“—No matter how well founded,” Amie interrupted.
“No matter how well founded,” he conceded, “by bringing home my beautiful, successful, and wholesome American fiancée.”
“And you thought of me?” She feigned flattery, fanning herself with her hand and in her best Southern accent giggled out, “Why, you do make me blush!”
Malik offered her a genuine smile; staring into her eyes in the same charming way he had at the gala. It all made sense now, Amie thought. He knew how to make a girl feel good.
His eyes left hers and became fixed on the floor beneath him; his jaw set, looking sullen. She gave him a quizzical look and wasn’t sure what to say. Maybe these family-shaming rumors went further than he was letting on; maybe they bothered him more than he was saying.
Why else would anyone hire a fake fiancée?
“But…” Amie started, her brows drawing together. “Why go through all the fuss? Are you scared they’ll take away some impending fortune, or, like, your house or something? If I lived in this place, I sure would be.”
“You do babble,” he said with a grin. “No, they can’t take away anything—my fortune was granted to me when I turned 18. And my American funds are all my own.”
“Then… why?”
“A reputation isn’t as easy to buy as a home,” he said, a hint of sadness behind his usually jovial tone. “My family is important to me; I would never want to bring shame on them.”
“Ah…” Amie nodded, staring down at her plate. She decided a subject change was in order and her face brightened as she offered him a big smile. “Well, Mr. Playboy, I’m flattered you chose me as your star cast member.”
“The choice seemed pretty clear to me,” he said, seeming less tense now that the conversation was taking a different turn. “You’re brilliant. You really roll with the punches.”
She wrinkled her forehead with disbelief and gave a tired laugh before rubbing her eyes with her hand. “I wish you were a real casting director, in that case.”
Malik seemed puzzled but didn’t move to speak; his eyes alone asking for the rest of the story. When none came, he finally bit, “Your performance in Carolina and the Bridge was fantastic.”
“Yeah?” she blanched. “You know, I was only the understudy.”
“Oh really?”
“Really,” she repeated. “You see, Malik, like you, I also grab opportunities when I see them. But, apparently my judgment sucks and those opportunities rarely grab back.”
He grimaced briefly and then looked hopeful once more. “I’m sure success will come in time.”
“Yeah, maybe, but it’s already been two years. How long am I supposed to spend pursuing a career that pays nothing and never gives back? What if I’m just throwing my life away?”
Malik gave a coy smile and walked over to the couch to sit with her, and Amie thought fleetingly that it felt strange being so close to him, despite having been around him all night.
He sat beside her and looked into her eyes, the way a helpful friend might. “You got this job, didn’t you?”
She blinked, but said nothing as she watched him.
“And from what I hear it pays pretty well.”
Finally, Amie laughed. “Yeah, not nearly enough. Note to self: always read the small print.”
The two locked eyes and then looked away from one another. Despite the awkward tension, Malik didn’t get up. Instead, he leaned back into the couch and Amie instinctively leaned back against him. He resumed playing the movie and the two sat up for an hour or more watching the rest of the film.
By the end of it, Malik made sure to mock her for getting emotional, insisting that deep down she was an old film lover, just like him.
Amie laughed, just as she noticed she was leaning into the crook of his neck, and the two of them sat up suddenly.
Sensing that she was about to leave, Malik grabbed Amie’s hand and rubbed his thumb across her palm. “I really do think you’re a brilliant actress,” he said lowly. “Anyone who can pretend to adore me for an entire evening deserves an award, for sure.”