Wish Upon a Bollywood Star

By Pamela Q. Fernandes

Charismatic Bollywood actor, Vir Seth declares he won't be trapped into marriage by a scheming woman. When Soumya Ninan overhears his reasons, she decides to punish him by doing exactly that.

Soumya Ninan unleashes a storm when she announces to the newspapers that Vir is engaged. To whom? Why Soumya herself!

The battle has just begun.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
• Release date: Oct 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781945910890

Pamela Q. Fernandes

Pamela Q. Fernandes is a doctor, author, and medical writer. She hosts The Christian Circle Podcast and plays the piano. When she's not writing or practicing medicine, she's baking or traveling the world. She started as an author with Seoul-Mates and since then has written many romances, UNDER A SCOTTISH SKY, CINDERS OF CASTLEREA & other short stories. Pamela writes romance, speculative fiction, women's fiction, and Christian non-fiction.

Book preview

Wish Upon a Bollywood Star

Pamela Q. Fernandes

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.

IF YOU PURCHASE THIS book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher. In such case the author has not received any payment for this stripped book.

WISH UPON A BOLLYWOOD Star

Copyright © 2018 Pamela Q. Fernandes

All rights reserved.

ISBN: (EBOOK) 978-1-945910-89-0

Inkspell Publishing

5764 Woodbine Ave.

Pinckney, MI 48169

EDITED BY RIE LANGDON

Cover art By Najla Qamber

THIS BOOK, OR PARTS thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The copying, scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

OTHER BOOKS BY PAMELA Q. FERNANDES

Seoul-Mates

Cinders Of Castlerea

Under A Scottish Sky

The Milanese Stars

Dedication

For Ann Fernandes.

Thank you for believing in me.

Obrigado!

Chapter One

Soumya plonked down at her desk and hunched closer to the girl who sat across from her.

Has he arrived yet? she asked her colleague.

Kirti gave her a look of feigned innocence. Has who arrived?

Soumya shot her an impatient glance. You know very well who. Stop fooling around. Especially not today, please, Kirti.

Her friend quirked one eyebrow. Is it that time of the month for you?

Soumya rolled her eyes. You’re impossible, sometimes. Has he?

Guess it’s not that time of the month, then! Do you mean Mr. Seth? Yes, he arrived about ten minutes ago. He’s very punctual, isn’t he? Very out-of-keeping for a movie star.

Oh, damn! Soumya frowned her displeasure, ignoring the latter half of Kirti’s comments.

Why? Did you want to see him? Kirti stuck her tongue out playfully.

Not really. Her lips pressed into a fine line.

I thought... Is he... How did he look? Her gaze never left Kirti’s face.

Kirti’s brow furrowed as she sent Soumya a strange look across the desk. She hurriedly took a call from one of their managers and dealt swiftly with the query. Yes, we ordered roses for the guests and the caterers have been informed of the menu.

Even though the event had been scheduled for two months from now, the managers of the PR firm kept calling to check and recheck silly details.

How do you think he looked? Kirti asked, after the minor interruption. How he always looks: dreamy, divine, and so devastatingly handsome. Just as tall and breathtaking as usual.

Did he seem different? From the usual? Soumya went on as Kirti’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

What the hell’s gotten into you, Soumya? Kirti shook her head. Can you please focus on work? Sometimes, it seems like you come here to the office only for good chats. Work is a side task for you. And since you’re asking, let me tell you, Mr. Seth always looks the same. He acts the same way he always does. He walks in here and goes straight into the private lift for the movie stars without acknowledging any of us. He does the same thing when he leaves, only in reverse. He doesn’t see the rest of us mortals, ants as we are. I’ve watched him for fifteen months, ever since he had that blockbuster release of his. An Oscar nomination for foreign film did wonders for his career but nothing for his attitude.

Their brief chat ceased as soon as Soumya’s phone rang. At ten-thirty, work officially began. Editors, agents, caterers, and journalists all called about fixtures and schedules. Being the most junior public relations agent at the firm, she was left with all the grunt work. She found herself very busy for the next hour. She felt like a traffic cop, directing people to speak to her boss or informing her managers they needed to call so-and-so. As a newbie, she couldn’t make any decisions. Everything had to be referred elsewhere.

After the initial flood of calls and emails, the first wave of the morning had been handled. She sank back in her chair for a few minutes to relax. Another cup of coffee would be nice, if only she didn’t feel so nauseous. Kirti remained on the phone, talking to a pesky agent about his client, a snooty singer.

Could the diva lip-sync the national anthem?

Even Soumya could hear the agent bellowing over the phone.

No, Kirti said resolutely. Your diva has already accepted a cheque paying her three times the amount to sing live.

While all this went on, Soumya had time to dwell on her actions.

She’d been a fool. A grand idiot. She’d done the most outrageous thing she’d ever done in her whole life. Of course, she’d done many silly things all throughout, but this one trumped them all. Without a doubt, she would lose her job for what she had done, and it had been a good job, with all the perks and fat pay at the end of the month. Free food and weekly goodie bags, courtesy of sponsors. She must have lost her mind. Her brain had taken a leave of absence temporarily while she’d done it. That could be the only reason for her impulsive actions. When she had seen the announcement in the newspapers that morning, she’d felt sick, violently sick. Her coffee traveled all the way up her throat and she’d swallowed it back down. And yet no one else at the office had seen it—for a public relations firm, news traveled slowly, even though some of that news was about their very own client.

Someone had to have seen it already. How could they not? It could hardly be missed. To her, it looked larger than life. It had been there in the newspaper for all to see, an intended marriage between Soumya Ninan and Vir Seth. Her own engagement—to the current Bollywood heartthrob of the nation! And the worst part of it was, he knew nothing about it. She picked up the phone on her desk as it trilled.

Soumya Ninan, good morning, she said automatically.

Come to Anurag’s office, now! snapped a deep male voice.

In her panic, she almost dropped the phone. Vir Seth, himself. It had to be! But how had he gotten her internal number? And why hadn’t her boss spoken to her first?

She cleared her throat. I—I beg your pardon?

When I’ve finished with you, you’ll certainly be begging, he growled. Your manager’s office. Now.

She jumped when the receiver slammed at the other end. She didn’t need to be told that he’d seen the announcement in the newspapers. The cold fury in his voice caused her to shake.

Something wrong? Kirti asked, noting her trembling fingers.

Soumya realized with a start that her fingers still squeezed tight on the receiver. She put it down hurriedly.

I—I have to go up to the office. Just take any calls if they come, please. She stood on shaky legs. What had she gotten herself into?

Sure. Are you sure you’re all right Soumya? Whatever it is, I’m sure the boss will understand, Kirti offered sympathetically.

She wasn’t so sure. She could only hope. Soumya didn’t know how she made her way to the lift to the top floors, but somehow, she seemed to have managed it. Staff had never been allowed to use it. In the eleven months she had worked on Vir Seth’s campaign, she had only ever used this lift once before, and that had been three weeks ago, when she had been induced to seek this terrible revenge on him. It had all started when she’d been asked to take some paperwork to her boss, Anurag, and escort the model, who’d be on the perfume shoot with Vir, up to the set where they’d be taking headshots. The secretary had instructed her to take the model up to the waiting room and Soumya was ecstatic about running into the famous Vir Seth.

Kirti had been right, for the most part. Whenever he sauntered past the doors of their agency, he didn’t give anyone on their floor a second look, with those caramel eyes of his.

She had searched for him on the top floor. His assistant had apparently gone off on an errand. The secretary had been busy with another star over the phone and asked her to show the model in. Outside the waiting room, the model suddenly wanted to use the restroom to touch up her makeup before she met Vir Seth. It meant Soumya would get a chance to speak to him herself.

She had fallen for him—hard—the moment he had walked in to the building. Who wouldn’t? He was so effortlessly charismatic. He stood tall like most Punjabi men, well over six feet, with a lithe, athletic body that suggested hours of hard work at the gym. His fair skin, unblemished, put that of most women to shame. His dark hair cropped close to his face, his soulful caramel eyes under those dark, sooty eyelashes were so enigmatic. But where she had been instantly attracted to him, he hadn’t reacted at all; those brown eyes had looked right through her.

She knew she wasn’t beautiful, but she wasn’t that plain, either. Dark hair with subtle gold tints swung in gleaming waves about her shoulders. Her dark eyes were surrounded by long thick lashes. Her small, wriggly nose, upturned lips, dusky complexion, and slender frame all added up to a fairly attractive young girl.

And yet to Vir Seth, she might have not even been a woman. She was far too unsophisticated for his tastes. But she knew he wasn’t always ignorant about a woman’s charms; he was reputed to have had many beautiful women in his life at one time or another. The glossies described him as a playboy, an image he didn’t shun. His self-assured arrogance proved evidence of his confidence to seduce without words.

No, here was a man who’d enjoyed women. Many of them. And the fact that they walked away from him without complaint meant they’d got what they bargained for. Maybe that had sparked off her desire to lash out at him.

Leaving the model in the restroom, she’d hovered at the door. She could hear the faint murmur of masculine voices and realized Vir Seth wasn’t alone. With the door slightly ajar, she heard the exchange. They’d been laughing about something. Her boss asked Vir a question, his voice low.

She was about to knock on the door when his words silenced her.

Vir’s deep, throaty voice had floated to her ears, his amusement obvious. I’m afraid I only find women good for one thing, he scoffed lightly. And I don’t mean cooking, he added with deep laughter.

Soumya had stepped back with a gasp. What nerve! The meaning behind his words was obvious and she found herself waiting open-mouthed for his companion’s answer. She knew she really should knock and alert them to her presence before they said anything else, but for some strange reason, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Besides, the model was still in the restroom. The curiosity in her kept her transfixed.

Come on, Vir, her manager said, hardly embarrassed. You love the ladies as much as they love you. I mean, look at all the gifts you get and the ones you take home with you, he continued.

I enjoy them, Vir had corrected. Love, no. I love my car, my pets, my Cartier watch, but a woman? Sorry, no. I’ve desired them, yes. But I find them preferable in only one room of the house and that’s about it.

If any of those women heard the way you talk, you’d have no fans left, he said with a chuckle.

After hearing his ridiculous statements, Soumya wanted to yell the office down and let everyone know what a sleaze Vir Seth really was. She had never felt repulsed by him. How a man as successful and good looking as Vir Seth could over-generalize all the women in the world because of the type he associated with was ludicrous. In her dreams, he appeared as the dazzling hero, who upheld women’s virtue, and to think he had little respect for them outside of his bedroom? His opinions seemed grossly unfair.

From my experience, it wouldn’t matter, he replied carelessly. They’re usually well satisfied and well-compensated for their—talents, he added with a sneer. I’m never going to be trapped by marriage, but none of my women could ever call me selfish. I’ve been more than generous.

I’m sure they’re full of gratitude. The other man laughed.

Knocking firmly on the door, Soumya had decided she had just about heard enough of this distasteful conversation. She had entered when allowed to do so.

Yes? Her manager, Anurag, sent her an inquiring look.

Clearly unhappy at the interruption, Vir Seth raised an eyebrow, his eyes brooding. Soumya stopped in her tracks, the anger slowly fading as she finally stood face to face with the devilishly handsome actor. Her breath hitched at the lazy smile he sent her way, leaving her tongue-tied.

When she finally found her voice, it came out like a dying cat. She couldn’t help the stammer. I-um...I-I’ve brought up the model for the headshots. She’ll be with you in a minute.

He smiled at her again, his eyes crinkling in the corners, obviously enjoying her discomfort. Oh yes, he was.

Looks like you forgot to bring her in with you, he joked.

Anurag chuckled as well. Well, where is she, Soumya?

Soumya swallowed, not wanting to paint the rest of her fair gender in bad light. She’s quite nervous to meet you. She might take some time, she answered breathlessly. Where was that damn model, anyway? Was she taking a shower, too?

He looked every inch the smug movie star, primed and ready for a challenge, the sun from the window filtering through his hair and highlighting the dimples in his cheeks. Her manager sat a little away from him. Even now, Seth’s profile was dreamy. And he wasn’t even making an effort.

She angled herself away from him to face her boss. Here are the papers you requested. I’ve got to go to my desk, Mr. Anurag. With the film festival around the corner, I’ve got to meet the vendors and finalize items for the gift bags. Is it all right if I head back down?

Soumya turned and left the room. She stalled outside the door as she heard him give a throaty chuckle. See what I mean? he asked with amusement.

What? Anurag hastily questioned.

Vir couldn’t help contain his mirth. A smile and a few softly spoken words and any woman will melt, drop her clothes, and bend to your every whim—even that little kitty. She didn’t come here to bring the model. She came here to see me. I think that’s obvious.

So? You’re an actor. Women are floored by you. If they weren’t, you’d be a pauper, and nobody would care about your movies.

They’re all the same, Anurag. Chicks like her are plentiful enough. I’m not going to be caged by the Shaadi trap. No woman is going to pull that on me.

Kitty indeed! She