“Tell me something, Maggie.”
“What?”
“Why the Starlight?”
She considered.
“Because it's beautiful.”
“New York is full of beautiful buildings.”
“Not like that one.”
“What's different?”
She looked toward the city.
“My father worked there.”
Nicholas listened.
“He was a projectionist. I practically grew up in that theater.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She smiled faintly.
“I spent my childhood in the projection booth, watching the light hit the screen. My father used to tell me that every building had a story, but some were lucky enough to hold a thousand of them.”
Nicholas looked at her.
“That sounds like something my mother might have said.”
Maggie turned.
“Your mother?”
“She loved old theaters.”
“Does she still?”
His expression changed.
“She died fourteen years ago.”
Maggie's smile faded.
“I'm sorry.”
“Thank you.”
He looked out toward the skyline.
“She used to take me to the movies on Saturday afternoons. Usually places my father considered unsuitable.”
Maggie laughed softly.
“Why unsuitable?”
“Too old. Too noisy. Too far downtown. Not respectable enough.”
“Sounds like she had good taste.”
“She did.”
He smiled faintly.
“She would have liked you.”
The remark took Maggie by surprise.
Nicholas appeared to realize how personal it sounded.
He cleared his throat.
“I mean, she would have liked the way you talk about buildings.”
Maggie's cheeks warmed.
“Of course.”
A small silence followed.
Then Nicholas said, “Would you like to see the Starlight tomorrow?”
She stared at him.
“Tomorrow?”
“I can arrange access.”
“I already have access.”
“Then perhaps you'd allow me to come along.”
She looked suspicious.
“Are you asking for a tour?”
“Yes.”
“Of the building your company owns?”
“Apparently I need one.”
Maggie considered him.
“Will you actually listen?”
“I'll try.”
“Even if I tell you your redevelopment plans are terrible?”
“Especially then.”
She smiled.
“All right.”
“Ten o'clock?”
“Make it nine.”
He laughed.
“Of course.”
Maggie turned toward the doors.
“I should go.”
“I can arrange a car.”
“No, thank you.”
“It's late.”
“I've lived in New York my entire life, Mr. Sterling. I know how to find a taxi.”
“Nick.”
She looked back.
“What?”
“My name is Nick.”