by Alisha Rai
Chapter Ten
DEV HADN’T been on a date in years. And you’re still not going on one.
He fixed his hair for the millionth time. That’s right. He must not forget what this was. A mutually beneficial arrangement. He didn’t even care if it benefited him, to be honest. He’d be happy enough to help her. And spend some more time basking in the warmth of Jia’s smile.
Not a date. Just a chance to pretend he was on one.
“You look nice.”
He stopped fussing with his hair and met his niece’s gaze in the mirror. She stood in his bedroom doorway, clutching her tablet. “Thank you.”
Luna drifted into his room. He’d taken her to get enrolled in school this morning, and to his eye, she already looked a little more grown up than she had when the day had started. It had pained him to leave her there. He imagined it was similar to the separation anxiety parents felt when they first took their children to school. Luna had seemed happy when he’d picked her up, though, so he’d swallowed his misgivings.
“Where are you going?”
He readjusted his tie, though he didn’t need it. “I have a—” He hesitated. He didn’t quite know how to explain Jia to Luna. So far, she hadn’t said anything about the photo of him and Jia in the press, which led him to believe she hadn’t seen it yet. Otherwise surely she would ask who the woman was, right?
He didn’t want her to get her hopes up that Jia might become a permanent fixture. He imagined Rohan had paraded more than one woman in and out of her young life. Plus, he didn’t know what to say. You see, when a man and a woman are both in public positions and/or one of them has an overprotective family, they have to occasionally pretend to like each other. “I have a work event, is all.”
Luna ran her gaze critically over him. “Where are you going?”
“Someplace private.” Jia had mentioned she had a place in mind.
“Is it trendy?”
“Probably.”
“Hmm.” She looked him up and down. “Are you sure you want to wear that?”
“You said I looked nice,” he protested.
“You look nice if you’re going to a business meeting.”
Ouch.
“Do you own jeans?”
“Of course I own jeans.” He half turned to his dresser. “I think.”
“Okay, never mind. Lose the tie.”
He loosened the tie, feeling vaguely naked as he shed it. “Good?”
“Better. I can pull up a couple looks tonight and you can purchase whatever you need tomorrow. Personally, I think you need slimmer cut pants.”
He looked down at his legs self-consciously. All he’d wanted as a teenager was to wear baggy clothes to make his slender frame look bigger. It had taken him years not to feel odd in tighter-fitting clothing. “Thank you, Luna, I would appreciate that. Perhaps you could discuss this with my stylist. I am due for a refresh.” He’d skipped it this year, thanks to their strained finances.
“Speaking of clothes . . .” she said, giving him a bright smile. “Can I get some new clothes to fit into the school here?”
Aha. That’s why she was commenting on his clothes. “Of course.” He went to his closet and pulled out his black shoes. “I can take you to the store—”
“I’ll buy them online. I’ve gotten used to that.”
He sat in the chair next to the closet and put his shoes on. Adil Uncle would fuss on him for walking to the front door in them, but maybe he could escape detection. “Very well. Are you also buying slimmer cut pants?” he teased.
“More like sweatpants and tank tops.”
Dev nearly bit his tongue off to keep from sounding like a scandalized aunt. If the other children wore such casual clothes to learn in, his niece could as well. “Do you need a new backpack as well?”
She hesitated. “I feel bad spending so much.”
Dev came to his feet and tugged on her hair. “Nonsense. You’ve never shopped for school, have you? We must make sure you’re prepared. I should have thought of it last week.”
She named a brand he’d never heard of. “That’s what most of the girls use.”
“Then pick one up for yourself. Black, I suppose.”
“Actually, yellow seems to be the popular color.” She wrinkled her nose. “Two people asked me if I was from New York City. I guess they wear more colorful stuff here.”
“You should wear what you feel comfortable in.” He didn’t want his niece changing to please anyone.
“I feel comfortable not sticking out. Thanks, Kaka.”
There was an odd tremble in her voice. He nudged her chin up. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She hesitated. “Are you going on a date?”
He almost raked his hand through his hair before he remembered that it would muss it up. “Why would you think that?”
“Baba was always going on dates.”
The careful way she said that, without inflection, made up his mind for him. There was no need to tell Luna about Jia yet. “It’s not a date. Just a meeting with a friend.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Try to go to bed before midnight or so?” He didn’t bother enforcing a bedtime on the weekends. “And no—”
“No phone after ten, got it. Have fun.”
With the woman he’d been obsessed with for the better part of a week?
No, not obsessed. He was impressed by her, he thought her skin was luminous and perfect and she had the prettiest eyes he’d ever—
He cut himself off. “I’ll try.”
“HI, JIA!”
“Hi,” she said to her own voice, coming out of her phone. Jia put her bare feet up on the sofa.
“Look, you are bound to be a little nervous tonight, so I’m going to keep this short and sweet. This is business. Think of it as a photo shoot or a sketch. You have no feelings for this guy. Forget whatever feelings you had for his photos and words before—they weren’t him. He’s an actor, and you’re a professional too. Be cool.”
“I will be cool,” she whispered to herself and placed the phone in her lap. She would be cool! There was nothing to be not cool about. This was her plan, and it was a good, logical one. As logical as semimanipulating a man into fake dating her could be.
“And if all else fails, and you start to waver, or you feel attracted to him, think about your parents.”
Yeah, the thought of Farzana and Mohammad Ahmed should kill any hesitation or arousal.
Jia jumped when her front door buzzed. She didn’t know why she was startled. It was seven o’clock on the dot, and that was when she’d told Dev to meet her. He’d never be late.
She’d assumed, though, that he’d pull up outside and text her, the equivalent of honking his horn. But no, he’d come up, like a proper gentleman. If this was a real date, she’d be impressed. She was glad she’d already told the receptionist downstairs that he ought to be let in.
Jia caught her breath a little when she opened the door. Dev was adjusting his cuffs and glanced up, and it was like a picture-perfect GQ shot. He looked a little more casual today, but still as crisp as ever. “Hi,” she said.
“Hello.” He kept his eyes locked on hers. “You look lovely.”
She resisted the urge to fidget. She didn’t usually dither on her outfit choices, but it had taken her some time today to decide on the one-piece long-sleeved, wide-legged jumper. Her scarf matched it, and she’d tied a bow low at her nape, letting the fabric drape over her shoulder. “Thank you.” She gestured. “I just need to grab my purse. Come on in.”
He didn’t move. “I thought this was your studio? It looks like an apartment. It wouldn’t be proper for me to enter your home.”
She might have laughed at his earnestness except it was cute. “No. I mean, yes, it’s an apartment, but it’s not used as my apartment, it’s my office and photo studio. I live in Santa Barbara.”
“That’s far?”
“A little bit. I don’t mind the drive. I get to live with my two closest
friends in the area, so it’s a pretty sweet deal.” She also paid under market rent, because getting Katrina to accept any money had been a significant challenge, but she would have paid any amount to live in the beautiful ocean view house.
“I see.” He glanced around as they entered the living room. “It looks like you—”
“Live here, I know.” Jia tilted her head at the kitchen, which was sparkling clean. “But I really don’t. There’s no food in the fridge or anything, so I can’t offer you any coffee or tea. Sorry.”
“Not a problem.” Dev walked farther into the living room. “So you maintain and stage an entire apartment to make it appear like it’s your own?”
“Yup.”
“Isn’t that misleading?”
“Maybe,” she admitted and smiled at his raised eyebrow. “Surprised at my candor? There’s a lot on social media that isn’t what it seems, but I have started to try to think about what I’m contributing. The truth is, I used to film in my own house and in my own bedroom, but the bigger I got, the more . . . protective I got, about what I was sharing with the world.” She shrugged. “So this is all one giant green screen, but it’s not meant to be a way to fool my viewers and make them think my life is so much better than theirs. It’s more like a shield for me.”
“I understand that.”
“Also I like to eat in bed, and I didn’t want to have to clean up crumbs before every single shoot.”
He chuckled, and she plucked the noise out of the air, wrapped it in a bow, and tucked it away.
She fetched her purse from the couch as he picked up the framed picture on the side table. “Oh, that’s my sister.” Sometimes she deliberately brought a few photos and placed them around the place so it would look more lived in on camera.
“You have a twin?”
“Yeah. She’s perfect.” There was pride in her voice, not bitterness. Ayesha was as perfect a human as one could get, and Jia was in awe of her.
His smile was faint. “That’s what some people think about siblings, I understand.”
“No, she really is. Doctor, really kind, always knows the right thing to say, never does anything bad. The polar opposite of me.”
“I can’t believe you do bad things.”
She busied herself with rummaging in her purse for nothing to avoid how she felt about the way he said bad. “I’ve been known to rebel a time or two.” She zipped her purse closed and glanced at him. “Ready?”
Dev nodded, and gentleman that he was, he didn’t point out that he’d been waiting for her to be ready as they walked out. “What kind of rebellion?”
She locked the door behind her and fell into step next to him. “It was honestly only a rebellion by my parents’ standards. I think anyone else would have been fine with it.”
“What did you do?”
“The big thing? Moved out here to do this gig.”
“You seem quite successful at this gig.”
Not successful enough. “I do okay.”
“You’re famous.”
She shot him a sideways glance as they got in the elevator. “Internet famous is . . . bizarre. I mean a lot to a smaller, passionate group of people.”
“Millions of people.”
“It’s not like your kind of famous, though.”
“Apples and oranges.” His mouth twisted. “I am known for a name.”
She raised an eyebrow. It was rare to hear someone famous sound so resigned to yet bitter about the name that made them famous. “I can assure you, starting off from scratch, without any help, isn’t fun.”
“But you know you’ve earned it.”
But what happens if I fail? She gave a slight shiver.
“Are you cold?” He held the elevator door open for her as they left.
Observant man. “No, I’m fine. You’re pretty popular for your own career. What made you settle on soaps instead of big-budget films?”
“It was fun. And I knew it would piss my grandfather off.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “So you’re rebellious too.”
Dev gave a half laugh. “I suppose so.”
They exited into the parking garage. Their footfalls echoed. Jia fiddled with her purse strap. “Do you want to take your car or mine?”
“I got car service here. I wasn’t sure about parking.”
“You’re learning about this city. Excellent, we can take mine.”
He slowed when she pressed the key fob for her car and it chirped. “That’s your vehicle?”
She smiled proudly at the yellow Beetle. “Yup.”
“Ah, what are the things on its headlights?”
“Eyelashes!” She patted the hood fondly. “Isn’t it cute? I always wanted one of these, but when I lived at home, my parents insisted I drive a sensible car. I love Buggy.”
“Interesting.” Jia was confused for a second when Dev slipped in front of her, but then she realized he was getting her door for her. Gosh. It had been a long time since she’d met a man who opened a door for her.
Charmed, she slipped inside the car and waited for him to round the hood. When he tried to get inside, she understood why he’d sounded hesitant about her car. He shoved his seat back all the way, then folded his body in. His legs were still crammed uncomfortably, and his head was suspiciously close to the roof.
She bit her cheek to control her laugh. It wasn’t nice to laugh at him. But he did look funny. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of how small this might be for you.”
“No worries.” He shifted, and his elbow bumped hers.
She pulled it back, but not because she didn’t like it. Oh no, she liked it a little too much. She imagined her mom frowning at her, and that helped kill some of her liking.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“I know a restaurant that’s really quiet and tucked away.”
He put his seat belt on. “How quiet? Everyone has a phone on them nowadays.”
And he was a hot property, as they’d discovered. She gave him a mischievous smile. For all the stress and upset she’d been under for the last week, it was nice to feel vaguely relaxed. “Don’t worry about it.”
They lapsed into a companionable silence as they drove to the place, interrupted occasionally by Dev asking her about things they passed. When they got to the restaurant, a small, inconspicuous spot on a quiet side street in Highland Park, she pulled around back instead of parking at one of the meters.
He trailed behind her as she went to the back kitchen door and knocked lightly. The door opened and a young man with a thick mustache stuck his head out. “There you are, Jia!”
“Hey, Antony.” She walked inside and gestured to Dev. “This is my friend, um . . . Bob.”
Antony winked. He wore a standard white chef’s jacket, pristine despite the sweat that had plastered his hair to his head, declaring a busy dinner service. “Bob, eh?” He shook Dev’s hand. “Pleasure. Come on, let’s get you guys a seat. The crowd’s died down, I had them clear out the back corner for you. No one will bother you.” Antony led them through the kitchen to a private booth. True to his word, no one was there. “Menus are on the table, waiter will be with you soon. I suggest the gnocchi tonight, but everything’s good, of course.”
“Thanks, Antony.”
The chef left and Dev raised an eyebrow. “You must be a regular here.”
“I did a series about six months ago about mom-and-pop restaurants in different parts of L.A. It took off pretty nicely, though I’m not exactly a food blogger. This was one of the restaurants I went to and they got a nice little lift in business.” She wrinkled her nose. “He tried to repay me in free food, but I don’t feel comfortable being one of those kinds of influencers. I’m willing to accept his gratitude in this manner, though.” She gestured to the almost completely private dining.
“It’s not bad. I used to pay top dollar for this kind of privacy in Mumbai.”
“I imagine it was hard to get around at all there.”
�
��Yes. Here I have some level of privacy. The public in Mumbai felt like my grandparents were theirs. By extension so were we. My brother and cousin—” He cut himself off.
Jia tried to control the automatic lurch in her stomach. “It’s okay, you can mention them.” Since Dev hadn’t said anything more about his relatives, she assumed he’d been unlucky in getting ahold of his cousin to wring more information out.
She was okay not knowing anything more, to be honest. Especially if she had to hear more about how she was collateral damage in some family feud.
She was the star, damn it! Not a side character.
“It’s just that they simply didn’t mind as much as I did.” He pulled out his phone and scanned the bar code on the table, waiting for the menu to pop up on his screen.
The waiter materialized and poured them water. “Can I get you two anything else to drink?”
“Iced tea?” Dev asked her, and she nodded. He ordered for them, getting himself a glass of red wine. “You don’t mind if I drink around you, do you?” he asked after the waiter left.
“Nope.” She perused the menu. “It’s a personal choice for me, I’m not judgy about others. One of my sisters is actually a bartender.”
“Not the twin.”
“Nope. There’re five of us. Noor, Zara, Sadia, Ayesha, me,” she said with the practice of someone who had listed the names in descending order for a while.
“What do they do?”
“The bartender, of course, bartends. Otherwise they’re doctors.”
He raised an eyebrow. “All of them?”
“Noor and Zara are, and Ayesha is in her residency. I would have been, too, but I escaped med school.”
“You went to medical school?”
She took a sip of her water. “I know, I don’t come off as smart enough for that. But yeah, I went for a couple years before I decided to go full-time on the beauty stuff.”
“Who said you’re not smart? I think you’re quite clever.”
“You do?”
“Yes. You’d have to be to come up with fresh content as often as you do. You’re not only an actress. You’re a writer, director, and producer as well. Requires quite a few brain cells.”
She stared at him, and a slow smile split over her face. “You’ve watched my videos?”