< <
"Hegde is one to watch!"&nbsp;&ndash;Amy Lea, international bestselling author of <Exes and O&rsquo;s<
<<
< <A young woman with Bollywood roots hires a barista to act as her boyfriend for her cousin&rsquo;s wedding&mdash;only to learn you can&rsquo;t fake chemistry like theirs&mdash;in this desi romance from the author of <Match Me If You Can<

Harsha Godbole has never felt love from her family, but she&rsquo;s always been surrounded by their Bollywood business mogul wealth. Now back in Bangalore after studying in America, Harsha is ready to start her adult life <without <their money. But that becomes impossible when everything she&rsquo;s worked so hard for comes crumbling down. Fearful of showing up to her cousin&rsquo;s upcoming wedding as a failure&mdash;and worse, a <single <failure&mdash;Harsha decides to put her trust fund to good use . . .&nbsp;

Veer Kannan does everything for his family. He even gave up his dreams of becoming a Bollywood star to get a more consistent gig . . . although working as a barista wasn&rsquo;t really the big break he was hoping for. It&rsquo;s a humble life, but a happy one, nonetheless. Then financial aid falls through for his brother&rsquo;s first year in business school, so now Veer needs to come up with a large sum of money, and fast.

Harsha&rsquo;s outlandish plan to hire her favorite barista&nbsp;as her fake boyfriend for the weekend-long wedding bash is received surprisingly well by Veer, who hopes this will be his ticket to Bollywood. But Harsha and Veer get way more than they bargained&nbsp;for in this heartwarming journey to finding unexpected&nbsp;love and courage.

Autorentext

Swati Hegde is the author of Can't Help Faking in Love and Match Me If You Can, as well as a freelance editor, mindset coach, and self-proclaimed coffee shop enthusiast who lives in Bangalore, India. She can often be found at the nearest café with a hot mug of tea. She looks forward to a long career bringing Indian stories and voices to light.

Klappentext

**
"Hegde is one to watch!" –Amy Lea, international bestselling author of Exes and O’s

A young woman with Bollywood roots hires a barista to act as her boyfriend for her cousin’s wedding—only to learn you can’t fake chemistry like theirs—in this desi romance from the author of Match Me If You Can**

Harsha Godbole has never felt love from her family, but she’s always been surrounded by their Bollywood business mogul wealth. Now back in Bangalore after studying in America, Harsha is ready to start her adult life without their money. But that becomes impossible when everything she’s worked so hard for comes crumbling down. Fearful of showing up to her cousin’s upcoming wedding as a failure—and worse, a single failure—Harsha decides to put her trust fund to good use . . . 

Veer Kannan does everything for his family. He even gave up his dreams of becoming a Bollywood star to get a more consistent gig . . . although working as a barista wasn’t really the big break he was hoping for. It’s a humble life, but a happy one, nonetheless. Then financial aid falls through for his brother’s first year in business school, so now Veer needs to come up with a large sum of money, and fast.

Harsha’s outlandish plan to hire her favorite barista as her fake boyfriend for the weekend-long wedding bash is received surprisingly well by Veer, who hopes this will be his ticket to Bollywood. But Harsha and Veer get way more than they bargained for in this heartwarming journey to finding unexpected love and courage.

Leseprobe
Chapter One

“Welcome to the real world. It sucks. You’re gonna love it!”

—Monica Geller, Friends

Harsha Godbole had never been dumped like this before.

She sat across from her now ex-boyfriend during their lunch date, a forkful of spaghetti midway to her mouth, as he explained that he was ending their three-month relationship to marry a complete stranger.

“I really like you, I do,” Shashank insisted, sipping his iced americano. “But I was just introduced to a prospective match, and with all of my parents’ life experience, they probably know enough to make the right choice for me, don’t you think?”

“Uh-huh.” Harsha set her fork down and wiped her mouth with a napkin, her lips pressed together. The men she’d dated in the past had given her far simpler reasons—There’s no spark; I’m not ready for a serious relationship; Your family is too much to handle—but to be rejected by a thirty-year-old man because he was letting his parents choose his bride? What decade was he stuck in, the 1980s? And now that she thought about it, why was he meeting prospective brides while still dating her?

Shashank looked at his wristwatch and did a double take. “Shit, I have a meeting in ten. I hope we’re good? No hard feelings?”

It would have been funny if it weren’t for the dread slowly sinking into the pit of her stomach.

Harsha forced herself to smile. “Of course. Thanks for lunch.” She grabbed her purse and laptop bag and strode out of the Italian restaurant, refusing to turn around and check if he was looking her way. She didn’t need any more disappointment.

She tugged on a stray coil of her curly black hair as she walked through the trafficfilled streets of Bangalore while cars honked and auto rickshaw drivers cursed at each other. If only the noise would drown out the fearful thoughts crowding her mind. Maybe moving here had been a mistake. Sure, it was cheaper than living in California, and there was no way she would move back home to Mumbai, but now she was not only friendless in this strange new city but also single. Alone. And—to top it all off—unemployed.

Her best friend from college, Sasha, would say she was being hard on herself. After all, Harsha was getting through life as a struggling freelance photographer, armed with just her camera, a steady hand, and an eye for beauty. Her double degree in sociology and photography from Berkeley had proved useless in getting a job in Bangalore, the city of software engineers, so she was relying on her camera to make her some money until she could figure something out. Research online promised her that Bangalore’s urban, cosmopolitan vibes would feel familiar to her Mumbai roots, but with better weather and cheaper rent. Though the cool breeze was a constant, freelance jobs were few and far between. She had landed her last gig at a college graduation only because her aunt knew a professor there. That was two weeks ago, and her bank account was depleting by the minute. Her coffee addiction didn’t help.

Sighing, Harsha pushed open the glass door to Sunstag Café, the only place that felt anywhere close to safe right now. She ignored the tinkling of the wind chimes and the “Welcome to Sunstag!” greetings of the baristas she saw every day and stormed upstairs to her usual spot by the wall.

“Well, you don’t look happy. All good?” Veer, her favorite barista, said, quirking an eyebrow as he passed by her table with an empty tray.

“Yeah, I just—” Harsha’s shoulders slumped, but she stopped herself from saying more. He was a barista, not a bartender. He wasn’t going to listen to her sob story and offer sage words of advice. “Never mind.”

Besides, the only thing he knew about her was her coffee order, although he teased her every day, acting like he didn’t.

Veer shrugged, brown eyes bright and that goofy smile on his face like a…