“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.”