He patted her on the shoulder.

“I know, but isn’t that how we got into this predicament in the first place, where we need to get you extra press to pump up your box office draw? Remember: control the narrative. Eyes on the prize, Anna, and the prize is that Varon film, and I know how much you want it.”

He was right about that. But there must be another way.

“I can’t—”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “If you get bored by this guy—or if you’re already getting bored—you won’t have to string him along for more than a month or so. Hey, when does the shoot end?”

She definitely wasn’t getting bored by Ben.

“The shoot ends tomorrow, if all goes well,” she said. “Despite some delays, we’re right on schedule. I’m supposed to go back to L.A. on Saturday night. But, Simon—”

“Excellent. Tomorrow night: bring him to the swanky rooftop bar here. I’ll make sure a photographer is there to get snaps of you two looking cozy. Then get him to come down to visit you in L.A.—you can give him the ultimate Hollywood star kind of visit. You’ll bring him along to the Vigilantes premiere; that’ll get you a ton of buzz. You can get rid of him after that.”

This would never work. Anna opened her mouth to tell Simon that, when he checked his watch and jumped up.

“I have to run. Remember, tomorrow night at the bar. We’ll text about the timing. I’ll arrange everything.” He gave her a hug. “What a productive meeting this was. I’m so glad I was early.”

He left in a flurry, with Anna staring speechless at the door.

Twelve

Ben slowly got dressed the next morning before work. Would today be the last time he’d ever see Anna in person? Probably. Almost definitely, he was pretty sure.

She’d been weird yesterday. Not in the morning, not during and after their great suitcase caper through the streets of San Francisco. But afterward, when they’d both been at the shoot. He knew that obviously they couldn’t let anyone know they were sleeping together—or had slept together? He wished he knew.

Probably the latter, because she’d barely looked at him all day. Before—before Palm Springs—they’d been friendly on set, laughing and joking around sometimes, or even just smiling at each other when something funny happened. Even after Palm Springs, even though Anna had kind of avoided him on set when she was around him, she’d treated him like nothing had ever happened between them, like they hadn’t taken two long drives where they talked about their families and relationships and struggles—well, mostly she had, but still—and had a night and morning of fucking fantastic sex. That she’d been able to go back to treating him exactly the same as before had stung, even though he’d understood why she’d done it, and he’d tried—and, he’d thought, mostly succeeded—to treat her the same as he had before, too.

But the day before, he’d arrived on set expecting her to have a shared twinkle in her eye with him when they saw each other for the first time after the great suitcase adventure; but she’d barely even glanced at him when he’d walked into the room, and had gone right back to responding to whatever her hairstylist was saying. He’d tried to catch her eye a few times throughout the day, even though he knew he shouldn’t, but nothing worked. Did she not want him to assume they’d see each other again—alone—before she went back to L.A.? If that was the case, fine, he was clear on where she stood, but did she really have to ice him out like this? Despite . . . everything, he’d thought they were friends.

He’d almost texted her when he got home the night before. He’d gone so far as to pull up her name on his phone. Their last texts had been the suitcase pictures that Maddie had taken in the hotel lobby—he and Theo both looked like they were desperately trying to keep straight faces, which was accurate, and you could just barely see the flash of Anna’s yellow dress from the side of the suitcase where they’d left the zipper open a bit so she could breathe.

But he hadn’t done it. Anna had so far made it very clear when she wanted him—he wouldn’t push her.

When he got to the set, he told himself he wasn’t going to look around for her, but he did it anyway. She was over at the coffee table, filling up her cup and laughing and chatting with the caterers. Why did she have to be so fucking nice to everyone? This would be much easier if she was an unfriendly nightmare like the actor in the last big ad campaign he’d worked on.

And why was she being so nice to everyone but him?

But just as he thought that, she looked around and saw him. She smiled at him, that same smile that had made him drop his clipboard on that first day, and he smiled back. Of course he did. He walked straight over to her.

“Morning. Ready for the last day?”

What a stupid, boring, unoriginal thing to say to her.

She smiled back at him anyway.

“A little ready to go back to the sunny skies of L.A.—and to be back at my house, instead of a hotel room—but I’m sad it’s the last day. We’ve had fun together, haven’t we?”

She gestured to the room like she was talking about the whole crew and had a completely straight face, so he had no idea if she meant that in a universal “this shoot was so fun” kind of way, or if she meant that about her and him, specifically.

“Um. Yeah, we have,” he said.

That time she grinned at him, and raised her eyebrows just a touch, and he grinned back. She took a step closer to him.

“Well, why don’t we . . .”

Gene interrupted.

“Oh, Anna, great, you’re ready. Can we test the lighting on you for a second? We had to make some adjustments today. Hi, Ben.”

Ben held back a sigh. He even managed to smile.

“Hey, Gene.”

What had Anna been about to say? “Well, why don’t we . . .” What? “Sneak off to the bathroom for sex?” “Go back to your place again tonight?” “Never see each other again after we leave the set today?” It could have been anything!

But instead of grilling her about that, he stepped to the side, while she walked off with Gene, and poured himself a cup of coffee. Not that he needed it now—that tiny interaction with Anna had him wide awake.

He stood out of everyone’s way as they tested the lighting and got everything ready for the final day. His role for the day was mostly a silent one—he and Gene had worked together so closely throughout all of this he knew he didn’t really have to be there, but there was no way he would have missed the last day.

He scrolled through his phone as he stood there and watched, not really paying attention. Until he saw the email from Dawn.