, and doctors. Americans were once hostile to the Japanese, yet now they eat sushi all the same."
Mills lowered his head to look at the platter before him. The rice gleamed golden, looking exceptionally appetizing.
"You can think of it as Spanish paella." Antony smiled. "Traditional Mandi is eaten with your hands. In Arab tradition, hands are considered the cleanest tools, while luxurious tableware breeds sin."
"Can I know why you're studying me?" Mills asked. "Your current job must pay quite well. Do you want to write a book?"
"Being a psychiatrist for actresses and models may sound like an enviable job to ordinary men, but it doesn't suit me." Antony paused. "Let's suppose there was a girl named Julie. She was extraordinarily gifted—not only an excellent student, but also trained in ballet from childhood. She was born into a wealthy family. Her father ran a luxury hotel, and her mother was a retired actress. In this age of ours, adult women unconsciously become 'messengers' who transmit social messages. Julie's mother wanted her to stay slim, so once Julie entered puberty, she made her diet. Julie herself was also a perfectionist.