Bollywood Confidential by Sonia Singh

couldn’t help listening in on these glamorous creatures with their light, flirtatious, slightly exaggerated way of speaking.
    She recognized the woman with flowing burgundy-tinted black hair and supermodel-like cheekbones sitting closest to her. Bani Sen. Currently the “it” girl in town, Bani had the distinction of being part of both the high society and the Bollywood scene.
    As Raveena had learned, not everyone made the transition.
    Bani had recently starred in one of Raveena’s mother’s favorite movies. Bani had played a sexy but virtuous woman who wins the heart of a serial playboy with her traditional values and high morals.
    Next to Raveena, Bani laughed gaily and made several snide remarks about butt-fucking and blowjobs. She then demanded to know if anyone would share a line of coke.
    Raveena wasn’t a prude, but she had an image of her mother’s face, happily watching Bani’s movie, and she had to get out of there.
    She was about to get up when Bani turned and smiled, her dark eyes cool and assessing. “So you’re the one starring in Randy’s new flick?”
    Several of Bani’s friends exchanged knowing glances.
    Raveena didn’t need to read the Bhagavad Gita seven hundred times to know what their looks meant.
    They assumed she was sleeping with Randy.
    She nearly spewed risotto.
    â€œYeah,” Raveena said. “With Siddharth, ” she emphasized.So she was bragging. She couldn’t help it. These women were getting to her.
    Bani’s gaze turned mocking. “Oh, I know why Sid’s doing it. He feels guilty. His father and Daddy were good friends…but what’s your excuse? Shouldn’t you be off in Hollywood making a film with Colin Farrell? I know that if I were from LA, ” she mimicked Raveena and emphasized the last word, “I would consider it a step down to come and work in India.”
    Raveena considered bitch-slapping Bani—surely that would put her on Page Three—but she respected Daddy too much and knew a WWF-type shakedown would surely cause the gentle man some embarrassment.
    Instead, she smiled back at Bani. “You know, I never really thought of Bollywood as a step down.” So she was lying. “But after meeting you, I really do feel like I’m slumming it.”
    And with that, she stood and walked away, her heart pounding.
    She was close to tears. She wasn’t a socialite or a glamorous creature, and she couldn’t throw her head back, laugh gaily and discuss which was worse—an enema or anal sex.
    Or at least not without a few drinks in her.
    She went outside and stood at the railing, looking out at the sea. Moonlight glistened on the water. The gardens to her right beckoned, and she followed the small path leading away from the house, wanting to get far away from the party.
    It was there in the center of a gazebo dripping with star jasmine blossoms that she ran into Siddharth.
    He was sitting on a white marble bench with his head in his hands.
    At the sight of her he grimaced. “Shit. You didn’t follow me, did you?”
    Raveena burst into tears.

Chapter 23
    Siddharth wondered if the rumors were true .
    Was Raveena sleeping with Randy Kapoor?
    Well, that would explain the crying.
    She sat down next to him on the marble bench and wiped ineffectually at the tears with the back of her hand.
    Siddharth reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a handkerchief. Silently, he handed it to her.
    â€œThanks,” Raveena muttered and dabbed at her face. “I know why I left the party, but why did you?
    What was he going to tell her? That India’s answer to Brad Pitt felt uncomfortable in a room full of people?
    His aloofness was in actuality a painful shyness. And that shyness was especially evident around members of the opposite sex. They expected him to be a stud like in the movies, a consummate lover.
    Immediately after his first brush with success,