If Kapoor had been surprised by Saffi’s knowledge, she didn’t show it. She did, however, take her time before responding. As though considering her words carefully.
“Communications is fine,” Kapoor replied. “Just not my passion.” She reached into her bag and held up a thick bundle of papers, the corners of which lifted with the wind. It had the weathered look of a well-loved book.
The large “[Confidential]” mark splashed in ink across the front gave away that it was a script. Nobody would give two shits about it if it were blank. Saffi wouldn’t be surprised if actors stamped it themselves to be sure everyone in a twenty-mile radius noticed.
“Communications is no one’s passion,” Saffi deadpanned. “But what I don’t understand is how you came to that conclusion. You hadn’t taken a single communications class. Your coursework was all over the place. Organic chemistry, physics, English—hell, even computer science.” Kapoor tensed for a fraction of a second, but Saffi still caught it. The endless phone calls and trips down to the university to acquire those transcripts, while a truly harrowing experience, had been worthit.
“You’ve done your research,” Kapoor said. It felt vaguely mocking. “What is there to say? I enrolled in those courses because they sounded interesting, but,” she shrugged, “I was out of my depth. It doesn’t matter how many lectures you attend if you don’t retain the information.”
Saffi grinned. “You’re lying. You aced all of them, I saw your transcript.”
If she hadn’t studied liars and criminals for nearly a decade, she would’ve thought Kapoor was completely unaware of being caught out. But the way her body stilled for a fraction of a second spoke volumes.
“Grades are nothing but ink on paper. Perhaps my true skills lie in plagiarism.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second, but that doesn’t explain why you would lie about it.”
But Saffi already knew why she’d lied. Kapoor was an actress, she enjoyed manipulating people’s impressions of her to her liking. Maybe that was why she’d chosen the communications track. It was vague and unassuming enough, at least for those who didn’t bother to look deeper at the classes she’d been enrolledin.
Saffi thought back to the shelves of VHS tapes at Kapoor’s apartment, not a speck of dust on them. Or maybe it was that Kapoor had wanted to give the traditional college route an honest effort, trying a bit of everything to see what stuck. And it was her true passion that won out in the end.
This was something Saffi could understand: putting your all into a passion until it consumed you whole. But the problem with that was that it would eventually leave you hollow inside.
Saffi hadn’t been expecting an answer, so it startled her when Kapoor spoke again.
“Perhaps I feel bad,” she said, looking up through dark lashes. Cars honked on the busy street nearby, but the sound faded into background noise. “Perhaps I’m turning over a new leaf.”
“You act like I don’t know you.”
Kapoor gave her a small, almost sad look in return. “It is never a good thing to be known.” It was the first thing she’d said that sounded like the truth.
The sound of crunching gravel heralded a cab pulling into Andino and Taylor’s parking lot. They put their conversation on pause, tracking the vehicle until it came to a stop in front of them. There was so much left to say, but neither of them spoke again. Saffi thought that would be it, but Kapoor stalled in closing the door, poking her head out again.
“You were right,” she said, twin dimples on either side of her face. “This is fun. Don’t ruin it.”
Saffi watched as the car peeled out of the parking lot, blending seamlessly into midday traffic. She knew better than anyone the look of a woman carrying the weight of her past. Kapoor didn’t seem all that concerned that Saffi was looking into her college years, so hersecrets likely didn’t lie in her coursework. She did, however, seem alarmed at the level of access Saffi had managed to obtain. Saffi was on the right path, she just had to keep digging.
She didn’t notice the new presence beside her until Taylor spoke. “Sorry—have you seen a blue folder?”
Saffi nearly jumped.
“I swear it was just on my desk. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but the printer’s out of commission and I have to get this finished within the next half hour.” Taylor sounded haggard.
When Saffi turned to face him, he looked even worse. She took pity on him, knowing he was in a rush to leave the office.
“Kapoor’s paperwork?” she asked. “I took care of that yesterday.” There was no use in waiting when she already knew Kapoor would agree to help them.
Taylor opened his mouth, as though to reply, but nothing came out. He shut it with an audible click, brows furrowed.
“Why?” he asked eventually.
“Don’t you have plans tonight? For once in your boring life, I might add.” He continued to stare at her with suspicion, so Saffi sighed and added, “I figured I could cut you some slack on your birthday. You only turn twenty-nine once.”
Taylor blinked in surprise. “You remembered?”
Saffi gave him a look.
“Sorry, I just figured you forgot when you said you didn’t want to come out with us.”
