His face finally fell. He glanced away, toward the living room. There was definitely something he wasn’t telling Marley. “Nikhil, what’s wrong?”
He sighed as he looked back at her. “I was going to wait until you heard it from your store, but yeah—something happened in LA yesterday.”
Marley squeezed her fist. What could have happened that had anything to do with her? Maybe… the studio hated the clothes she picked?
Nikhil ran his hand through his hair. “It’s… the junket. I didn’t tell you the other night, but it didn’t go so well. Worse than the Toronto one, actually. There was this sci-fi outlet that was terrible to me and Serena. And… I kind of lost it on the interviewer. It screwed up my whole day… I couldn’t get my mojo back.” He exhaled. “I wish you had been with me like at the Toronto one.”
Ugh. Poor Nikhil. He didn’t have to say—she had a goodidea what kinds of things this sci-fi platform said to him. “Why do they keep putting you in these situations? Your publicist should have stopped them. This isn’t your fault—it’s theirs.”
He nodded. “Yes. That’s exactly what Esther, my agent, said. She ripped the studio execs a new one in the meeting yesterday. She said none of this pre-production promo was in my contract, and all the pressure they’re putting on me was affecting my mental health. She shut it all down.”
“Good agent.”
He nodded. “Esther’s the best. And she’s right. The fanboys accepting me or not isn’t on me at all. Thestudiohired me. They should deal with the fallout—not me. But the studio is making it seem like my messy hair, my unstylish clothes, or me not being pleasant when I get microaggression after micro-aggression is going to make this movie flop.”
It was blatantly unfair. Marley could name countless hot, young actors who could get away with being eccentric, or surly, or whatever. And no one ever said the movie was a failure because of them, did they?
And itwasaffecting his mental health. Marley knew him well enough that when he closed off like that… when he seemed grumpy, it was because his anxiety was spiking. His confidence was going to complete hell. That wasn’t really him.
She didn’t know how to tell him that he was enough just the way he was. Without the team telling him what to be, and what to wear, or how to dress. Anyone who didn’t see that the real Nikhil Shamdasani was a million times better than Nik Sharma was so incredibly wrong.
“I’m glad your agent has your back.”
Nikhil took a deep breath. “She fired them. All of them. Starting with Lydia. No more pre-production promotion. Nomore press tour or handlers, media trainers, or anything until the normal publicity cycle at release. She said it was either that or she would make sure the media knew exactly how much pressure the studio was putting on the only POC main cast member.”
Marley exhaled. “Wow.”
He nodded. He didn’t look relieved, though. “You were on that list. You’re not my stylist anymore. The studio won’t be working with Reid’s.”
Marley blinked. Shit. That was… not good. This job was supposed to be her ticket straight to personal shopping.
Nikhil sighed, then stood up. “Let me clean up dinner, then let’s sit in the living room so you can be comfortable.”
Marley agreed. But after he put away their empty dishes, Marley didn’t go back to her recliner and instead sat on the sofa to be closer to him. She was so damn tired of that recliner.
He turned to look at her once they were both sitting. “Hiring you to style me was the best thing they did for me. You’re the only one on that team who knows me… wholistensto me. Esther is right—the whole team trying to make me into this perfect movie star was messing me up. You saw… I was a basket case when we met. I can’t let the studio make these demands on me. But I can keep you as my personal stylist… just not through the studio.”
Marley shook her head. While a movie star was a great client for Reid’s to get in personal shopping, amovie studiowas a much, much bigger prize. Jacqueline had been hoping to get connected with the costuming department. She was hoping they’d send more stars Reid’s way. Marley agreed getting rid of the handlers was good for Nikhil, but it meant Marley wasback to square one with her goal of getting that personal shopper role. “Jacqueline’s going to be so mad.”
“Marley, I am so, so sorry. I’ll tell them I still want to work with you. Or make them give you a reference or tell them to bring you another client instead.”
She shrugged. Or she at least tried to shrug. She may have been having a better day pain- and mobilitywise, but she wasn’t quite there yet. “It’s fine. I don’t even know if one client was going to get me that job, anyway. And I still have a month before I go back to work. When I get back, I’ll find another way to wow Jacqueline. Your mental health is more important. This is very good for you, Nikhil. You didn’twantall those people turning you into someone you’re not. Youhatedit.”
He didn’t say anything for several long moments. Just looked at her. Finally, he whispered, “Yeah, but Iwantedyou.”
Marley smiled. It was funny—she’d known him for years. Hell, she’d had sex with the man twice (well, actually more than twice, but on two nights), but she didn’t really feel like sheknewNikhil until they’d lived together for the last two weeks. He was incredibly caring and considerate. He was loyal to his family and determined to stand by them while they were in crisis, even though he didn’t know if he was helping. He was a great cook but couldn’t make a decent cup of tea if his life depended on it. He’d tried to make her ginger tea several times, and he always forgot to put the heat down after adding the milk, which caused it to boil over and make a mess. But he always cleaned the mess without complaining. He was distractable but also capable of hyperfocus. And he was scared. His whole life was changing, and he was terrified that at the end of the transformation, he wouldn’t recognize himself.
Marley remembered looking in the mirror at the plastic surgeon’s office today. She’d been afraid that she wouldn’t recognize herself. That the trauma her body had been through would make it feel like a different person was looking back at her. And yes, shewasdifferent. Her breasts weren’t really hers anymore. She no longer had nipples. But she was stillher. Just a new her. Marley had no idea if this acceptance… thispeaceshe’d made with her body would have happened without Nikhil here supporting her for the last two weeks. But she knew that she had to support him through his transformation, too. If not in a professional capacity, then definitely in a personal one.
She took his hand in hers. “Youhaveme. I’m not going anywhere, Nikhil. Partially because I can’t walk very fast right now, but mostly because Iwantto help you. I meant it—stay here until the shooting starts. I’ll pick your clothes, give you moral support, whatever you need. Stay even after shooting starts if you need to. No strings attached.”
He didn’t say anything for a while. She had no idea what he was thinking. Was she making this weird? Maybe she shouldn’t have held his hand. He finally spoke. “But… I feel like I’ve screwed everything up for you. If you help me now, it will be for no reason.”
“Did you forgetyou’rethe one helpingmehere? I wouldn’t have gotten through the last two weeks without you.”
If he wasn’t a client, the strict professional boundary wasn’t needed anymore. But maybe she should keep the boundary up. No matter how attracted to him she was, it was probably a bad idea to act on it. Physically, because she could barely move right now, but also—a relationship with aliteral movie starwould be hell for a private person like Marley. AndNikhil was going through a lot, too. They were both leaning on the other while dealing with the hardest thing they’d ever gone through.
Maybe these feelings weren’t real. Florence Nightingale effect—that was it.
