Sandcastle Beach (Matchmaker Bay #3) - Jenny Holiday Page 0,47

a theater director, he asked me if I was doing Bollywood shows. Like, what? I mean, nothing against Bollywood. Bollywood’s great. But no, I’m not doing Bollywood shows.”

Really? People were that ignorant?

“I mean, you know, right?” Maya said to the girl. “That kind of stuff happens all the time. As for sexism, I don’t know about other industries, but I’m sorry to say it’s alive and well in the theater world. There are lots of women actors, but the other side—directing and production—is still very much an old boys’ club.” She whistled. “I could tell you some stories. But they’re not very family-friendly.”

What the hell? Law kind of wanted to hear those stories so he could find the culprits and…well, end them, basically.

“So what do you do?” the girl asked. “How do you handle it?”

“Well, honestly, that’s part of why I came home after college. It’s not that this town is magically free of prejudice, but I feel like more people here know me than don’t. They know my family. Here, when I get that crap, it’s mostly—not exclusively but mostly—from tourists. But really, the answer is I keep telling myself that I belong as much as anyone.” She shrugged. “It wears you down, but you just have to keep telling yourself that.”

Well, shit. It wasn’t like he didn’t know, intellectually, that he didn’t face the same barriers someone like Maya did. But to hear examples of it so casually brought up—Oh, here’s something that happened yesterday—was sobering.

“My question is for Maya, too,” said the next kid, another girl, this one younger than the first. “Is it true you got Holden Hampshire to come to town?”

“It’s true!” Maya threw her arms in the air excitedly, and a cheer worked its way through the room, even though Law would have assumed this crowd was too young to care about Holden Hampshire.

Law was subdued through most of the rest of the panel, answering questions directed at him but keeping quiet otherwise. He wanted to talk to Maya. He wasn’t sure about what, really, just that between this panel and their surprisingly open chat on the roof, he felt like they were starting to see each other—like really see each other. When she’d rolled her eyes at him when his dad got going on the history of Lawson’s Lager House, it had felt, for a moment, like she was the only person in the world who understood. He wanted to return the favor. He wasn’t sure how. Maybe bequeath her the contested parking spaces permanently?

After the panel was over, Law’s dad cornered him. “It’s been too long. Your mother misses you. Come for dinner soon.”

“Your mother misses you” was Law’s dad’s way of saying that he missed his son. Too bad his dad wasn’t a jerk. It would be easier to just throw the bar on the poker table and make his bets.

“Yeah, sorry, keeping the family legacy alive has kept me extra busy lately.” He’d been going for a joking tone but had fallen short, judging by the way his dad’s brow knit. Ah, shit. He really needed to talk to his parents. He just…didn’t want to.

“Hey, Benjamin, you still free to discuss next week’s theater talk? Oh, wait, I’m sorry. I’m interrupting.” It was Maya. “Interrupting” on purpose, because she somehow knew he was freaking out. He could kiss her.

Well, no. But he was grateful, was the point.

“Yes, of course,” he said. And to his dad: “Maya and I are running a boat ride/theater talk for a group from Whispering Pines on Monday. We were going to hammer out some of the details after this panel.”

“Which reminds me,” Maya said to her dad, “I’m going to have to bail on Monday dinner with you and Mom next week.” She kissed him on the cheek. “But I’ll see you at the Raspberry Festival?”

“Yes,” Mr. Mehta said. “Good luck with the pop star.”

Once they were outside the community center and walking up the sidewalk, Law said, “Thanks for the rescue.”

“No problem. I gather you haven’t told your parents about your restaurant ambitions.”

“I gather you haven’t told yours about your financial problems.”

“Touché.”

“Yeah, I haven’t told anyone but Sawyer and Jake. And you.”

She made a silly face at him. “Well, don’t forget you told your wood supplier, but I take your point. I haven’t told anyone but Eve and Nora. And you.”

Well. They were suddenly confidants. It was strangely gratifying. “I have to be done by five on Monday, so you can still make dinner