Nikhil squeezed his lips together. Or half his lips, at least. This was a mistake.Hewas the movie star here… or soon-to-be movie star.Hewas the one who’d fired five stylists. He should have the upper hand. But it had somehow slipped his mind that he wouldneverhave the upper hand with Mahreen Kamal. That look… she had all the power over him. She always had.
“We’ll be in the fitting room.” Mahreen smiled, then took Nikhil’s hand in hers. Smooth and soft. Long, slender fingers. Perfect round nails almost the same brown as her skin. She guided him to a smaller room and dropped his hand immediately. It had been a decade, but she clearly hadn’t forgiven him.
This room had a desk with a computer terminal on one side and a massive three-way mirror with a shiny little white platform in front of it. There was also a pink privacy screen in the corner. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as Mahreen closed the door.
She stepped in front of him. “Nikhil, you could havecalledme instead of doing this your-people-call-my-people thing,” she said, irritated.
In the small room, he could smell her perfume. Lightly citrusy. Floral.Expensive.He didn’t know what to say, so he said something ridiculous. “The studio asked me to take a stage name.”
Her gaze flicked upward in exasperation before focusing on him. “Do you wantmeto call youNik?”
The shortened… Anglicized version of his name coming out of Mahreen’s lips didn’t sound right. He shrugged. “No, I really don’t. I just thought… Am I supposed to call youMarley?”
She nodded curtly with her arms crossed over her chest.Nikhil tried very hard not to peek at the enhanced cleavage that presented. “Yes, please do. May I ask why youinsistedon me as your stylist?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s complicated. Everything happened so fast, and Lydia’s big on secrecy.”
“Her NDA gave that away. I’m not going to have sex with you.”
Wait… was that even an option? “What?”
“If you asked for me to style you because you want to have sex with me, then you may as well walk right out the door, because that isn’t going to happen. Reid’s doesn’t tolerate sexual harassment of the sales staff.”
“Why do you think I’m here because I want to have sex with you?”
Her lips pursed. “Maybe you’re looking for a stylist with benefits. And with our history… Did you forget about prom night?”
“I don’t think anyone has forgotten their prom night. It’s an important life event, right?” He cringed the moment the words were out. That was definitely the wrong thing to say. Maybe he should apologize for the past? Would it make a difference after so many years?
She glared at him. This was definitely a mistake. But the truth was, hewasn’there because he wanted to sleep with her again. Hell, he wasn’t even here to make amends for getting scared and avoiding her after they hooked up on prom night. He was here because he wanted Mahreen to be his savior… only, she didn’t want to save him.
Nikhil took a deep breath. “I’ve had five wardrobe stylists, three personal trainers, two hairstylists, and three dentists in the last two weeks,” he said.
“I know. Your handler told me.”
“Lydia is really more my babysitter than my handler. The studio flew her in from LA—she’s like a Hollywood bad-publicity fixer. They only bring her out for the difficult cases. Apparently, I’m not… adapting well.” He ran his hand over his hair, shoulders slumping. “I’m high-maintenance. Difficult. But all those people talk about me like I’m not even there. They see what they can turn me into, not who I am.” He shook his head. He shouldn’t be saying this. He didn’t need to be unloading all this baggage on hisstylist.
He looked down. “They want to chemically straighten my hair, fix my tooth, and tell me what to wear even when I’m not on set or promoting the movie. I’ve been working out with a buddy in LA since I got this role, but as soon as I got to Toronto they hired all these boot-camp-style trainers who clearly think I’ve been wasting my time. Things are intense for me right now, and it’s going to get worse. I saw you worked here, and I wanted at least one friendly face on my team. Someone who’ll make sure I’m stillmeafter this movie star transition.”
Nikhil looked up to see Mahreen—Marley—staring at him. All of him. From his Brown dad sandals to his shoulder-length hair falling out of the hair tie he’d twisted around his man bun in the morning. What was she seeing? The new Bronze Shadow body (he wasn’t quite there yet, but he was leaps and bounds buffer than he’d been in high school)? The old thrift store clothes?
The crisis of confidence? The crippling impostor syndrome?
It felt like her eyes bored into Nik Sharma, soon-to-be international superhero, straight through to Nikhil Shamdasani, one of a handful of desi kids in their suburban high school. The guy who’d convinced her to go to prom with him,who’dsleptwith her at the after-party, then never spoke to her again. Why did he ever think Mahreen Kamal would give him the time of day?
She shook her head, expression still unreadable. What was he doing, pouring his heart out toMahreen, anyway?
“Your family must be proud of you,” she said suddenly. “This is quite a role.”
He exhaled, looking down. Hethoughthis family was proud. But that was also complicated. “I’m sorry to blindside you like this. I understand if you don’t want to work with me… because of our history… but… it’s great to see you. I mean, you look amazing, which you always did. I’ll go.” He headed toward the door.
“Wait. Nikhil.”
He turned back to look at her. Mahreen had always been posh. Sophisticated. Worldly. He’d never thought she was snobby, although he knew others saw her that way. She was just… reserved. Until she wasn’t.
“I’m going through some stuff right now,” she said. “Here at work, and… personally.” He knew she wouldn’t tell him what she was going through. She hadn’t told anyone her problems back in high school, either. Except him. “But I can help you. I’ll be there for you for that first event Lydia talked about—”
“Comicon and the press junket afterward.”
