“We don’t have to end up here every time we try to talk,” Shobi said quietly. It was her pretending-to-be-nonconfrontational voice.

Ashna rolled her eyes. “You just threatened to sell my work. How can we not end up here?”

“Okay, that was a . . . how do you young people say it? Something to do with acting like a penis?” Shobi didn’t blush at the use of the word or show any awkwardness, but something told Ashna that it took effort. How had Ashna never seen how hard her mother worked to never come across as silly, to always be taken seriously?

“Dick move,” she said. “We call it a dick move, and yes it was.” All Shobi’s moves were.

This was the first time ever that Shobi was owning up to one of them.

Ashna braced herself for the inevitable deeply impassioned lecture about a woman with agency being labeled with such a masculine insult.

Instead, another inscrutable silence followed. “I really want a chance, beta.” Ashna had no idea what that meant. “Can we at least make a deal?”

Another wave of exhaustion swept through Ashna. The first part of what Shobi had said danced enticingly in front of her, but she knew Shobi well enough to know the second part was key. “What kind of deal would you like to make?”

Shobi got up and took her cup to the sink. She didn’t wash it, but she did place it inside the sink. “How about this: If you win this show, I’ll admit you were right. I’ll sign over ownership of Curried Dreams. I’ll even help you with money to renovate it. But if this show doesn’t go the way you want it to, we sell the restaurant, and you find something you really . . . well, we sell it.”

Ashna reached for anger, her trusty shield from Shobi. She ached to tell her she would never let her sell Curried Dreams—win or lose. But she didn’t want to admit that there was a possibility that she wouldn’t win. Perversely enough, something inside her wanted to see Shobi rejoice at her failure. To see Shobi destroy Curried Dreams, something Shobi hated and Ashna could never hate. A vicious part of her wanted to put Shobi in a position where she definitively demonstrated the selfishness and cruelty she was capable of.

As was their norm, the conversation was at a point where all Ashna wanted was for it to end.

“Okay,” she said, not bothering to hide her exhaustion.

“There’s one more thing I want,” Shobi said.

Of course there was.

“I can’t wait to hear what it is,” Ashna said drily.

Shobi smiled; there was even a hint of pride in it. How messed up were they? “I want to stay here with you for the duration of our deal. Until the show is done.”

Unbelievable! How did Shobi always, always find a way to defeat her?