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