She looked at the screen just in case. Penny. Okay, fine.

“Hey,” she said as she picked up the phone.

“You looked incredible last night!” Penny said. “That dress was different from what you usually wear, and I loved it. Not that I don’t usually like your dresses, well, except for that time at the Golden Globes.”

Everyone brought up that fucking dress she’d worn to the Golden Globes.

“Look, that one was an experiment, okay? It didn’t go well, we don’t need to ever speak of it again.”

“I know, I know,” Penny said. “I’m just mentioning it in the context of how last time you experimented was bad but this time was great.”

Anna dropped down on the bed.

“This one was great, wasn’t it? I loved it. Ben helped me pick it out.” And then she burst into tears.

“What did he do? Anna, do you need me to come there? Do you need me to destroy him? What do you need?”

She wiped her face with her pillowcase.

“He told me he loved me.”

Penny was silent for a few seconds.

“And what did you say?”

Anna knew she was going to ask that.

“Nothing! He caught me so off guard, Penny! I had no idea what to say. He just sprang this on me last night—I didn’t expect it at all. I have so much going on right now, nothing like this occurred to me. I tried to say something, but it wasn’t going to be . . . and I’m sure he could tell that because he stopped me. Anyway, this morning, things were weird, and now he’s gone and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole.”

See, this was why she only ever got involved with other actors—there were no surprises with them.!

“You aren’t the world’s biggest asshole,” Penny said. “There are many people vying for that title, and you’re nowhere near them. What do you mean, things were weird this morning?”

Talking to Penny always made her feel better.

“I don’t know, we talked and drank coffee and stuff while we waited for his car to come, but . . . it was . . . off. But he didn’t say it again, and he didn’t seem like he was, I don’t know, thinking it. Maybe he didn’t mean it?” Anna pictured Ben’s face, right before he’d turned and left her house. She must have just imagined that look on his face. “He probably didn’t mean it.”

“Do you think he meant it?” Penny asked.

“He couldn’t have. At first I thought he meant it. Last night, I mean. It just came out of nowhere; I was so shocked, I didn’t know what to think, or how to react. But now I think he must have been just caught up in all the glamour of the premiere and the Hollywood thing and seeing me on-screen and being with me at the party and all of that. Or maybe this is all because of last week: he thinks I’m weak and fragile, he just wants to take care of me. I never should have told him about last year in the first place—men always like that kind of thing; it makes them feel strong.”

Yes, that made more sense. He couldn’t have meant it. She got up to go get some water.

“Okay, but are you sure he’s like that? He didn’t seem that type,” Penny said. “You guys seemed to really get along well. Are you sure that you don’t think you—”

“Penny, Ben’s great, I liked him a lot, and yes, we got along great! He’s the first guy I slept with in over a year, of course I feel happy, warm feelings for him, especially since he was so kind, so fun, so . . .” She stopped, and shook her head. “Also, the sex was fantastic! But that was just sex! This thing with Ben was just an interlude, a way to get me from point A to B, A being Anxious Anna still recovering from everything, who hadn’t let a man see her naked in over a year, B being a Bad Bitch who stars in box office hits and gets magazine covers and beckons at whatever man she wants and he comes running, throwing his clothes off in the process.”

By this time they were both laughing.

“A Bad Bitch?” Penny said.

“Look, it was alliterative, okay? You know what I mean! Him falling in love with me was not in the plan! We both knew what this was when we went into it! And yes, sure, Ben makes—made—me feel incredible! But those weren’t real feelings, that was just good sex emotion! I trusted him to know the difference!”

Penny was still giggling.

“Okay,” she said when she recovered. “You know, look. You are Anna Gardiner, international movie star, after all. Maybe the good sex emotion you give out is just that much more convincing than other people. Ben probably does know the difference for normal women, but for you, he was just so overcome in the moment. Maybe he didn’t actually mean it; he just thought he did. But he’ll get over it fast.”

Yes! See? This made sense!

“Penelope Malone, you’re a genius. Of course that’s it. See, I should have called you right away.”

Oh no, she shouldn’t have said that. Now Penny would gloat . . .

“I am a genius, as a matter of fact, and you should have called me right away. Anything else you need me to solve for you?”

Anna just laughed.

Penny’s voice softened.

“No, really, I mean it. Are you okay? You know I’m here for you, no matter what, right?”

She did know that.

“Yeah. I’m okay. But, I’ve been thinking about . . .” She shook her head. “No, it’s nothing. Never mind, forget I said anything.”

“Anna.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell you, but I’m not going to do this. It’s just that I keep thinking about something Ben said a few weeks ago—not about all of this. But I was saying something about all of the charities who ask me for money, and he said maybe I should do more, instead of just sending a check. Like my dad has been wanting me to do for forever. And Ben suggested a mental health charity, help them raise money and reach out to people, raise awareness, that kind of thing. But. That seems . . .”

“Hard?” Penny finished for her. “And that you might have to talk about things you don’t want to talk about? Yeah, probably. But if you keep thinking about it, maybe there’s a reason?”

Anna closed her eyes.

“Maybe. But I’m still not going to do it.”

Penny’s voice sounded tentative.

“Will you be mad if I say I really liked Ben?”

Anna sighed.

“No. I really liked Ben, too.”

Twenty -One

Ben walked into Dr. Lindsey’s office the following Wednesday. Since he’d last seen Anna, he’d worked multiple twelve-hour days—including one on that Thursday when he’d gone straight to the office from the airport, and one on Saturday, prepping for the sneaker pitch. Sunday he’d only worked five hours, and with the rest of his time that day he’d cleaned his apartment from top to bottom. He’d planned to reinstall all of his dating apps, to go out on a bunch of dates, to sleep with someone else, to get Anna out of his mind and soul. But he hadn’t done it.