It was fun to watch Aydin’s face turn to stone. His eyes bored into mine. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he said, jaw clenched.
“You’re an experienced restaurateur. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” I resisted the urge to bat my lashes at him. I was enjoying myself, I realized. Teasing Stone Aydin was turning out to be the highlight of my day. “If you need any advice, feel free to talk to my mom. She’s been running Three Sisters on her own for fifteen years.”
“Your mom is an inspiration to entrepreneurs everywhere,” Zulfa gushed.
“I thought we were here to plan the street festival,” Aydin said tightly.
Zulfa straightened, her tone businesslike once more. “You’re right. We don’t have a lot of time and there is a lot to get done. Aside from food and merchandise, what makes the Golden Crescent street festival different from any other festival in the city?” she asked me and Rashid.
I looked at Rashid, impressed by Zulfa’s immediate insight. “We’re a local event, meant for people in the Golden Crescent. We’re hoping to attract a bigger crowd this year, considering the dire situation both of our restaurants are facing.” I nodded at Aydin.
“Wholistic Grill is doing just fine,” he said.
“There’s no shame in struggle,” I said. “Running a restaurant is a really complicated process, with plenty of unexpected traps.”
Aydin caught my gaze and held it. “This trap wasn’t unexpected,” he said softly. The low menace in his voice caused a delighted shiver to run down my spine. He suspected I had something to do with the online rumours, but he had no proof. I bet it was driving him crazy.
Rashid looked from me to Aydin. “When my parents had trouble with their major competitors, the Patel Accountancy Collective, they solved the problem by agreeing to each carve out their own territory. Less profit for both, but also less bloodshed.” He paused. “Metaphorical bloodshed, of course. Accountants always wish to stay out of the red.”
Aydin and I both stared at my cousin. Zulfa brought the conversation back to the topic at hand and asked if we had confirmed participation of the other businesses on the street. Rashid said he had already spoken to them, showing excellent initiative.
Zulfa nodded and made a note on her iPad before turning back to me. “I saw the flyers for the festival and the Facebook event page Rashid set up. Great work, but you need more. Have you thought about taking out a full-page advertisement in the community newspaper? What about reaching out to the Hindu mandir and the Orthodoxchurch to advertise? Or local radio announcements—can you arrange for a discount on air time at your work, Hana?”
I nodded slowly. “I can ask,” I said, impressed. Zulfa knew what she was doing. No wonder Wholistic Grill was flourishing under her public relations guidance.
“People love to support local events. If we can tie the festival to some sort of fundraising drive, that would be even better. You want to empower your attendees and vendors, make them feel they are building community and contributing to an important cause.”
“My friend Yusuf is active in a local charity that helps homeless and runaway youth,” I said. “There’s also a medical clinic for refugees he helps run, and they can always use funds.”
“Yusuf is a saint,” Aydin said, looking at the ceiling. “What a catch.”
“Ullu,” Rashid muttered.
I ignored them.
“If we want to brand, we could turn this into a halal food festival,” Zulfa suggested, thoughtful. “In the United States, halal food is a twenty-billion-dollar business, and worldwide it’s worth seven hundred billion.”
“I don’t think we should label it a halal food festival,” I said after turning the idea over in my mind. “We have businesses on Golden Crescent that cater to a variety of people, not just those who eat halal meat.”
Zulfa made a note on her tablet. “What about corporate partners or sponsorship?” she asked. “Most of my contacts are in Vancouver, but let me see if I can find local resources.”
Aydin broke in. “Most festivals have live entertainment. My friend Abas will be in town that week. He’s part of a bhangra dance troupe called Desi Beat. We could book them.”
I blinked in surprise. It was a good suggestion, and here I had assumed he had shown up to intimidate me.
Zulfa looked at my cousin. He had a dreamy expression on his face, hand cupping his chin as he stared at her. “Anything you want to add, Rashid?” she asked.
“With your brains and my looks, our children will be beautiful geniuses. Will you consent to be my wife?” he said.
Zulfa laughed, shaking her head. “No. But can you show me the baseball diamond? I want to see if the park is big enough to accommodate other performers. Live entertainment is always a big draw.” She threw me a quick smile as she left, Rashid trailing after her like a besotted puppy.
Aydin and I were alone. An awkward silence descended.
“Zulfa is really good at her job, very competent,” I said.
“Don’t dodge the subject, Hana. I know what you’ve been doing online,” he said abruptly.
I made my eyes wide. “Are you a fan of RPG gaming too? We have so much in common! Let me guess—your avatar is an ugly, stupid troll.”
