Essentially, “plans” included me sitting on the lanai with an ocean view, sipping drinks, nibbling on cheese, and scouring my laptop. Diya would end me. Just like Gabrielle. Even if I didn’t love my job, it was difficult to unplug. It was why I couldn’t just watch TV and not be on my phone and tablet. And why it was hard to just read a book and get lost in the story. My brain had to juggle multiple things at once.

“I’m going to be a breath of fresh air,” I told him.

“What?” He stared at me as if I’d spewed frothy lies at him.

“Your friends will only get off your back if you’re deliriously happy. Especially with your ex there.”

“You’re going to pull off deliriously happy?”

I batted my eyelashes. “I make all my men deliriously happy.”

He opened his mouth—knowing him, probably to inquire what had happened to all those men if I’d made them so content—but he, smartly, didn’t say anything.

This might be fun after all. I’d always wanted to be an actor. Okay, well, maybe in high school during my Bollywood phase. I could ham it up. I could be the perfect girlfriend, if for nothing else than to occupy my time so I wasn’t bored to death around his friends. Something to keep my mind off work and checking my messages every half second for interview updates. This was a vacation that had turned into a fake dating heist. I might as well be the center of my own best fantasy.

“I can tell this has already blown up in your head.”

I snickered. “Your ex will be begging for you to go back to her.”

“Not what I want.”

“Then revenge relationship.”

“I’m not vengeful.”

“I’m sure whatever you want doesn’t involve her pushing her relationship in your face all week and your friends pitying you.”

He, again, opened his mouth, but snapped it shut. Instead, Sunny pulled his suitcase behind him as we strolled toward the sidewalk. He could act like he didn’t care about any of this, but he wasn’t a robot. He had feelings, and if I were in his shoes, I’d be annoyed, upset, hurt, agitated, anything except wholly joyous during my friends’ wedding/vacation. Yet I found myself wondering if Sunny had feelings for Sejal, if they could work out in the end, and most importantly, what had happened.

Ugh. No. I wasn’t here for the drama. But the tea? Yes. I wanted him to spill the tea.

“What happened between you two?” I asked as we walked to the front door and I unlocked it.

Sunny pulled in his rolling suitcase. “That’s personal, and we’re not that close.”

I shrugged. “A current girlfriend would know what happened with the ex she’s about to spend time with.”

“No,” he replied sternly, his voice gravelly.

I watched him take in the villa, adding, “A real girlfriend would be pretty upset with the situation if she didn’t know.”

He locked eyes with mine. “That’s why you’re pretend, and you can pretend to know and/or not care.”

“We’ll see.”

“We should establish base rules.”

“Okay.”

“One, no prying into each other’s personal lives.”

I nodded.

“This is a ploy meant to last a few days. That’s all.”

“Of course. We’ll return to bickering coworkers the moment we set foot on a plane.”

“What happens on island stays on island.”

I sneered. “As if anything should happen.”

He dragged his gaze to me, and for the briefest of moments, those chestnut eyes challenged my dismissal. Until he clarified, “No one at work should know we even ran into one another here. Gossip can kill a career.”

“Acceptable.”

He watched me for a minute. “Do you have any rules?”

“Don’t fall in love with me.”

He shook his head, exasperated.

I grinned. “Try not to fight. If that’s at all possible. I don’t want drama on my vacation. Save it for the work pool.”

“Agreed.”

And that was that. There was no need to mention flirting or sex, et cetera, because that was, simply and hilariously, pushing the details a bit too far.

“This place is very opulent. Didn’t realize something as easy as research paid so well. You must be doing nice for yourself,” he commented.

And here we went. “Jealousy does not make for a good fake boyfriend slash last-minute houseguest.”

He held his hands up. “It’s just, your job does seem fairly easy in comparison to coding.”

“We each picked our career paths. But I’ll take that as a compliment; a testament, if you will, of how I make research look so easy. I do run a smooth ship.” I blew against my nails. He didn’t need to know that Diya had staggering discounts for this place.

“I meant to say…you run user tests all day. Show people designs and prototypes and observe them, ask questions, adjust as needed, and do it all over again until approval rating is high enough. It’s not like coding, where you have to create working prototypes from nothing.”

“Down to the last detail,” we said in unison, Sunny scowling and myself mockingly rocking my head back and forth because I’d heard his mightier-than-thou spiel a dozen times.

“You ever consider that other people work just as hard as you do?” I asked, a hand on my hip.

“I know they might. You probably don’t stay up all night fixing bugs and ignoring loved ones.”

Did he mean exes? Was that why they broke up? He spent so much time glued to his many screens that he lost track of relationships? He vaguely reminded me of those couples who ate while watching TV, fell asleep to the TV, always had the TV on and never talked. They didn’t discuss their days or problems or celebrations. They didn’t cook together or clean together. Just closed mouths and a blaring TV. Days passing into oblivion without ever having done much to improve, much less enjoy, their lives together. It was sad. Was dating a workaholic like Sunny the same?

Aside from his good looks and Denzel voice, one might wonder why anyone dated him in the first place. Could he be that different with his relationships? Actually nice and generous and charming? I couldn’t imagine he’d make a girl’s toes curl, but who knew? Also, could a girl’s toes curl? What did that even mean? Sounded painful.

“Maybe if you smiled more?” I suggested.