Chapter 7 - MEERA SAYS NO
Roman waited four months before asking Meera to dinner.
He did not show up at her apartment.
Did not send a driver.
Did not ask Evan first.
He texted.
Would you have dinner with me?
Meera read it while sitting at her kitchen table paying a utility bill.
She thought for six minutes.
Then replied:
No.
Roman’s response:
Understood.
Nothing else.
That mattered more than flowers would have.
Three months later, Meera called him.
Not because he persisted.
Because he didn’t.
“Still know restaurants?”
“I own two.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“I know cheaper ones.”
“Public.”
“Yes.”
“No bodyguards at the table.”
“One across the street.”
She sighed.
“Fine.”
First date.
Roman wore a jacket that probably cost more than Meera’s monthly rent.
She told him.
He said:
“That seems rude.”
“The jacket?”
“The price.”
She laughed.
They talked about Evan.
Then Meera stopped.
“No.”
“What?”
“I don’t want our first date to be about my son saving your life.”
Roman nodded.
“Agreed.”
So they talked about other things.
Meera loved old mystery novels.
Roman hated musicals.
She had wanted to study accounting before pregnancy changed plans.
Roman had once wanted to be an architect before his father handed him a casino and an organization he was too young to question.
“You could have said no.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Power was easier than disappointing him.”
Meera looked at him.
“At least you know.”
At the end of dinner:
“Can I kiss you?”
She considered.
“No.”
Roman nodded.
“Good night.”
Two dates later:
Still no.
Fourth date:
“Yes.”
Slow.
Meera kept her apartment.
Her job.
Her money.
Roman did not pay for Evan’s school.
Did not create a trust.
Did not buy them a house.
Once he offered to cover a summer robotics camp after Meera mentioned the cost.
She stared.
He corrected:
“Bad idea.”
“Very.”
Evan eventually attended after winning partial scholarship and Meera paying the remainder.
Roman sent him one gift.
A book about skyscraper engineering.
Price:
Twenty-two dollars.
May you like
Meera approved.
Growth.
