The Sari Shop Widow. Shobhan Bantwal
is true, Rishi, but what if that fellow will not sell?”
Shah paused. “There’s no harm in asking, is there?” He laid a large hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Jeevan-kaka, when was the last time you and I couldn’t convince someone to sell?”
Jeevan grinned. “Okay, we will ask.”
As the two men made their way toward the office, Anjali shifted gently so they wouldn’t see her. Seconds later she jumped when a voice close to her, much too close, whispered, “You may come out now, Miss Kapadia.”
“Oh!” Hot blood rose in Anjali’s cheeks at the sight of Rishi Shah standing behind her with his arms crossed over his chest, staring down at her exactly the way Mr. Goldstein, her high school principal, had done when he’d caught her cutting class. She felt like she was sixteen again. And she didn’t like the trapped feeling one bit.
“M-Mr. Shah!” When and how had the man crept up on her so quickly? She’d seen him and her uncle walking away. “Are you spying on me?” He’d managed to make her feel like a thief in her own store.
“Not at all.”
“Sneaking up on me like that? I’d call that spying.”
“I beg to differ, Miss Kapadia.”
“But—”
“You were spying on Jeevan-kaka and me,” he interrupted her dryly, his accent more clipped than ever.
Shah looked enviably cool. He was standing so close she could see the scar on his eyelid clearly, and the thin, black rim around his steel gray irises. Steel gray—that’s what the shade was. And just as cold and hard as the metal. She shivered a little. Mr. Goldstein came to mind again.
Finding no suitable words against his accusation, she did what came instinctively. She turned defensive. “I was merely walking around my property, checking on my things when you and my uncle happened to walk in.”
“One of the drawbacks of having mirrored walls is that one can see everything around in a single glance,” he said. “I saw you emerge from the office and stop when you spied us. I clearly observed you tiptoeing and assuming a position behind the chania-cholis.”
“Like I said, I was checking on the chania-cholis.”
“You, Miss Kapadia, wanted to find out exactly what Jeevan-kaka and I were discussing.” His dark eyebrows shot way up, challenging her.
“Maybe. Besides, it’s my store, and I have a right to know what you two are planning to do with it.”
A glint of humor, both astonishing and sudden, appeared in his eyes, making the steel turn to a softer gray, more like pewter. “Since you eavesdropped, you heard it all.”
To give her shaking hands something to do, she pretended to adjust the scarf on a mannequin. “All I gathered was that you’re planning on turning my boutique into some type of department store.”
He became silent for a moment before breaking into an amused smile. “Department store? Where did you get that idea?”
Much to her chagrin, her lower lip started to tremble. The scarf slipped out of her hands and glided to the floor. “How can you do this? You and Jeevan-kaka charge in here like a pair of Indian bulls, criticize everything, and then plan to turn an elegant shop into a cheap mockery.”
“That’s not the way it is,” he said, sounding like a patient schoolteacher. He bent down to pick up the scarf and handed it to her. “Without knowing the details of our plan, you’re simply jumping to conclusions.”
Carefully placing the scarf back around the mannequin’s neck, she started to move toward the office. “Then why don’t you and Jeevan-kaka enlighten me and my parents? Let’s hear what your grand plan is all about.” She generally didn’t make barbed remarks, but she couldn’t help saying, “Buy-one-get-one-free specials on rare diamonds from South Africa? Chania-cholis and shervanis made of polyester and rayon? Blue-light specials on Myanmar rubies?”
“Blue-light specials?” He laughed. “Is that an American marketing concept?”
“Not funny, Mr. Shah.” She was trying hard not to burst into tears.
“It wasn’t meant to be funny.” He wasn’t laughing anymore. “I’m trying to learn some American merchandising terms.”
She stopped in her tracks abruptly. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s nothing personal, but my parents and I are under a lot of stress at the moment. My sense of humor is on…vacation.”
“I understand. Mine frequently takes a holiday,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. The left eye, with its puffy lid, looked smaller than the right when he smiled.
She realized something. The flash of humor in his face was like a mantle lifting away from him. A human being existed underneath that cold, granite-like façade. And she wasn’t sure whether she liked or disliked the discovery.
Her uncle saw them approaching. “Here they are.” He motioned to them to step inside the office. “Rishi, I was waiting for you so we could tell them together what you and I were discussing.”
Anjali looked at her parents. It was hard to judge what her father was thinking; he wore a puzzled frown. Her mother looked tense, brittle enough to shatter.
“Rishi, tell them, beta,” said Jeevan, looking pleased and paternal. “He has a brilliant plan, Mohan,” he assured his brother.
Shah stood with his hands in his pockets and surveyed the room for a moment, once again seemingly studying every detail, down to the last thumbtack holding up a newspaper cutting on the wall. “You have a marvelous store here. Jeevan-kaka and I are impressed. It has some unique designs and it shows great promise.”
“But?” Anjali cut in.
“But…I think it needs something more.”
“More what?” demanded Anjali.
“It could use some upgrading.”
“How much upgrading?” Usha asked, clearly suspicious.
“Considerable,” said Shah, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “My recommendation is a complete overhaul—an expansion, if you will.”
“Expansion?” said Usha in an astonished whisper.
“We’re up to our eyeballs in debt,” Anjali said. “The last thing we need is to sink more money into the business.”
“But Jeevan-kaka and I—”
“We need to clear out our present inventory,” Anjali cut in, “not add to it.”
He offered her a reassuring smile. “You don’t need to worry on that count, Miss Kapadia. Jeevan-kaka and I are planning to finance this operation.”
“You’re loaning us the money?”
He shook his head. “We’ll be your partners. We’ll take on fifty-one percent of the debt.”
She frowned. “That means…you’ll own fifty-one percent of the business.”
Anjali felt the carpet being jerked out from under her feet.
Chapter 5
Rishi noted the expression on Anjali Kapadia’s face. She had turned pale and her mouth was quivering. Her breath had quickened, making her chest rise and fall visibly beneath that soft-looking silk blouse that clung to her breasts. And a pretty bosom it was, too—full and proud.
Her mother looked like she was about to explode. And her father seemed just plain stunned. What was worse was that they had all slipped into silence.
Rishi was prepared to field angry rebuttals, protests, and arguments, but not utter quiet. It was rather…disquieting, he reflected with a wry inward grimace at his own play on words.
The