First Comes Like

by Alisha Rai

  John had asked if he could leak the name of the girl in the photo, and Dev had heartily declined. If he didn’t want to drag some woman into the spotlight to inherit millions and millions of rupees, he definitely wasn’t going to do it to get some extra space in a newspaper.

  Dev stared blindly at his script. He wanted to call Jia, to see if she’d seen the photo, but she’d been pretty final about saying goodbye to him last night.

  Jesus, had he only known her for a matter of days? Perhaps it was all the videos he’d watched of her that made him feel like he’d known her longer. His gaze strayed to his phone. He wasn’t watching them any longer, though. Not since . . . well, since a few hours ago.

  The knock at his trailer door had him sitting straight up. It wasn’t his call time yet, but perhaps the writers wanted to speak to him about some of his notes. Unlikely, given how quickly they’d dismissed him, but one could dream. The script was fine but it was also incredibly . . . boring. And so was his character.

  He opened the door and took a step back, he was so startled.

  Was he a wizard? How had he conjured this? “Jia.”

  “Hi.” She gave him a little wave.

  He’d always thought American accents to be flat and boring, but her voice was anything but. She had a slightly different cadence when she spoke in person. Online, there were more peaks and valleys, and it felt like there was an inflated quality, like a bright and bubbly glass of champagne. Offline, it was more natural, throatier, but no less vibrant. No, he wasn’t watching her videos any longer . . . but he may have fallen asleep to one last night.

  Do not tell her that you fell asleep to a video of her explaining the differences between fake eyelashes. Actually, don’t tell anyone that.

  She stood with one foot on the step up to his trailer. He would be perpetually surprised at how small she was. Her personality made her seem bigger. She wore wide-legged black slacks and a cream sweater today, her hair covered by a light gray scarf. Her makeup was equally muted.

  He wasn’t a man who had ever understood or paid attention to makeup, but after watching so many of her videos, he wondered what had made her choose that coral lipstick and light blush. Online, at least, she seemed to choose each color and brand deliberately.

  What on earth was she doing here? He glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying them attention. As he’d learned, though, one could never predict where a photographer was hiding or who on set may have seen the photo and gossip floating around today. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He backed up so she could come inside. Dev quickly checked himself out in the mirror hanging behind the door. Yes, tie straight, jacket lint-free, glasses clear.

  She glanced around the trailer curiously, but it was a standard set trailer. He’d put nothing of himself in it. “Have a seat.” He gestured at the table, since the couch had his script spread out all over it. “Would you like a drink?”

  She sat down. “I don’t want to put you through any trouble—”

  “Not trouble. I was about to have some iced tea.” He wasn’t, but it was hot out and there was a tiny trickle of sweat at her temple.

  “I’d like some as well, then.”

  He grabbed two bottles of iced tea from the stocked fridge he barely touched and brought them to the table, sitting across from her. This felt oddly intimate, but it shouldn’t. People took business meetings in their trailers all the time. It’s not like this was his bedroom or anything.

  She took a long sip and set the bottle down. “I’m sorry to bother you here.”

  It wasn’t only her makeup. There was something more subdued about her today, like her anger and indignation had been calmed, though he wasn’t sure by what. “How did you get on the set?”

  “Eh. It’s easy enough to know somebody who knows somebody in this city.”

  “I . . . assume you saw the photo of us.”

  “I did.”

  “And you saw what they implied?” He tried to keep his tone matter-of-fact, but wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

  She nodded.

  He winced. “I apologize. I truly was trying to shield us from a photographer. I didn’t think there would be someone else.”

  “Who would?” She gave a halfhearted smile. “Everyone’s paparazzi these days.”

  “Indeed.”

  She placed her purse on the table. “My family saw it.”

  He grimaced. “They recognized you? I’m sorry, I told myself the only good thing was that your face was obscured.” By my body. He took a sip of his iced tea to get the word out of his head. No need to go thinking about bodies around this woman. “Are they particularly conservative?”

  “Not terribly conservative, but they worry.”

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I am usually careful about paparazzi. I became too relaxed here.”

  She nodded. “What’s the reaction been like for you?”

  “My agent is delighted. I have never been the one the media gossips about in my family.”

  “How do you feel about it?”

  He lifted his shoulder. “I suppose I’m mostly worried about how it may affect you.”

  Her eyes softened. “That’s kind of you.”

  “It’s not kind. I owe you, as it is.”

  Her lip curled up in the corner. “Please don’t offer me money again.”

  “I wouldn’t, now that I know how you feel about it.” He’d had to scrape his account to put that check together, so a part of him was glad she hadn’t taken it. He still didn’t see anything wrong with compensating her and soothing his guilty conscience, but he could see how it could be misconstrued as hush money.

  She traced the water ring the iced tea bottle had left. “I don’t need money.”

  “Understood.”

  “But there’s something else you could do for me.”

  He leaned forward. “Anything.”

  She looked up, and he was so captured by her pretty light eyes and the long lashes she’d artfully curled, that he almost missed her next words.

  “I’d like you to date me.”

  JIA WONDERED IF she’d shocked proper Dev into silence. He’d gone still and stared at her like she’d grown two heads.

  He finally adjusted his glasses, as if to see her two heads better. “You want to date me?”

  “Oh no.” She didn’t want him to get some foolish idea that she was still pining for him, because she was not. This was a business arrangement that would benefit them both. “I want to pretend to date you.”

  Dev leaned back in his seat and tapped his fingers on the table. It was hard to breathe in this little trailer, and that was most definitely because he was taking up far too much space. She’d seen him only in suits before, but this one was more relaxed, the tie pulled loose and slightly askew. She was going to assume that was for the role he was playing, and not of his own volition. His hair was ruffled up, and there was a trace of eyeliner on his eyes, which told her hair and makeup had prepped him already.

  They’d done a bad job of blending, though. She ripped her gaze away from the line of foundation at his collarbone. It wasn’t her problem, that foundation line.

  “I do not think that sentence is as explanatory as you believe it is.”

  “Okay. Here’s the deal.” She steepled her fingers in front of her face. She’d rehearsed this on the drive over. She knew exactly what to say, and she wouldn’t have her brain turned to mush because she was in front of an attractive man, damn it. “It sounds like this publicity helped you, right?” That was what she’d been banking on. The tabloid articles had been gleeful, not condemning, and she knew how much actors loved their attention.

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  “So now you owe me twofold?”

  “Ah . . .”

  “Because you could help me out. By meeting my parents in a few weeks and posing as my boyfriend. Did I mention that you owe me?”

  Dev blinked at her, his glasses magnif
ying his eyes. “Uh.”

  Dev’s shock wasn’t entirely unexpected. This sounded like something out of a zany comedy. She backed up. “I may have allowed my family to believe that I was dating you.”

  “Why would you do that?” he asked slowly.

  “They saw the picture,” she reminded him.

  “You could have explained it was a misunderstanding.”

  “I know. I tried to tell them that. But you see . . . one of them overheard me talking to my sister about you. Or the man I thought was you.” She scrunched up her face. “You know what I mean. Anyway, this confirmed things for them, and I didn’t know what to say. I either had to confess that I had lied about ever talking to you and knowing you, or I had to say that I was catfished, and I couldn’t do that without them getting mad, and the next thing I knew I was saying that, yeah, we were totally dating, and then my mom said they’d come here and meet you and—”

  She was shocked when he lightly placed his hand on her arm. “Hey, hey,” he said, and his voice was so low and soothing it almost brought a tear to her eye. She hadn’t realized how worked up she was. “It’s okay. That makes sense.”

  “Does it?” She blinked rapidly to control potential leaking. Stupid emotions.

  “Absolutely.” He patted her arm and withdrew his touch, which made her slightly sad. “What will you do in the long-term? Your parents will be disappointed if it doesn’t work out, yes?”

  As disappointed as I was when you turned out to be fake. “They’d be more disappointed at the alternative explanations. You’re authentic and a good guy. They’ll approve.”

  “You want their approval?”

  “Of course.”

  Dev rubbed his hand over his jaw. It was a nice jawline. She’d seen photos of him without the beard. The facial hair made him look older and slightly nefarious, though now she knew he would be careful to not touch her in an untoward manner even when they were hiding from discovery.

  Which was good, she totally didn’t want him to touch her. She discreetly brushed her fingers over the still warm spot where he’d patted her on her forearm. No touches wanted at all.

  “How do you know I’m a good guy?”

  She cocked her head. “You could have lied to me about your cousin being the one to send those messages. You didn’t have to apologize.”

  “That is what any decent person would have done.”

  “Sadly, the bar is on the floor when it comes to decency these days.”

  “You know, my sister on Kyunki Mere Sanam Ke Liye Kuch Bhi had a similar storyline once. She pretended to have a fiancé from Canada, and hired an actor. The problem was when he met our parents on the show, the lie fell apart because they were clearly strangers to one another.” He paused, and his tone gentled. “I am an actor, Jia, but your parents know you well, and I do not think they will be fooled by someone who does not. Or suppose they ask us simple questions, such as how we met, or what our first words to each other were?”

  “We have time before they get here, like a month at least. We can learn everything we need to know about each other by then, and we can get our stories straight. We can even get together in advance. Have some study sessions.”

  “It wouldn’t be proper for us to meet in private like this too much.” He gestured around them at the otherwise empty trailer.

  His concern over impropriety was an ingrained, earnest part of his personality, it seemed. “Can I ask you something? How are you like this? Not to stereotype, but I wouldn’t think anyone raised in the movie industry would be so concerned about what’s proper.”

  “I wasn’t in the industry for my formative years.” His small smile encouraged hers. “I don’t judge anyone else for what they do, but I am conscious of my own behavior. It was how I was raised, but perhaps at some point it became a rebellion against the excesses of the industry. I understand if that seems boring.”

  “Not boring. Old-fashioned, maybe.” But she didn’t mind. It was kind of refreshing to be around a man her own age who cared about such things. “We can meet in public. It doesn’t have to be in private.”

  He stilled. “Like . . . dates?”

  Her heart sped up, an extra couple of beats per minute. “Um, sort of.”

  “Someone could see us together, though. It’s one thing for me to be caught in an embrace with a woman, another thing for me to be seen with a specific woman. You will be scrutinized and criticized.” He paused. “If we were actually dating, I would keep it so tight under wraps, no one would know.”

  If we were actually dating . . .

  She steepled her hands under her chin and tried not to swoon at the protective declaration. “They might be mean to me, yes. But I’m in the public eye already. If you think those same people haven’t already canceled or threatened or harassed me for other things I’ve said and done, you’re mistaken.” Her smile was faint. “They’re not my audience. So long as we’re not making out, I think the scandalized outrage will be kept to a minimum. “There would be no physical stuff,” she added hastily.

  “Of course. I’d never do anything a woman wasn’t comfortable with.”

  “So, yeah. If we did happen to get photographed together, it would be inconvenient as far as my extended family is concerned, maybe, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It might even be good for both of us. Publicity is always helpful.”

  His eyes sharpened. “Do you need the boost? I was under the impression that you were very successful.”

  She squinted at him. “You know what I do?”

  “Of course. I googled you before I contacted you.”

  “Do not believe that Wikipedia article, it is off on my numbers.”

  “I didn’t read Wikipedia.”

  “Good.” She wouldn’t ask what he had looked at, damn it, even though she was curious. “I am successful. But I’m getting old.”

  “You’re under thirty.”

  “Old in internet years.” She stretched her legs out, and her knee cracked, punctuating her claim. It was because of an old softball injury and not her age, but she liked the drama of her body concurring. “I lost momentum a while back.”

  “Sponsors?”

  “Yes.” That had hurt, though she’d understood how the game worked. Sponsors and brand partnerships went where numbers went. “My five-year plan was on track before. I need to get it back.”

  “What’s your five-year plan?”

  “I want to have my own makeup company.”

  “Ambitious.”

  “I suppose.” She spun her bottle. “So. What do you think?”

  He nodded once. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” She wanted to rub her ears and make sure she was actually hearing right, but that would ruin her confident approach.

  “Let’s do it. I can certainly charm your parents for a weekend.”

  Charm them? He was tall, handsome, rich, famous, and breathing. He didn’t even have to talk to charm her mother.

  He stuck out his hand. “Here’s to a mutually beneficial, manufactured, and discreet romance.”

  Just what every girl dreams of for her first romance.

  It wasn’t a romance. It was a fauxmance at best. Jia hesitated for a second. It had been her idea—why was it spooking her now that it was coming to fruition? She forced herself to accept his shake. “Yay,” she said.

  A knock came on the trailer door. “Five minutes, Mr. Dixit.”

  She came to her feet and Dev immediately followed. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  “When will I see you again?”

  Oh damn. She hadn’t really planned that far ahead. “Um . . .”

  “This Friday. We can have dinner somewhere.”

  “Somewhere private,” she reminded him.

  “That would be nice.”

  “Cool. You can pick me up at work. I’ll text you the address.”

  She followed him to the door, and she kept her gaze studiously on his back. She was noticing nothing other than his back. S
he was not going to look—

  Oh no, she looked. Her gaze shot back up to his head from his firm backside. Almost immediately, she averted her eyes. She wasn’t going to look anymore.

  She was surprised when Dev descended the stairs first—he seemed like he was all about manners and ladies first. But then he turned around and extended his hand to help her down the concrete.

  Jia hesitated on the top step, where she was eye level with him. His makeup was going to haunt her if she drove away without fixing it. “Hang on a second.” She popped open her purse and pulled out one of her emergency makeup sponge blenders. “Do you mind tilting your chin up? May I touch you to fix your makeup?”

  “Sure.” He slowly angled his face up to her.

  She dabbed the sponge on his skin. Absent-mindedly, she lightly rested her fingertips on his shoulder to steady herself. “There we go,” she half murmured. “This isn’t quite the right shade for you, but that’s no surprise. Ask them to blend this color and a lighter one next time to get you closer.” When she had her company, she was going to make sure to offer more base colors. Mixing was such a pain.

  Jia withdrew her touch and examined the work critically. It wasn’t perfect, but at least it wasn’t offensive. “There.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “Apparently, there is a new makeup artist, this seems to be her weakness.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “If I may suggest something . . .”

  “Yes?”

  Something entered his gaze, and it took her a second to identify what it was. “If you want to keep our arrangement discreet, probably best to leave my makeup snafus alone from now on.”

  He was teasing her. Uh-oh. Teasing Dev was probably the cutest form of Dev.

  She had to be careful here. Finding her fake boyfriend cute might complicate things.

  She would not be swayed from her goal! Jia descended the rest of the stairs and looked up at him. “Is makeup blending a girlfriend-ish act?”

  “I’m not sure,” he murmured. “I haven’t had a lot of girlfriend experience. I assume we’ll find out. I’ll see you soon, Jia.”

  At some point while she was not being swayed, she’d get over the way he said her name, too.