and acquired property and scouted out sites. He loved his job and was happy to chat about it. Soon, he was talking about the condo project in Everville and all the problems he’d been having acquiring the Crown Theater. Some of the girls’ eyes glazed over, and a few of Priti’s friends drifted away or excused themselves to get a drink. But his sister remained rapt. She had fond memories of Everville, too.
She tapped a finger to her lips. “So...this woman won’t sell her building because...?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I mean, it has sentimental value to her, but from what I’ve seen, the place is falling apart. I don’t know how she even affords the taxes on the place. It seems like she can barely keep the lights on. It’s actually a bit depressing.”
“Just because she doesn’t have an apartment in Brooklyn and earn six figures doesn’t mean she’s not happy.”
“I think she might be a bit of a shut-in.”
“Why? Is she some kind of crone, wearing tissue box shoes and collecting her urine?”
“She’s only twenty-eight.” He swirled the ice cubes around his glass. “It’s just that she’s always at the theater. God knows what she’s doing there. And the one public event I saw her at didn’t go well—she kinda freaked out. Like some kind of panic attack.”
“You can’t just assume she’s a shut-in. You hardly know her.”
“That’s the problem. I can’t find out anything about her. She isn’t on Facebook or Twitter or anything. Not under her real name, anyhow. Her best friend in town is the old man who runs the grocery store, and he couldn’t even tell me what she was into.”
Priti regarded him, chin tilted, then smiled slowly. “You like her.”
“What?”
“You like her,” she teased. “And you’re frustrated you can’t do your usual wine and dine to get her to like you back.”
“That’s ridiculous. She shot me in the nuts with a paintball gun. She barely said thank you for all the gifts I brought—”
“See, that’s your problem right there. You think a woman owes you something just because you pay attention to her.”
He was taken aback. He wasn’t that entitled—was he? Then again, Miriam Bateman was probably the first woman he couldn’t coax a real smile out of. And it did annoy him.
He suddenly felt a little sick about himself.
“Even if she were interested, you still want to take away something that obviously means a lot to her,” Priti added. “Of course she’s suspicious of your motives.”
“I’m just trying to be nice.”
“So that she’ll sell you her property. C’mon, Shekky, don’t act like the injured party here.” His sister swigged her drink. “I’ve never seen you go after anyone seriously enough to believe it would last. You like the chase, and you like to win. This woman can smell a predator a mile away. I’d have shot you in the nuts, too, if I saw you coming.”
“I wouldn’t have.” Chloe beamed at him, flicking him a flirty look.
Any other day he might have offered to get her a drink, but he was too preoccupied with the conundrum of Miriam Bateman.
His father waved him over. He was standing with his cousin Sanjay, who worked at the electronics store Shane’s father ran. A year older than Shane, Sanjay had always been the dutiful one, the one Shane assumed would take over the family business if and when his father retired. Shane had helped out at the shop when he was younger, but while he was a good salesman, he wasn’t as savvy with electronics as Sanjay.
“We were just talking about you,” Sanjay said by way of greeting. “Ranjeet was thinking of expanding the business, maybe opening a smaller branch just for repairs.”
It always weirded him out how his cousin addressed his father by his first name rather than Uncle like all his other cousins did. “Where would you open it?”
“Ideally, not far from the shop, but the rents are pretty high. Don’t suppose you know any good real estate agents?”
“I’ll get you some names.” He nodded to his father. “Things going okay, Baap? How’s your knee?”
“It’s fine.” Ranjeet waved him off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I try to make him sit at the front, but he won’t.” Sanjay gave a put-upon sigh.
His father didn’t like to be reminded that he was closing in on seventy. Shane had meant the query to subtly clue him in on the advance of his years, and that maybe expanding the business at this stage was questionable, but his father knew his son’s tactics too well and dodged. “How’s Everville these days?”
“It’s great. A lot has changed since our last vacation there.”
“I miss that place,” his father said wistfully. “The fishing on Silver Lake is still the best.”
Sanjay and Shane both chuckled. If Ran wasn’t talking about the business or the latest cricket match, he was talking about fishing.
“Well, maybe you should take some time off and visit for a weekend. I’ll be staying there for a few weeks.”
“A vacation? That’s unlike you, Shekhar.”
“Not exactly.” He told them about the Crown and Miriam Bateman, and the town meeting scheduled in June. “It’s my personal time, but it’s an unofficial working vacation.”
“Ah. Apples don’t fall far from the tree. Just like you, Ran, he doesn’t know how to relax.” Sanjay toasted him with his drink.
Ranjeet ignored him. “I remember that old theater. I took you kids to see all the Indiana Jones movies there. Shame it closed.”
“There’s a new big theater in Welksville.”
“Yes, but these old independent movie houses are an endangered species, you know. A whole industry has collapsed because of digital projection.”
“For someone whose business revolves around selling the latest and greatest in technology, I wouldn’t think you’d defend the obsolete for nostalgia’s sake.”
“You can’t put a price on nostalgia. Theaters like the Crown remind me of the ones I went to in Mumbai as a teen...” He lapsed into Hindi as he described the classic Bollywood films he’d seen when they were still new then, and how he’d met his wife, who’d been a movie set manager back in the day. Shane’s connection with his Indian roots had always been tentative at best—he’d been born and raised in New York and had lived all his life in the Tri-State area. While he appreciated his father’s point of view, Shane was a man of the here, now and future.
“Well, the Crown’s defunct. It’ll be condemned before it ever opens again,” Shane said. Strangely, the thought made him feel a bit guilty.
His father shrugged. “Too bad. But you know what they say. ‘Change is the law of life. And those
