“Your friend,” Mom said after a few more moments. “Is she okay? Or are you not… friends anymore?” Mom slapped a new paratha on the tawa.
“She’ll be okay. But… yeah, I guess we’re not… friends anymore.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine.” He was doing it, too—saying he was fine when he wasn’t. Just like his mother did. Just like Marley did.
Mom rolled out the next flatbread. Nikhil realized he wanted the opposite of what pretty much any second-generation Indian kid wanted… hewantedMom to intrude. To get all up in his business and find out what really happened with Marley. He wanted her to be the kind of mom who justknewwhen her youngest son was heartbroken. He wanted her to say time would heal this pain. And he wanted to be able to tell his mother that he’d lost the person he’d first fallen in love with when he was that dreaming teenager.
But he couldn’t unload his troubles on his mother. She had enough of her own to deal with.
“Every time I saw your prom picture on the wall downstairs, I wondered what happened to that girl,” Mom said suddenly.
Wait… Momknewthat Marley wasMahreen? Did she know back then how bad he had it for her? Did Mom know that he almost threw away all his dreams for her?
Or that he was seriously thinking about throwing them all away for her again?
“Beta, do you remember that when you were a boy, you told me you were going to win an Oscar and an Emmy? But not a Grammy because you couldn’t sing.”
He frowned. He didn’t remember that.
“But you sang inThe Last Time He Cried. I thought you were good. Maybe you can get an EGOT.”
Nikhil laughed. “You watched that?” There was a terrible karaoke scene in the movie.
“Of course. I watch all your movies. That one’s my favorite. I always wanted to watch it with you. Maybe… while you’re here, we can do that? Watch together?”
Nikhil smiled. “Yeah. We should.”
He didn’t remember the last time he’d watched a movie with his mother. Her timing wasn’t random. Mom being here now, making parathas with Nikhil the day after he left the love of his life, was her way of supporting him. This was what she was capable of giving right now, and maybe it was enough.
Blinking away the tears welling in his eyes, Nikhil flipped a paratha on the stack, then got the butter from the counter.
“Should I make each of us one with butter and sugar?” he asked.
Mom nodded. “Yes. I think that’s exactly what we need.”
The boardroom at the Toronto studio office was sleek and modern, with walls lined with movie posters and a huge screen with the studio logo projected on it. And everyone Nikhil expected to be there was there. Lydia, Kaelyn, and Carmen. Plus the producer, Sasha Keller, and some studio execs. Weirdly, Serena wasn’t there, though, which pissed him off. This concerned her, too. But then again, part of the reason he was here was probably because of their blowout fight yesterday. Serena was the superstar, and he was the nothing. So, he’d have to take the heat for what had happened. Before Nikhil said anything else, he told them he needed to get his agent tapped into the room.
“We have her and others waiting on video conference,” Kaelyn said.
In seconds, the screen filled with faces. Two LA execs and Esther. Still no Serena or Serena’s representation.
“Okay,” one of the executives on the screen started, “before we get into damage control, be aware that legal is looking at Nik’s contract right now to see where he has breached it.”
“He hasn’t,” Esther said. “I would never have allowed my client to sign a contract that would disallow him from taking his friend to the doctor when she needed it.”
“Of course not,” the executive said. “But he does have a morality clause. Him buying boobs and hooking up with his stylist in a plastic surgery office kind of ruins that perception.”
“I didn’t hook up with her! I kissed her because she was upset. And she’s not even my stylist anymore. Esther told you all—”
“Nik, darling,” Esther interrupted. “Let me handle this.”
“This is what I don’t understand,” Lydia said. “You and thatgirl hadn’t seen each other for years before we hired her. How did that evolve to buying her new boobs weeks later? That surgeon’s waiting list is years long. He’s the best.”
“My client’s personal life is not up for debate here,” Esther said. “He has not broken the morality clause by taking his friend to a doctor.”
Nikhil wasn’t going to betray Marley’s privacy again and tell them that she had had a mastectomy, not a breast augmentation. Not that that should make any difference at all. She was entitled to do whatever she wanted to her body. And this was literally show business—why did they care if Marley had had plastic surgery?
