Anna thought about that for a second and then laughed.

“I’m sure Penny will.” She looked around for her phone. “Actually, I should let her know I’m okay. I don’t know if she saw any of that, but if she did, she’ll be freaking out.”

Ben went and grabbed her purse from where she’d dropped it by the front door.

“You text Penny; I’ll get you some water.”

Anna reached into her purse for her phone. Yes, Penny was freaking out. And yes, she was going to deal with the restaurant guy.

Fuck. Anna, are you ok?

I’m going to destroy this motherfucker

No, first I’m going to make sure everyone at tonight’s dinner loves the wine

Then I’m going to destroy this motherfucker. A food poisoning rumor should do it, I think

Or maybe rats, that one would be fun too

Tell me you’re ok

No really, tell me you’re ok

Anna, if you don’t fucking text me back

 

She should have thought to text Penny as soon as they got home.

I’m ok! I swear. I wasn’t. But Ben helped. And yes, we would both like you to destroy that motherfucker, please.

 

Ben came back from the kitchen with two glasses of water and two bottles of sparkling water.

“I thought you said you were never a waiter, but those are some waiter skills right there,” she said.

He set everything down on the table.

“Oh, I didn’t say I was never a waiter, just not here in L.A. I learned excellent skills that way. Did you check in with Penny?”

Anna drank half the glass of water in one gulp. She should go get her meds from her bedroom—why she’d stopped carrying them around with her in the first place, she had no idea—but she couldn’t move right now. In a few minutes.

“Yeah. She’s debating between a food-poisoning rumor or one about rats.”

Oh thank god. Thank Ben for me, will you?

 

Anna glanced down at her phone, then back up at him.

“Also, she says thank you. And, um. So do I.”

He took the glass of water from her and put it back on the coffee table.

“You’re welcome. But I didn’t do anything. You got yourself through that. I just drove us home.”

They both knew that wasn’t true, but Anna didn’t bother arguing.

He picked up his own glass of water.

“I know you hate changing plans, but I’d like to suggest we blow off the play tonight.”

Oh God, the play. She’d completely forgotten about that.

“Great idea. I can’t imagine anything I’d less like to do right now. Let me have Florence deal with that.”

She fired off a text.

“Okay. Great. We have all night. What do you want to do?”

He turned to her and shrugged.

“I’d be perfectly happy just sitting right here with you all night.”

Anna laughed.

“Ben, you’re a much better actor than I’ve given you credit for.”

He looked confused, then annoyed.

“What, you mean obviously I just want to have sex? Christ, Anna. That’s not the only thing I think about, you know. I was actually thinking about you.”

Oh. She’d hurt his feelings.

She reached for his hand.

“Ben.”

He looked at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just trying to . . . lighten the mood a little. I know you were thinking about me. I appreciate that, more than I can say.”

The tension around his jaw relaxed.

“Okay. Sorry.”

She hooked her finger under his chin and kissed him. It was long, and slow, and gentle, and it almost made her cry all over again.

He smoothed down the back of her hair.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t we both change into those great robes you have upstairs, and then we can watch a terrible movie and you can tell me all the gossip you know about it. And after that, if you’re hungry, I can make us pancakes for dinner.”

She took a long, deep breath.

“That sounds wonderful,” she said.

Nineteen

In the car ON THE WAY to Anna’s house on Wednesday morning, one sentence ran through Ben’s head on a loop.

You know that as soon as the premiere is over, she’s done with you.

He wanted to discount it, because Simon had said it to him, and Simon was the worst. Except it was true. In all of their conversations about their “relationship,” the premiere had been the end point. Anna needed him to be her public boyfriend for some paparazzi shots, and to show up with her on the red carpet, and that was all. Afterward, Ben’s services were no longer needed.

He’d thought that was fine, at the beginning. But now . . . now he didn’t know how to deal with this. It had been a long time since he’d had a connection with someone like he had with Anna, and he would miss it. He would miss her. And he would worry about her, and how she was doing.

She’d seemed fine on Sunday, after everything that had happened on Saturday. They’d done the stupid grocery store visit Sunday morning—even though he’d tried to talk her out of it, she’d insisted. She’d looked up into his eyes and smiled when she knew the cameras were on them, like nothing had ever been wrong. She hadn’t seemed to want to talk about everything on Sunday, and he hadn’t pushed. He’d been impressed with how fearless she’d been as they walked out of the store on Sunday afternoon. He supposed this was her job, and it was important for her to just get back to it. But God, he hated that she had to pretend away so many things just to survive.

But that wasn’t his business, he reminded himself. Because tonight was the premiere. And then afterward, this was done. They were done.

That would be fine. He’d been in a weird mood for the past few days, but that was probably because he’d been traveling so much, and his whole regular schedule was off. He would be happy to go back to his normal life—to get to have dinner with his mom and Theo on Sunday, to see Dr. Lindsey every Wednesday, even though he’d been avoiding her for the past two weeks—to throw himself back into things like work, and dating, like he had before. He’d slept with the same woman and only the same woman for almost two whole months now. He needed some variety. Yes. Variety would be good.

When he got to Anna’s house, Florence let him in.