She liked the way he asked that—he brought up her anxiety like he was talking about a sprained ankle or something—no hushed voice or expression like he was discussing something bad or like she was some fragile being who might fall apart. But also, she was glad he’d thought about it and had checked in on her.

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” she said. “I did start to panic for a second in the lobby, but it didn’t last long. Mostly, it was just fun, which I was grateful for. I haven’t relaxed like that and had fun with”—she gestured to the room—“all of this, the fun part of being ‘Anna Gardiner,’ for a while.”

There was a knock at her door. Probably room service, bringing something they’d forgotten.

Anna got up and looked through the peephole. Shit, Simon was here already? Okay, okay, she’d just have to play this cool. She could do that. She put a surprised smile on her face and opened the door.

“Simon! What are you doing here? It’s only seven fifteen!”

Her manager strutted into the suite, looking very proud of himself.

“I told you I’m in town for my husband’s sister’s wedding, right? Well, I had been convinced to go over to his other sister’s house and consult on the flower arrangements before breakfast—I do not know why they couldn’t have me do that last night, but Aidan’s family is like that, you know—but his nephews were awake and running around, so I made sure to snap out my orders—sorry, advice—on the flowers as fast as possible. Nothing against children in general, it’s just that those children are invariably . . . sticky.” He shuddered. “And they always want to touch me, and this shirt is not for three-year-olds to . . . Oh! Good morning.”

He’d gotten all the way into the room, chatting merrily to Anna, before he looked up and saw Ben, placidly eating a piece of bacon.

“Good morning.” Ben stood up. “Anna, looks like you have some business to talk about, and I should take off anyway. Thanks for breakfast.”

Half of her was grateful to him for leaving right away and making this easy on her, but the other half of her wanted to stop him, tell him to stay. But she knew she couldn’t, not with Simon there.

“Thanks to you, too,” she said, her voice as bland and businesslike as she could make it. “Simon, this is Ben Stephens, he’s the lead at the ad agency for the phone shoot. We were just talking about the plans for the rollout of the ad campaign. Ben, this is Simon Drake, my manager.”

Ben shook Simon’s hand and saluted to her.

“See you on set,” he said before he disappeared out the door.

Simon took the top off of his travel coffee mug and picked up the pot of coffee on the room service tray.

“I knew you’d have plenty of coffee for me, bless you. How’s this shoot going, anyway?”

Oh thank goodness, he’d bought it. Anna did not want to deal with Simon questioning her about Ben and her love life and everything else this morning. She must have pulled off the business-breakfast pretense.

She filled Simon in on the shoot and let him rant about Aidan’s sister’s atrocious wedding color scheme as they drained the pot of coffee.

“Now, before we discuss both Vigilantes and our strategy for getting you that Varon film, one quick question: How long have you been sleeping with . . . Ben, is it?”

Anna panicked for a split second but recovered quickly.

“Simon, are you at the point where you think I’m sleeping with every attractive man? We’re working together, remember? I don’t do that.”

Simon just smiled.

“I know you don’t do that, which is why I’m certain there’s a very good story to explain why you did it this time. And while I’d love to know it, you don’t need to tell me. I mean, if it’s really good, please tell me so I can leak it, but otherwise, I’ll make sure the press knows you fell for him after you wrapped the shoot. Oh, you’re an angel, this is going to be so good.”

Anna stood all the way up.

“After? The press? Simon, what the hell are you talking about?”

The man actually rubbed his hands together.

“Anna! Wasn’t this your plan all along? Don’t you see? This is just what we need for your Vigilantes promo! This is our answer to the Varon film problem! The studio doesn’t think you have enough star power to be a box office draw—the news of your secret relationship hitting the tabloids will show what a star you actually are! Everyone will be talking about you. All you need to do is keep this guy on a string—which won’t be hard, given the way he looked at you when he walked out of the room—and we’ve got a few good weeks of stories, maybe even more. Just in time for you to get the role.”

This definitely hadn’t been her plan all along. She didn’t want to drag Ben into all of this.

“Why not set me up with some actor slash fake boyfriend? Won’t that make my profile way higher?”

Simon held up a finger.

“I’ve obviously been putting out feelers about that, but—”

“What? You have?”

Simon looked exasperated.

“Of course I have. But the only people available are either not high-profile enough for you, or they’re assholes. And while I know you think I’d do anything for business, I’d never set you up with one of those guys.”

She was weirdly touched by that.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” she said. “But if I can’t date someone who isn’t high-profile enough for me, why would you want me to date Ben, who isn’t famous at all?”

Simon grinned.

“Oh, but true love gets headlines no matter what. Forbidden love? A secret relationship with an unknown? Especially one that attractive?” He closed his eyes. “Ahhh, the ways I’ll be able to spin this are just incredible.”

She needed to slow Simon down.

“Wait, but what if he doesn’t—”

Simon opened his eyes.

“Don’t worry—he obviously won’t know it’s fake! That’s far too dangerous, civilians don’t understand this stuff. Plus, what if he decided to make a little extra money and sell this story? That would be a nightmare. Just make him think you’re going to keep this on-set fling going after you go back to L.A., that you care so much about him, you want to make it work, blah blah blah. You’re a great actor—that’s the easy part.”

How was Simon starting to convince her of this? No, she couldn’t do this to Ben.

“Simon, this seems like a terrible idea, for so many reasons. And you know I don’t love talking about my personal life in the press.”