A Date With A Bollywood Star
The Dos and Don’ts of interviewing a Bollywood legend…Bagging an interview with deliciously sexy superstar Omar Khan, was the assignment of my dreams – he was my teenage pin-up! Read on for the exclusive scoop on what happened when I met my idol…1.I was late. Seriously late, and then fell flat on my face at his feet… ouch.2.The interview I sent to my editor accidentally read like a love letter, and now the whole country knows about my crush – including Omar!3.Now I’ve discovered the real man behind the brooding celebrity, how could I fall for anyone else?
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âSo youâre the missing reporter who should have been here forty-five minutes ago, are you?â
Rani gave him an embarrassed, shy smile. She felt weak, vulnerable, and very stupid for smiling like a silly schoolgirl.
âYouâd better get in, then,â he said, and opened his door. âCome on. If you want that interview youâd better hurryâweâre running late!â
Rani lowered her head and slipped cautiously into the back seat.
âIâm very sorry Iâm so late. I got delayed watching one of your movies!â It was half true, she thought, and it sounded better than admitting to oversleeping on the sofa.
âInteresting. Which one?â
âSacred Heart. Itâs my favourite.â
âMine too,â replied Omar, looking straight at her.
Rani could sense his gaze upon her. Sheâd waited ten years to be this close to him, and if the feelings growing in her body were anything to go by it was worth the wait â¦
RIYA LAKHANI is the pen-name of a husband-and-wife writing team who both work in televisionâwhich was the backdrop for their own romance. They work in TV newsâone as a presenter, the other as a producer. In the best courtship tradition, on their first date they were accompanied by a chaperone! They live in the heart of the UK with their two children, and draw upon their own background of mixed cultures for their inspiration. They say writing romance is the perfect antidote to the doom and gloom of TV news because thereâs always a happy-ever-after.
Thank you to everyone who made it possible. You know who you are, and we know where you live!
Table of Contents
RANI LET HERSELF into her apartment, switched on the lights and then closed all the blinds in the open-plan living room. Being on the eighth floor gave some privacy but you never knew who might be looking. It was a neat and tidy flat that she was happy to call home. Everything was just where she wanted it: knickers in the knickers drawer, shoes on their racks, suits pressed and bagged hanging in colour order in the wardrobe. It was exactly the way she liked it. Although perhaps it might be nice to find a little disarray with the bedclothes now and again, she thought naughtily to herself. She fitted the flat and it fitted in with her busy life in the centre of London. Yes, she had everything she wanted: the career in journalism, a best friend she could call on at any time of the day or night and a mother who phoned religiously every Sunday morning at eleven on the dot.
The red light on the answer phone was flashing. Rani walked towards it, sat down on the sofa, took off her overly high heels, which made her smile just to hold them, and hit the play button. It was her office.
âRani, itâs Tony, weâve an urgent job for you. Omar Khan is back in town and we didnât know. Heâs making a movie and weâve got just ten minutes with him tomorrow morning at eight-thirty. Heâs staying at Claridgeâs. Donât be late. If I donât hear from you then Iâll assume youâll be there. Bye.â
Rani replayed the message. She had definitely heard correctly. Omar Khanâshe had to interview the Omar Khan. He didnât normally give interviews. She thought about the rumpled bedclothes again. Omar Khan had been her idol when she was growing up. He had been the leading man in Indian films for years. She remembered the first movie of his sheâd seen, Sacred Heart. It was still her favourite of all time and now she was actually going to meet him. She dived off the sofa towards the DVD shelf. She realised her hands were shaking as she traced along the titles looking for the film. Got it! She turned on the plasma, put the DVD in and hit the play button. As the soundtrack started she walked to the bathroom and began taking off her make-up and washing her face.
What an evening sheâd had! Press passes to the hottest club in London where sheâd danced herself silly and now she was going to meet the heart-throb from her teens. The haunting music wafted around her head and she closed her eyes imagining the images playing on the screen. The leaves falling, two horses being ridden through the wood; on one was Keshina Chandrapour, the leading female Bollywood star at that time. On the other, Omar Khan. She could see his chestnut horse in her mind, the slow-motion shots of hooves hitting the ground, throwing up leaves, and the bright sunlight dancing through the trees. The overflowing sink brought her back to the bathroom.
âOh, stupid!â she said to herself and threw a towel onto the floor to mop up the water. Rani put her dressing gown on and walked back into the living room with a blanket from her bed and curled up on the sofa. Research, she told herself as she settled down to watch the rest of the movie.
The phone rang and Rani ignored it. She rolled over and back into the dream she had been enjoying. Riding through the wood on the back of a horse, her arms clasped around the waist of the man in front of her. As the horse thundered along she was holding him tight for fear of falling off, and just because she could! She tried to regain the sensation sheâd had of her head against his hot muscular back but the phone kept ringing and breaking the concentration of her sleepy mind.
