“You can stay in the coach house, Mr. Ethan. It’s not as fancy as your current accommodations, but it’s right on our property, and you’ll have all the privacy you need.”
“You told me the coach house wasn’t an option,” Priya pointed out, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. She’d brought up the coach house when she started planning her move back, hoping for some privacy and space, but her parents had shot her down right away. And now they were rolling out the welcome mat for Ethan?
“The coach house hasn’t been used in years, and we have a perfectly fine three-bedroom apartment,” Puppa replied, before turning back to Ethan. “Itdoesneed a little work, but once that’s sorted, it’s a wonderful little space. Bright, cozy, and self-contained. I think you’ll really like it.”
“Sounds perfect,” Ethan said. “But only if you let me pay my share.”
“Mr. Ethan, it would be a privilege to have you as our guest while you’re here.”
“Privilege won’t pay for a new electrical system, Mr. Solanki,” Ethan joked lightly. “And since I plan on staying for a month, I suggest we arrive at a figure that’s mutually beneficial.”
Puppa’s eyes lit up. Bargaining and negotiation coursed through his Gujarati veins. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much are you paying for the hotel?” His tone carried a polite innocence that Priya instantly recognized as the opening act to a full-on haggling session.
After learning the amount, Puppa reached for a pen and paper and started crunching numbers. The final figure seemed to please him, but as he shared it with Ethan, his lips pursed in contemplation.
“Something wrong?” Ethan asked.
Puppa scratched his chin.
Priya cringed, recognizing her father’s telltale gesture. He was gearing up to play hardball with Hollywood’s resident heartthrob.
“Let’s make it U.S. dollars. Cash,” he declared, raising both hands in the air as if sealing the deal.
“But I’m paying Canadian at the hotel,” Ethan countered.
“But I am charging you half their rate,andI will include your meals.”
“You’re throwing in the fritters?”
“Arey, forget the fritters. All-inclusive. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Theplas, muthiyas, samosas, fafdas, pendas, ganthias…You name it.”
“Now we’re talking!” Brooke grinned. “I might cancel my flight and move in too.”
“Perfect,” Priya muttered. “I’ve been back for five minutes, and suddenly we’re running a boardinghouse.”
“Priya!” Mumma shot her a warning look.
Ethan chuckled. “So, what’s the going rate for renting a funeral home?”
Puppa froze, realizing he had forgotten the larger number. Laxmi, the goddess of wealth, was showering him with money in crisp green U.S. bills.
“I will have to look at the books and let you know,” he replied.
“You’re not going to overcharge me, are you, Mr. Solanki?” A glimmer danced in Ethan’s eyes.
“Overcharge? Never. There is no overcharging at Moksha. Only creative pricing. You’ll get the finest deal, I promise.”
“In that case…” Ethan lifted his glass. “Here’s to Moksha.”
“And to your next movie.” Puppa raised his glass too.
“Cheers.” Mumma and Brooke joined in.
Priya had no doubt that Ethan’s offer felt like divine intervention to her parents, a miracle sent to save Moksha at its darkest hour. But accepting Ethan’s offer was nothing more than a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. Her parents would spend the money onrenovations, leaving them in the same difficult position next time something else needed fixing. The cycle of debt and struggle would never end. Selling Moksha wasn’t just the smarter option; it was the only real solution. If her father wouldn’t see reason, she would have to take matters into her own hands.
Priya’s gaze settled on Ethan. Beneath the infuriatingly perfect jawline and dreamy eyes was the root of all their troubles. Priya had to get rid of him before the offer for Moksha expired.
As the lights buzzed overhead again, a plan began to form in her mind. She lifted her glass in a private toast to her mission—to remove Ethan Knight from their lives and send him packing to Tinseltown as quickly as possible.
