Or, at least, Ben did, and he hoped Anna did, too. He was usually good at telling when women enjoyed being with him, but suddenly with Anna he had doubts. Was it because she was such a great actor that he wouldn’t know if she was pretending? Or because he wanted her to like being with him so much he didn’t know if he was just wanting it or it was actually true?

She could be anywhere right now, though, and she chose to be here. With him. He’d take it.

* * *

—

Anna smiled as she took another sip of her drink. Sitting outside on Ben’s deck drinking a cocktail with him was definitely better than sitting alone in her hotel room stressing about her future.

“So what’s up for you, after this shoot is over?” Ben asked.

Speaking of her future.

“I’m still kind of figuring that out now,” she said. “I have a lot of promo for Vigilantes coming up as soon as I get back to L.A., so I have to gear up for that. But also, there’s this film role I’m dying to get; I love the script, the director is incredible, and I’ve been wanting to work with her for years.”

He raised his eyebrows at her.

“So what’s the holdup, then?”

She sighed.

“The studio isn’t convinced I have enough box office-draw, or at least, that’s what they say.”

He put his drink down and looked at her.

“What do you think the real story is?”

She leaned back in her chair.

“ ‘Not enough box office-draw’ in Hollywood usually means ‘not white.’ It’s so frustrating that no matter how hard I work or how on top of things I am or how good I am, I’ll always be second best. They’ll always want a white actress first; they’ll always pay her more money than they would have paid me. Because, you see, they’re ‘universal’ and I’m not. And yes, sure, their movies do make more money at the box office than mine do, but is that because people like them more? Is it because they’re white and I’m Black and people automatically like me less because of that? Is it because the studios believe in them more and promote them more and it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy? Who knows. Likely a combination of everything.” She sighed again. “Sorry for the rant; this has obviously been building up.”

Ben shook his head.

“No apology necessary. Rant as much as you want. That fucking sucks.”

She laughed and took another sip of her cocktail.

“It fucking sucks indeed. I really want it, though, so I’ll do whatever it takes to get it. I’m hoping that I make a splash in Vigilantes, which would help a ton, but it’s kind of a faint hope—I only filmed a handful of scenes for that, and for all I know, it could end up being a bit part. I guess we’ll see. I’m having breakfast with my manager tomorrow; hopefully he’ll have some ideas.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” Ben said.

She grinned at him.

“Please do.”

She was glad she’d come here today. Just talking about the stuff she was most stressed about with Ben made her feel calmer.

Why was that? She still barely knew him, even though it no longer felt like that after that trip to Palm Springs. She realized that she’d talked to Ben a lot about herself and her family during the drive to and from Palm Springs, but he hadn’t told her much about his. She knew he had a brother he was close to—that was all.

“Do you see your family often?” she asked him. “Your brother is in the Bay Area, you said—are your parents here, too?”

Ben nodded.

“Yeah, my mom lives in the East Bay. I see her every few weeks or so. At least once a month she demands that my brother and I come over for Sunday dinner.” He shook his head, but with a wry smile on his face. “She drives me up a wall, but she’s hilarious. I never miss her summons for dinner, unless I’m out of town.”

“What does she do?” Anna asked. She was suddenly very curious about Ben—who his family was, how he came to be the person he was. He’d mentioned his mom, but not his dad, but in that way where she didn’t think she could ask why.

He drained his drink and set it on the table.

“She’s a nurse. She has been my whole life. Or, at least, as long as I can remember. After . . . when I was little, she doubled up on her shifts for a while—Theo and I spent a lot of time with our cousins then. Once we got old enough to stay home alone, she would take the night shifts, which meant she was always there in the morning to get us ready for school and then again when we got home to supervise our homework. I was always sort of a class clown, but I never wanted to get in so much trouble that the principal would call my mom, because I knew if anything woke her up during the day, she’d be on the warpath.”

He smiled reminiscently. Anna pictured Ben, twenty years younger. She could see him as a teen, with dancing eyes and a mischievous smile. His mom probably had her hands full.

“Has she thought about retiring? I only ask because I keep trying to convince my parents to retire, and it’s not going well.”

Ben laughed.

“From the glimpse I got of your parents, I can imagine that. And she talks about retirement sometimes, but sort of in that pipe-dream way. Like ‘when I retire, your aunt Leslie and I are going to spend a month in the Virgin Islands’ kind of way. Nothing serious, at least not yet.” He paused. “Though maybe she’s said more to Theo. He’s always been the responsible one. I should ask him.”

He didn’t seem to have any bitterness in his voice when he made reference to his brother as the “responsible one.” That was nice—she knew too many people who had been scarred by how their parents tagged them and their siblings as kids.

He picked up her empty glass and raised an eyebrow at her, and she nodded. He stood, taking both of their glasses with him, and walked back inside. She followed him.

“What does your brother do?” she asked.

He opened the freezer and pulled out ice cubes.

“He’s the spokesman for the mayor of Berkeley,” he said. “Great for me—with his help, I got the permits for all of the filming for this shoot much faster than anyone predicted.”

She watched him pour liquor into the shaker.

“Big brother pulled some strings for you?”

He shook a finger at her.

“Never. My brother is far too by the book for that. But he knows everyone, so he told me who to contact, and as soon as I mentioned that he was my brother, everyone was all ‘Ohhh, I love Theo! Anything to help out his brother!’ ” He stopped for a minute, the bourbon bottle in his hand. “I guess I should probably tell him that.”