So, his haters didn’t hate him because he was Brown but because he was inexperienced and unlikable.
“He’s an actor!” Esther said. “They do get that he’ll beactingin the movie, don’t they?”
“Of course,” Lydia said.
“The pictures we leaked of him and Serena did well, so what we’re proposing—”
“Releasing those pictures without warning was beyond the pale,” Esther interrupted. “You knew the tabloids would assume they were in a relationship.”
Nikhil really didn’t want this to turn into an argument. “So what do you want me to do?”
Carmen smiled. “We’re proposing we make it official while you’re there. You’re from Toronto, and Serena lives in LA. Makes sense that she would show you around, right? Hold hands in Long Beach or on Rodeo Drive. We’re even thinking a trip to Disneyland. Nothing is better for your image than being seen with your girlfriend at the happiest place on earth.”
“Serena is not my girlfriend, and I’ve lived in LA for years.”
“We’ve spun you as a Toronto native,” Kaelyn said.
“Is Serena Vox on board with this fake relationship?” Esther asked.
“Yes,” Carmen said. “We’ve been on the line with her agent today. She’s willing to sign a standard relationship contract… ending after the film wraps principal photography. This will be great for the movie. People will want to see the chemistry between the leads if they were in a relationship during shooting.”
“Fake relationship,” Nikhil said. “You said standard relationship contract, but it would be fake, right?”
“Of course,” Harlan said. “We do this all the time.”
A relationship, fake or not, with Serena Vox was the fantasy of pretty much every heterosexual—or hell, bisexual—man on this continent. But… what about his parents? Would they betold the truth? Would this make Mom happy? Would she start analyzing what color sari Serena should wear for the wedding? Would Nalini think Serena Vox was going to be her bhabhi?
And what about Marley? There was nothing going on between Nikhil and his stylist. There likely never would be anything between them. But it was also true that Nikhil was in so deep with her that he couldn’t think straight when he was around her. And he was around her all the time since they were living together.
A relationship with someone else wasn’t cheating on Marley, because he wasn’t in a relationship with Marley. A fake relationship with someone else was even less like cheating. But it still felt so wrong to him.
“Do I have to say yes to this, Esther?”
“Of course not,” Esther said. “We can talk privately, but I will say that I’m not a fan of these relationship contracts, especially for the lower-profile partner. It’s true that it would be great publicity for the movie, but if things go upside down, your reputation will take a bigger hit than hers. Don’t worry, though—I’ll negotiate the terms of this and any agreement on your behalf. I’ll make sure it’s worth your while. But it’s your decision.”
“Then no,” Nikhil said. “I am not interested in a relationship, real or fake, with Serena Vox.” It was too complicated. With his family, with Marley—hell, withhimself. “I’ll act in your film and do everything I can to promote it, but my personal life is not up for negotiation.”
Harlan looked at him for several long seconds. “Okay. If that’s what you want. Would you at least be open to some more pictures with Serena in LA… not as a couple but just friends? I think that would be useful, too.”
“Sure, that’s fine.” Maybe he and Serena could actuallybefriends. It would certainly make this whole movie easier.
But Nikhil could not be in a relationship with her, even if it was fake. Not when he wasobsessedwith someone else.
That night when Nikhil got home, Marley was in her normal spot on the recliner talking on the phone. He waved to her, and she nodded but didn’t stop talking. Well, not really talking. More like… nodding and saying yes a lot. Must be her mom. He went upstairs to his room to change.
After he pulled on some sweats, his phone buzzed.
Marley:Sorry. I’m off the phone. You can come down now.
When Nikhil went back downstairs, Marley looked sad. He almost asked her how she was feeling, but he realized that that was almost the only thing he ever asked her.
He sat next to her on the sofa and turned to smile at her. “Dinner?”
She nodded. “I wish I could go out. There’s this pasta place on College… or… I dunno.” Her eyes glazed over a bit. “Spanish tapas. Maybe a tasting menu. Hell, at this point I’d be happy with Swiss Chalet.”
“We can get takeout?” He loved Swiss Chalet, a chain of rotisserie-chicken restaurants that reminded him of his childhood. He couldn’t eat it now—but he would order it for her if it would pull her out of this funk.
“No. Takeout isn’t the same. I want to be sitting in anuncomfortable restaurant chair. Having a cocktail, then maybe a nice glass of wine. I want to lean over my table and take a bite from my date’s plate.”
