Financial projections.
Operating budgets.
Nothing I understood at first glance.
“The Meridian cannot survive as a traditional theater,” he said.
“That sounds like the beginning of a sentence my mother would hate.”
“Probably.”
“What’s the rest?”
“We are converting the upper floors into event and rehearsal spaces. The theater stays. The community rooms stay. We add conference facilities, private rentals, and commercial space on the western side.”
“Commercial meaning?”
“Two restaurants. Offices. Possibly a hotel partner later.”
I stared at him.
“So your plan is to save the neighborhood theater by turning part of it into something the neighborhood can’t afford?”
“That is one interpretation.”
“It’s mine.”
“I gathered.”
Mara sat back.
Harlan pulled out a chair.
He did not sit behind the desk.
He sat across from me.
“The alternative is permanent subsidy,” he said. “Which means the building remains dependent on the Voss family or another donor deciding every year that it deserves to exist.”
