“This industry is a fickle bitch. It wouldn’t be the end of your entire career, though. I could get you streaming episodic work right away. Especially now that you’re a style god.”
As the sidekick. The funny friend. The co-worker.
Not the lover. Not the leading man.
“All right, Esther. Let’s hear what they say tomorrow.”
“You got this, Nicky. And remember: don’t say a word till you have me on the phone.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Marley
Marley thought long and hard and decided she would stay here on this recliner with her cat on her lap for the rest of her life. Doing anything else—showering, her exercises, or God forbid, leaving the house again—was out of the question. Not when she couldn’t even see her damn surgeon without someone snapping a picture of her. Thankfully, there was a glass of water nearby because she had no doubt that she would have otherwise passed out from dehydration with how many tears she’d shed.
She’d cried a lot in the last month. Probably more than she ever had in her life… or at least since that year when Maryam Aunty passed. But today was the hardest—asking Nikhil to leave hurt more than the surgery.
How had she let herself fall in love with anactor? A person whose goal had always been to be famous? But… she hadn’t. She hadn’t fallen in love with an actor, a movie star, or with a client—she had fallen in love withNikhil. Sweet, caring Nikhil, who’d once been an amazing friend when she’d needed him when they were teenagers, and who now had come into her life exactly when she needed him again. She had no idea how she was going to survive without him.
But she had to. She couldn’t be herself… couldn’t live herlife, with a partner in the public eye. She would always be afraid of being watched. Be worried that everyone knew her private business. She wanted to be in the background making people look their best… not be with a star.
Shayne walked in the door after Marley had been feeling sorry for herself on the recliner for a few hours.
He stared at her with his hands on his hips in the living room archway. “Marley, girl, you look like hell.”
This was Shayne, so she knew the critique came from a place of love. “Shayne, never go to fucking France when I’m getting surgery again. Look at the mess I’ve made.”
He shook his head and sat on the sofa next to her. McQueen looked up, wondering if he should go greet his daddy, but finally decided that Mommy needed him more. “Do you really think I’m capable of stopping you from making mistakes?” Shayne asked. “You know we’re both useless there. I’m a chaos king. I would have pushed you to make an even bigger mess.” He tilted his head, concerned. “I take it you guys broke up?”
She nodded.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. You were really into the beefcake, weren’t you?”
Marley snorted loudly in response.
Shayne raised a brow. “Mar, do I have to call Reena? Resurrect our old Brie, bread, and wine nights?”
Marley nodded again. Back when Reena, Marley, and Shayne all lived in the same building, they used to eat piles of bread and cheese with cheap wine whenever they had relationship woes. Of the three, Marley’s love life had always been the least dramatic. But clearly, she’d outshone the others now.
Shayne pulled out his phone. “I’m on it. And, girl, change. Why are you in your work clothes?”
Marley looked down at her fancy blouse, now with added snot stains. She finally got out of the recliner. “I’ll explain when Reena gets here. Tell her to bring the brioche.”
“This seems bad. I’ll ask for sticky buns, too.”
Forty minutes later, Marley, Shayne, Reena, and Reena’s husband, Nadim, were in her living room. Marley’s hair was wet from the shower she decided to take, and she was on the sofa instead of the blasted recliner. Maybe she should burn that chair in a giant bonfire.
Marley had already told Reena, Nadim, and Shayne everything that had happened today, starting from waking up to find herself in a Hollywood gossip site to getting fired from her job, to breaking up with Nikhil. Marley still couldn’t believe it—she’d lost everything: her privacy, her career, and Nikhil in one huge, unexpected tsunami.
“So, that’s it? He moved out?” Reena asked. She had brought her brioche rolls, her signature country sourdough, and sticky buns from her bakery, along with some various cheeses, jams and chutneys, and some tea. She also brought her husband, Nadim, but Marley didn’t mind. Nadim’s enthusiasm about literally anything in the world was kind of comforting tonight. He’d always reminded Marley of a golden retriever, in a good way.
Marley started unrolling a sticky cinnamon roll. “Yeah. I asked him to go. I assume he’s gone back to his parents’.” She cringed. Hopefully his brother won’t be home on another day pass anytime soon.
“We should have invited him to our place,” Nadim said. Nadim was low-key obsessed with the Ironis movies, so Marley wasn’t surprised he’d welcome an Ironis star into his home, even if it was an ex of his wife’s cousin. And Marleywouldn’t have had an issue with it… What happened wasn’t Nikhil’s fault; maybe Nikhil needed a friend here.
Was he even Marley’s ex? They were a couple for barely two weeks. They’d never gone out in public together—except to her doctor. Marley closed her eyes, hoping she wouldn’t start crying again, then took a long sip of her oolong.
“We’d need to keep him away from the bakery,” Reena said. “My sister saw me grabbing all this and knew immediately someone had a breakup.” Reena’s sister, Saira, who worked with Reena, wasn’t known for discretion. That would be another person they would have had to be careful around if Marley and Nikhil had stayed together. “I told her Shayne was the heartbroken one.”
