Читать книгу The Sari Shop Widow - Shobhan Bantwal - Страница 12

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 three American Kapadias looked frozen like a tableau. Jeevan was the only Kapadia who seemed unaffected. In fact, he looked jubilant. A smile hovered over his face, making his nose look larger than ever. But then Jeevan had heard Rishi’s ideas in some detail and he approved of them wholeheartedly.

Finding a spare folding chair resting against the wall, Rishi unfolded it and gestured to Anjali to sit down. She looked rather fragile, and he didn’t want her passing out or something. But she ignored him and continued to stare at the floor as if fascinated by the pattern on the tiles.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, folks. I realize this is a bit of a surprise, but believe me, what the store needs at this time is shock therapy.”

Mohan Kapadia was the first to respond. He combed his fingers through his hair. “I’m not sure about this expansion idea, Rishi.”

“I’ll explain in a moment, Uncle,” Rishi assured him. It wasn’t a promising sign that the two women continued to maintain their silence. From what he’d gathered during the last couple of hours and from Jeevan-kaka’s description of the family, it was Usha who more or less ruled the roost. Anjali was the creative mind and the visionary behind the business. He’d managed to antagonize the two main players.

It was probably a mistake on his part to present his ideas with such haste. A little more tact would have helped as well. Unfortunately, being used to direct and tough business negotiations most of the time, he wasn’t prepared for this kind of delicate, dance-around-the-issue type of situation.

Perhaps he should have waited a little, prepared them to some degree and introduced his plan bit by bit. Instead, he’d delivered it in one quick stroke. But it wasn’t all his fault, damn it. Miss Kapadia, with her pretty eyes and the distrust and sadness alternating in them, had made him lose his sense of balance.

And he very rarely lost his sense of balance.

Usha turned her head and fixed her gaze on her brother-in-law. “Jeevan-bhai, I agree with Mohan and Anju. I can’t imagine how expanding a failing business is going to help. We’ll only end up deeper in debt.”

Jeevan Kapadia raised an imperious hand and motioned for the three of them to calm down. “Why are you jumping to conclusions? At least listen to Rishi first.”

Rishi sighed. Jeevan-kaka, despite his brilliant mind, had little sense of timing or diplomacy. Once he latched on to an idea, he ran at top speed with no thought for caution—like those bulls Miss Kapadia had alluded to. But then, he was in no position to judge Jeevan-kaka when he himself had behaved in exactly that fashion.

It was time for damage control.

“This is what I propose,” he started. “We approach the person who owns the wholesale grocery shop next door. From the looks of the storefront, it’s not a thriving business. I want to find out if he’s willing to sell his space to us. Jeevan-kaka tells me you currently own half of the building. If we can buy that man out, then we can join the two halves, essentially doubling its size and at the same time owning a larger, more desirable property.”

Mohan shook his head. “The township zoning department may not allow that kind of restructuring of what was originally a duplex home—two houses joined by a wall.”

“I’ll look into it. All we may have to do is apply for a permit to fuse the two parts. As it stands, it’s a single building made into two stores with a firewall in between.”

“That will be very expensive,” cautioned Usha.

“Don’t worry about funding, Auntie. That’s our problem—mine and Jeevan-kaka’s,” replied Rishi gently. “The advantage of owning both portions of the building is that we can refurbish both as one, modernize it, and make it attractive.”

Usha didn’t respond, but continued to frown.

“That run-down store next door is single-handedly decreasing the value of your property as well as your sales volume,” said Rishi, putting on his most convincing voice. “It’s common knowledge that an unsightly property brings down the value of everything around it. The very appearance of that store prevents customers from coming to yours.”

“We’re aware of that,” said Usha, telling Rishi that she was sensitive about the aesthetics of her business. “We’ve tried several times to get Mr. Tejmal to clean up his storefront, but he just doesn’t seem to care. So we’re stuck with him.”

“That’s why we need to buy him out. Then you can have a corner building with its own large parking lot and separate entrances from two different streets,” he explained. “Obviously parking is at a premium in this neighborhood. This will be perfect to house a trendy boutique with no ugly elements on either side to spoil its exclusive look.”

Mohan chewed his lower lip. “Sounds good in theory, but…”

“Go ahead, Uncle.” Rishi shifted and gave him a questioning look. “Tell us what’s on your mind.”

“Tejmal will not sell, Rishi. He has owned that store for years. He bought it when real estate here was cheap because the neighborhood was not very desirable. In fact, when I bought my half some years ago, Tejmal’s portion had already doubled in value. Now it’s worth even more. Why would he want to sell a hot property?”

“Precisely because it is hot property, Uncle. Real estate here peaked a while ago, then reached a plateau, and is now in decline. It’s the perfect time for him to sell.”

“How do you know all this?” Anjali spoke for the first time in several minutes, surprising Rishi. But she still looked somewhat dazed.

He turned his attention to her. “Research.”

Usha shook her head. “Still, Tejmal may not want to sell. That store is his life.”

A disdainful roar of laughter came from Jeevan. “Have you seen that man’s display window? It is full of dust and cobwebs—and one pane is cracked. Like Rishi says, it is making your classy store look cheap. He is ruining the quality of the entire neighborhood.” He pulled a face. “If he does not sell that place, or at least refurbish it, he is dead, I’m telling you.”

Anjali turned to her uncle, looking horrified. “You can’t mean that!”

“Why are you looking so shocked, Anju? I’m just stating a fact.”

“You’re not going to…threaten Mr. Tejmal’s life or…something, are you?”

In reply she got a blank look from Jeevan. “Why would I do that?”

Rishi suppressed his urge to laugh. Was this woman serious? Did she really think her uncle had the potential to terrorize or put a contract out on some harmless old shopkeeper? Jeevan was notorious for his strong-arm business tactics, but they didn’t extend to such outlandish practices. He winked at Jeevan. “I think Miss Kapadia’s been seeing too many Hindi movies.”

“That’s not true!” Anjali protested. “Jeevan-kaka can be…well, I was only wondering if…Never mind.” This time she did collapse onto the chair Rishi had pulled up earlier and her hands descended in her lap in a limp, hopeless gesture. “I’m tired of this whole affair.”

She did look tired, Rishi noticed. More than tired, she looked dejected. He felt a strong pang of sympathy for her, but the disciplined businessman in him dispelled the emotion. She appeared to be a woman who was obviously used to having her own way. Well, it was about time she learned a lesson or two.

Life was not always neat and uncomplicated. And it didn’t come in pure shades of black and white either. Owning and running a business definitely involved innumerable shades of gray—and the sooner she learned that, the better. Time for the fairy princess to emerge from her sheltered castle, he told himself.

But his gentler feelings of compassion still clouded the pragmatic ones.

Since there were no more chairs left, he shifted again and leaned against the wall. It was crowded with tacked-on lists of phone numbers, store ads, pizza shop coupons, and pictures of Indian outfits. This tiny office appeared to be Mohan’s domain, very different from the neat and organized shop floor run by the two women.

He directed his gaze toward Anjali. “I own successful boutiques in London, Delhi, Mumbai, Hong Kong, and Singapore, so I know what I’m talking about, Miss Kapadia. If you’ll just listen for a moment, I’ll tell you all about it.”

He heard no protests, so he continued. “The one-stop-shopping concept comprises taking what you already have here, an exclusive boutique, then adding to it a classy beauty salon, an on-site photo studio, event planning and decorating, floral design, and an upscale coffee shop that sells chai, gourmet coffees, pastries, a variety of snacks, et cetera. A shopping experience like that is entirely different from the other operations around here. Am I correct?” He looked for affirmation at Mohan Kapadia, who was still gnawing on his lower lip.

“Sounds risky,” Usha murmured and glanced at her husband, who nodded.

Just then the sound of the bell alerted them to the front door being opened. Someone had entered the store.

Anjali, who had sat like a statue all this time, sprang to her feet. “Wonder who it is. Everyone knows we’re closed on Mondays.” She immediately started striding out to the shop floor.

Rishi asked the older Kapadias to stay put. “I’ll go with her. You folks can talk to Jeevan-kaka for a bit.”

He followed Anjali out the office door. He needed a chance to talk to her privately, convince her that he wasn’t her enemy. She seemed to be the most seriously affected by his plans, and he didn’t want to upset her any more than he already had. He’d be working with her very closely for the foreseeable future and it would be difficult if she continued to regard him with such fear and distrust.

She zipped through the aisles, sure-footed and agile—confident in her own milieu. She walked with a sexy, catwalk kind of swagger. He wondered if she’d picked that up from the fashion models who showcased her clothes.

He knew Anjali’s designs well. He’d studied them since Jeevan-kaka had mentioned this unexpected trip to the U.S. He’d read everything on the store’s Web site, apparently designed by her young brother. With Jeevan-kaka’s input, Rishi had a good idea of their balance sheet, too.

Naturally the models were good looking, but he hadn’t known the creator of those delightful clothes was equally attractive. He had to admit that despite her defensiveness and underlying hostility, she was a pretty woman. He’d been surprised to hear she was thirty-seven. She looked much younger.

Jeevan-kaka had been singing her praises in the past, and more so during the last couple of days. The old fox was clearly trying to do some matchmaking between Rishi and his niece. He’d told him a few times how Anjali would make the perfect wife. Since Jeevan-kaka had a tendency to exaggerate and even fib at times to suit his purposes, Rishi hadn’t paid much attention to his bragging about how appealing and bright his niece was.

Well, this time the old man hadn’t lied or exaggerated.

The smooth fit of her slacks showed off a slim waist, gently curved hips, and shapely legs. She wasn’t tall, but she had a lithe, athletic body. About her being bright, he’d have to wait and see. So far he’d only seen one or two sides of her personality. He was an excellent judge of character, and if he’d guessed right, there were other, less prickly facets to her. He meant to discover them all—sooner or later.

It would be to his advantage to find out everything about Miss Kapadia.

His eyes went to the front door. A petite young woman stood near it, taking in the room with dark, curious eyes. Dressed in designer jeans, electric blue shirt, and high-heeled sandals nearly six inches high, she seemed to be a customer. He saw her turn to the approaching Anjali with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I know you’re closed today, but I thought I’d take a chance.”

“Not a problem,” Anjali replied.

“I was just driving by and everything in your window looked so beautiful,” said the young lady with a guilty grin and a shrug. “I couldn’t resist trying the door…and it was unlocked…”

Rishi decided to stay a few steps behind and observe. Although he couldn’t see Anjali’s smile, he could hear it in her voice. “That’s perfectly all right. You’re welcome to come inside and look.” She shook hands with the woman. “I’m Anjali Kapadia.”

The young lady’s eyes warmed up. “I’m Roopa Singh. You’re sure I’m not imposing on your day off?”

“Not at all. Customers are always welcome.”

“Thanks. That’s kind of you.” She let her gaze wander around the store for a moment. “I’m looking for bridal wear.”

Ah, newly engaged and eager to shop for a wedding trousseau, Rishi reflected with a sense of satisfaction. Excellent potential.

“You’re at the right place, then,” said Anjali. “I’ll show you where the bridal nook is.”

When she turned around and saw Rishi standing by the jewelry case, her smile immediately vanished. It was like a bright light had been put out.

“I thought I’d come out and help,” he said, explaining his presence. It wasn’t really important how Anjali reacted to him, but it did sting a little. She had every right to distrust him. Her uncle, who was known to be authoritarian, had swooped down on them and then foisted Rishi on them as an unexpected and unpleasant surprise. He’d seen it in both Anjali’s and her mother’s faces—the shock of seeing a stranger they hadn’t anticipated, their quick exchange of bewildered looks.

He’d immediately felt like an intruder. But he was planning on remedying that within the next day or two. He meant to find himself a hotel room as soon as he could convince Jeevan-kaka that as much as he was thrilled to be considered part of the Kapadia family, he didn’t belong in their cramped house.

Usurping Nilesh Kapadia’s room was beyond intrusion. He hadn’t even met the young man yet and the poor boy didn’t know his room had been casually offered to a stranger. Rishi’s main cause for discomfort was the Kapadia women, especially Anjali. She wasn’t unwelcoming as such, but there was that cool politeness that was like an invisible barrier.

Well, he was here strictly for business purposes, and if his future business partners didn’t like the fact or like him, that was their problem. And he wouldn’t have been here if Jeevan Kapadia hadn’t asked for his assistance. Rishi would do anything for the old man. He owed Jeevan a lot. Much more than a lot.

The two women disappeared amongst the bridal outfits and he followed them. He wanted to observe how Anjali Kapadia did business. He also needed to know the typical client that shopped at Silk & Sapphires if he was to make the upgrades meaningful. In fact, he considered it serendipitous that a promising customer had stopped in while he was here for his initial assessment.

This particular shopper appeared quite wealthy. The latest designer handbag and the fashionable sandals hadn’t escaped Rishi’s experienced eye; neither had the gleaming black German import parked right outside the door. He stepped forward and positioned himself practically next to Anjali. He didn’t want her to think he was a voyeur on top of everything else.

He introduced himself to the customer. “Hello. I’m Rishi Shah, an associate of Miss Kapadia’s,” he said, offering his hand to Ms. Singh.

Roopa Singh accepted his handshake and looked at both him and Anjali by turns. “So you two are like…uh…both owners of the store?”

Rishi knew it was his Caucasian looks and British accent combined with the Indian name that had the young lady mystified. She was probably wondering what a white-skinned Brit called Shah was doing in a business partnership with a purely Desi woman in New Jersey. It happened all the time when he and Jeevan-kaka introduced themselves as partners.

Nonetheless he smiled, trying to summon all the charm he could muster. “Yes, Miss Kapadia and I will be co-owners soon.”

Anjali glanced at him briefly before turning on the goodwill for the bride-to-be. “So, when is the wedding, Miss Singh?”

“Please call me Roopa. The wedding is set for a year from now. Mid June.”

“Beautiful and popular time of year for a wedding,” said Anjali. “All those roses and petunias in bloom—can’t beat that for outdoor photographs.”

“Exactly. And I’m a teacher, so I can have all summer off right after the wedding…for an extra-long honeymoon.” Roopa Singh dimpled prettily.

Anjali smiled. “Perfect timing, then.”

“I’m looking for something that’s kind of light and summery and yet Indian…you know…” Roopa made a helpless gesture with a dainty, manicured hand and Rishi noticed the diamond engagement ring, an impressive solitaire set in platinum—two carats or thereabout.

Anjali promptly brought out a writing pad and pen. “Okay, are you going to have a ceremonial Hindu wedding or…” She deliberately let that hang, Rishi realized, so the customer would tell her if her fiancé was Indian or of some other faith. Clever.

“Ajit and I want a nice East-West mix.” She looked longingly at the display Rishi had admired earlier. “I love that. Is it possible to have something along those lines?”

“No problem,” assured Anjali, already busy taking notes. “We can design something for both of you in coordination, and for anybody else in the bridal party, too. What color did you have in mind?”

“The usual red and gold for the ceremony, of course.” Roopa bit her lower lip in that cute way some women did when they were undecided or befuddled. She looked around at the racks and shook her head. “For the reception, I don’t know yet.” She turned to Anjali. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Anjali studied Roopa critically for a minute. Rishi could almost sense the wheels turning in her brain. “I think I know exactly what would look good. A rosy peach would be perfect…almost like apricot, only lighter.”

The customer looked skeptical. “You really think it would be a good color for me? I’m usually partial to blues and greens.”

“I’m positive.” Anjali nudged Roopa to one of the racks that held the more elaborate and glitzy salwar-kameez outfits. She pulled one down that was indeed a rare color.

Rishi thought light apricot sounded about right to describe it.

“This is the shade I’m talking about.” With a quick flick of her wrist Anjali plucked the chunni and draped it around the young lady’s neck, then turned her around to face the mirrored wall. “What do you think?”

Roopa Singh stared at herself for a moment, then turned this way and that several times. “I think I like it. A lot!”

“Looks great on you. It emphasizes your lovely complexion and brown eyes.” Anjali walked back a few steps and eyed the image for a second. “I could design something special for you in that color.”

“You can do that?”

“I’ve designed all the clothes in the store myself. They’re exclusively made for Silk & Sapphires.” She picked up her pad and pencil again. “Let me show you what I have in mind.” With a few bold strokes Anjali began to draw a simple yet elegant design.

Rishi watched her sketch, fascinated by the deft hand and the imagination. She was good at this design thing. Damn good.

Roopa looked at the picture and her eyes went wide with delight. “That’s cute! I love it.” She gave it a moment’s thought. “I think I want exactly that.”

“You’re sure you don’t need to discuss it with your fiancé…or your parents?” Anjali seemed to be throwing in the practical and cautionary hints.

Mentally Rishi approved of Anjali’s sales strategy. It was good to remind eager young shoppers of the costs involved. Wedding clothes were expensive and the bride’s parents were most likely paying for them.

But young Roopa shook her head. “Nah, my parents and Ajit want me to pick whatever I like. But Ajit will have to come in here himself and see what he wants in the groom-wear area.” She was already off and fingering other outfits.

Rishi moved to a portion of the wall where he could lean back and observe the transaction. His knee was beginning to ache again, and standing for long periods of time left it feeling worse. Having sat in a plane for hours earlier and with jet lag beginning to set in, he’d already put his leg under a lot of stress. Absently he bent his right leg, rested the heel flat against the wall, and rubbed the knee.

Nearly an hour later, the two young ladies had discussed bride and groom attire and Roopa had settled on her wedding and reception costumes, and they moved to the jewelry display area. Rishi once again casually sauntered to get closer to them.

When Anjali had Roopa convinced that rubies would go perfectly with the red ensemble while pink corals with pearl accents were the right jewelry to set off her reception outfit, the sale was more or less concluded.

Roopa Singh looked thoroughly pleased with herself. “It’s a good thing I walked in here on your day off. I got individualized service and everything just like I wanted,” she said with a smug grin. “I’ll bring Ajit here soon.”

“Excellent,” said Anjali. “We can design something for him that harmonizes perfectly with your ensembles.”

Roopa looked questioningly at Anjali. “Do you know any good salons around here that do hair and bridal makeup, mehndi and all that?”

“I can give you the names of several places around here,” Anjali replied.

Mehndi referred to the henna designs that women, especially brides, decorated their hands and feet with. It was traditional for brides in India, but now the West had discovered it and it was all the rage, especially with second-generation Indian-Brits and Indian-Americans. In London, Rishi had introduced a full-time mehndi artist in one of his stores, and she was kept busy.

That’s exactly what this place needs, he reflected, as he moved forward to join the two women. “Miss Singh, may I offer a suggestion?”

Roopa glanced at him. “Sure.”

Anjali threw him another distressed look. He ignored it and said to Roopa, “We plan to put a salon on the premises very soon. It will offer makeup, hairstyling, nails, mehndi, and just about everything a bride or a party guest would need. We’ll be adding on a full-service photo studio and printing options, wedding and party decorations, flowers. All our services will be first-class, just like the clothing and jewelry you just selected. You might want to wait a few weeks and stop by again?”

Roopa gave him an eager nod while she pulled out a checkbook from her handbag. “I can wait. That’ll be great—everything under one roof. It’s such a hassle going to ten different places to plan a wedding.”

Rishi turned his gaze on Anjali. I told you so. But all he got was a bland look. She wasn’t about to allow him his moment of triumph. He wished she’d loosen up a little.

Meanwhile Roopa cast a skeptical glance around the store. “Isn’t this place a bit small to include a salon and studio, though?”

Anjali tossed him a glance this time. I told you so.

“But we’re planning to expand soon,” Rishi said. “We’ll be taking over the space next door. The whole building will become one large boutique.” Privately he hoped he hadn’t counted his chickens even before they were eggs. Now he’d really have to work hard on Mr. Tejmal.

Perhaps sensing the undercurrent of dissension between Rishi and Anjali, Roopa looked speculatively first at one and then the other. “I’ll come back in the next couple of days with Ajit and maybe we can all discuss this some more.” She lifted a thin, tweezed eyebrow at Anjali. “How much deposit do you need for today?”

Rishi heard the amount Anjali quoted. With an inward smile he realized Anjali had just concluded a substantial sale to this rich young woman with a fat checkbook. Not bad for a day’s worth of business—and on a day they were supposed to be closed, too.

Earlier he had told himself he’d wait and see how bright Anjali Kapadia was. He was slowly beginning to recognize that Jeevan-kaka was right about her.

Anjali printed up an invoice on her computer. “I’m going to order the fabrics tomorrow and when they come in, I’d like you to see them…just to make sure that’s what you really want. If you approve, then I’ll have our best seamstress start work on it,” she said with a warm smile. “In the meantime, if you have any questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to call. Here’s my card.”

Roopa threw the card in her handbag. She studied the invoice and didn’t seem particularly concerned with the price of the items. It too went into the bag. Extending a hand to Anjali and then to Rishi, she said, “Thanks, you guys. I think your store is beautiful. With the expansion you mentioned, I think it’ll be fabulous.”

Rishi nodded. “Thanks. I hope you’ll recommend us to your friends?”

The young lady threw him a dimpled smile. “If everything goes perfectly, we’ll definitely recommend you to others.”

“Fair enough,” Rishi said, returning her smile.

Both Rishi and Anjali watched Roopa Singh walk out of the store, put on her sunglasses, and get behind the wheel of her car.

Rishi turned to Anjali. “You handled that beautifully. Jolly good work.”

“Just doing my job,” she murmured and strode to the front door. After making sure it was locked, she hurried directly back to the office in silence.

He saw the look of total defeat in her eyes, as if her world was coming apart and she was rapidly falling through the fissure.

Was he totally wrong in his calculations? In the end, would he end up hurting this woman instead of helping her and her family like he was supposed to?