She sat up and tried to clear the sleep out of her voice.

“It’s not official, but . . . you got it,” Simon said when she answered.

She froze.

“I got it? IT? I got it?”

Simon laughed.

“The Varon film. Yes. Maggie should get the official call for you in the next few days.” He laughed again. “But you know me, I wanted to be the one to share the news first.”

Of course he did.

Anna dropped back down on her pillows.

“I can’t believe it. After everything. I got it.”

After Ben. After she’d broken Ben’s heart, just for this. And she’d gotten it. Was it worth it?

Yes, of course it was. Plus, hadn’t she realized she hadn’t really broken Ben’s heart, that he hadn’t meant it?

“Also,” Simon said, “we need to talk about the rollout. Once they announce this, everyone is going to want to talk to you, so I thought we should strategize about this first, so we can have a plan. Maybe come up with some reporters you’ve liked in the past, and do the interview with them. You can slide in there that you’re single now, too, so we can close that whole chapter. Oh, speaking of, I forgot to ask—did everything go okay there? With the end of it, I mean.”

Why had he asked her that?

“Oh yeah, everything went fine. No problems.” That wasn’t exactly a lie—Simon wouldn’t consider Ben’s heartbreak a problem he had to be concerned with.

“Good. That all went much better than I thought it would. Anyway, about the reporters—you liked that woman who interviewed you for Vogue awhile ago, right?”

Anna had liked her, as a matter of fact.

“Oh yeah, she was great. Let’s get her, if we can.” She and Simon came up with a list of a few more potential journalists for the interview.

She took a deep breath right before they got off the phone.

“Oh, and Simon. Can you get me some names of a handful of good charities that deal with mental health that might need some help?”

There was silence on the phone for a moment.

“Are you sure about this, Anna?”

She closed her eyes.

“No. But get me the names anyway, okay?”

A week later, a red sports car pulled up to Anna’s house. A Black woman with her hair up in a topknot got out and waved to someone inside, who drove off.

“Nice ride,” Anna said, when she opened the front door. “Hi, Nik, good to see you again.”

Nik Paterson grinned.

“Hi, Anna. It’s not my car—mine broke down this morning, so I had to hitch a ride.”

“Coffee?” Anna asked Nik as they walked toward the kitchen. “I seem to remember that you drink as much as I do.”

Nik laughed.

“You have a good memory. And yeah, I’d love some coffee.”

They made small talk about the weather, her new kitchen—she’d moved into this house since the last time she’d talked to Nik—and car disasters they’d experienced.

Once they had coffee in hand, Anna walked her out to the backyard. It wasn’t too hot yet today, so she figured it would be nicer to do this out there than inside. She already had—Florence already had—sparkling water out there waiting for them.

“So.” Nik took out her phone, a notebook, and a tape recorder. “Do you mind if I record this?”

“Not at all,” Anna said. She took a sip of coffee, hoping it would give her courage. Despite what she’d said to that charity yesterday, she still didn’t have to do this. They would understand, Simon would make polite excuses, she’d write a big check.

“Let’s talk about this movie you’re doing with Liz Varon. This sounds like the perfect vehicle for you.”

That could be empty flattery, but Anna didn’t think so. She’d read some of Nik’s other pieces.

“Thanks, that’s just how I feel,” she said. “As soon as I read the script, I called Liz. I felt like the role was mine from the first page, that I wouldn’t be complete until I played her, and until I got to work with Liz. I really can’t wait. It’s going to be tough, but I’m ready for it.”

They talked about the role more, and then Anna’s role in Vigilantes. Anna was very diplomatic about her work there, and Nik gave her a knowing look about it but let it pass. Nik knew this business as well as she did; she understood.

“What was filming that role like?” Nik asked her. “There were so many demands on you then, especially following your Oscar nomination—you filmed three movies back to back to back, didn’t you?”

Anna nodded.

“I did, in three different locations. It was . . .” She looked at Nik’s friendly, open expression. “It was really hard on me, actually. I’ve had . . . I’ve experienced anxiety for a long time, though for a lot of my life I didn’t realize what that was, I didn’t have the language to explain why my stomach hurt like that, why I could barely function some days. When I was a kid, my parents didn’t know how to deal with it. I think . . . you know, we don’t talk about mental health enough. My dad is a minister; we didn’t talk about therapy when I was a kid, just prayer. So I just thought that if I pushed on and worked harder and ignored my stress and anxiety, I’d get over it, and it would all be fine.”

Nik gave her a small smile.

“And that didn’t work out well?”

“Not at all!” Anna said, and they both laughed. “After . . . during, I should say, during that filming, I struggled a lot. I seemed fine on set, I don’t think anyone noticed, but inside . . . it was rough. Finally, after filming was over, I . . .” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I haven’t really talked about this with a lot of people.”

Nik’s voice was gentle.

“It’s okay. This stuff is hard, I know.”

Anna nodded. She opened her eyes and continued.

“After the filming was over, I had a real crisis. I think having to go there every day and be around people kept me from thinking about everything. But then I was just alone with my thoughts and it was all . . . really hard.”

She stopped talking and took a long breath. Nik didn’t say anything, but the silence was an easy one.

“I’m glad I had my family—they really helped get me through the past year.” She smiled. “My dad has evolved a lot—now he both prays for me and helped me find a great therapist. Therapy has helped a lot. And my friends were wonderful. Ben’s been so supportive. Now I know that when my anxiety gets bad in the future, I won’t feel so lost about what to do. Because this is a hard business, you know that, and I’m glad I know what I need to do to keep myself well.” She wiped her eyes. “But it’s not just people like me—there are a lot of people who need support to get through the hard times, and aren’t as fortunate as I am. And as we both know, health care is inaccessible for so many people in America, and mental health care even more so. And that’s why I’m going to be working with an organization here in L.A. that concentrates on getting free and low-cost mental health services to people—especially people in the Black community—who don’t have the resources I did. I want everyone to be able to have the tools and support I had—that I have—and I want to help combat the stigma against getting help for mental health. This feels like a great way to start.”