Page 21 of The Oligarch's Daughter

The Uber drove through a derelict area of old warehouses and pulled up in front of a graffiti-covered building.

Pasha, he thought as they stepped out of the car.I like it. “What’s the nickname for Tatyana?”

“Tanya.”

“I think I like ‘Tatyana’ better. How ’bout you?”

She smiled.

The restaurant was hip and funky, the kind of place people like to post pics of on Instagram. Fortunately, Tatyana didn’t do that. Her Insta feed, which she’d just started, was all art photography. No food.

The place was loud, voices bouncing off the white subway tiles, and Paul found it hard to hear her. They both had saffron martinis.

“You see Grandpa over there?” she said and pointed with her chin.

Paul turned and saw, amid all the hipsters, a very old man at a table with what looked like his family. Maybe he was Iranian.

“Yeah?”

It was so loud, she leaned in close, which was nice. “I’d like to shoot him. He has an interesting face. There’s something uneasy about it, about him. Do you see it?”

Paul shrugged. “So you like ‘the olds’?”

She grinned. “I do, it’s true. But only the ones with interesting faces. They don’t all have interesting faces. But mybabushka—my grandmother—nowshehad a face!”

“So what’d you find today?”

“Oh, a guy covered in tattoos, even his face. A kid on a fire escape.”

“Who are your favorites?”

“Favorites?”

“Photographers, I mean.”

“Oh, boy, so many!”

“Name one.”

“August Sander. From the nineteen twenties and thirties. In terms of photographers working today, Katy Grannan.”

“Sorry, I don’t know her.”

“She’s amazing. And of course, Robert Frank was a god. There’s a reason Bruce Springsteen looks at Robert Frank photographs to get song ideas.”

“How do you know when you make it?”

“Make it?”

“As a photographer, I mean.”

She heaved a sigh, shook her head. Her lip curled. “It’s like a tree falling in the woods.”

“How so?”

“You can be a great photographer, you can do original stuff, but no one notices unless, you know, theNew York TimesorARTNewsdecides you’re good.”

They ordered charcoal-grilled kebabs with tamarind squid ink sauce, crisp octopus tentacles in garlic chili and tahini, and caramelized trumpet mushroom kebabs over coconut-creamed lentils.

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