She was absolutely not going to start something with Ben Stephens. Yes, she hadn’t slept with anyone since last year, since the anxiety attacks had started, and okay, yes, she was ready for that drought to end. Yes, she’d been flirting with Ben since the moment she’d met him, but that was just the fun kind of flirting, where everyone knew it didn’t mean anything. She’d had a firm policy since the very beginning of her career to never get involved with men she was working with—the Hollywood rumor mill was too vicious for her to get tangled up in it, at least, not on purpose. And sure, Ben wasn’t a costar or anything, but they were still working together. No, she was absolutely not going to start something with Ben Stephens.

But it was really fun to think about.

* * *

—

Ben watched Anna as she chatted with the director. Damn, she was even more incredible than he’d thought initially. And he’d initially thought she was hot as hell. But he’d sort of assumed she’d be difficult, just because of the nature of her job and her status, but she didn’t seem to be like that at all. She definitely carried herself like she was the star, which she was, but she was friendly to everyone there, and she seemed to be able to roll with the punches in a way he hadn’t expected.

Okay, he had to focus and stop looking at her. This job was the biggest one he’d ever worked on at this level, and he wanted to kill it. Because if he did good work on this campaign, that was the entry point to do more work like this, and that was his goal. Which was why he had been up since well before sunrise and had been here on set since before the crew arrived, which was not the norm for him.

Plus, this was the thing he wanted to focus on, not the second email he’d gotten from Dawn the day before. He’d ignored the first one, in the hopes he wouldn’t have to deal with it, but she’d sent another one—just as friendly and cheerful as the first time, with a note that maybe her first email had gotten stuck in his spam folder.

Wait. Were these emails some sort of precursor to hearing from his dad? He definitely didn’t want that to happen. Shit. He’d have to email her back to make this stop, wouldn’t he?

Okay, he’d figure out how to do that tonight.

It was a very long day, with many takes and long waits and repositioning and breaks to eat or fix Anna’s hair or change the camera because of a cloud or change it back because the sun was out or lose perfect takes because of an airplane going overhead, but finally, after many hours, Ben and the director agreed they had what they needed, at least for the day.

He glanced around at the crew as they all packed up to leave.

“Drinks?”

Everyone nodded forcefully. Yes, that was exactly how he felt, too.

Ben grabbed his bag and went over to check in with Vanessa. It had gotten chillier on the beach as the day had gone on, and everyone on set had bundled up in their hoodies and vests. Well, everyone except Anna, who kept having to run in and out of the icy water with just a cotton dress on. She hadn’t even complained. He looked over at her now, a cardigan wrapped tightly around herself as she said good-bye to the director.

She looked up and saw him looking at her. Oh, awesome, perfect. She walked over to him.

“What’s this I hear about everyone going to get drinks? Am I invited?”

Was she invited? Um, she would have been if he’d thought she’d wanted to come.

He fought back a laugh.

“Yes, Anna Gardiner, I have a feeling you’re invited anywhere you damn well want to be, and yes, of course you’re invited to come out with us for drinks. Apologies for not making that clear; I assumed you’d be busy.”

She grinned at him and shrugged.

“My busy plans tonight involved the couch in my hotel suite and room service, and as much as I love room service, I’ll be in that hotel for what, two weeks? I have a feeling I’ll get to know that menu very well.”

Was Anna Gardiner really going to go out for drinks with them tonight? He had to tell Theo this part. He needed to read that fucking NDA again.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Oh, a place not too far away, it’s . . . Do you need a ride?”

She slid her phone out of her bag and glanced at it.

“I think my driver is here, but if he drops me off at a bar, it might be kind of . . . conspicuous. So sure, I’ll take a ride, if that’s okay.”

Which is how he ended up giving Anna Gardiner a ride to a dive bar.

When they got in the car, she pulled her hair into a knot on top of her head and wrapped a big scarf around her neck.

“Is that your disguise?” he asked.

If it was, it wasn’t going to work—she looked exactly like Anna Gardiner, just with her hair up and a scarf around her neck. Honestly, the scarf made her look even more glamorous than she had before.

“Not exactly,” she said. “If people recognize me, they’re going to recognize me, but also I don’t think anyone knows yet that I’m in San Francisco right now, which is why it’s probably one of the safest times for me to come out with you guys. This is more just to give me a little warning—people will have to stop and think and make sure it’s me, and then I know it’s coming. Though . . . if you can help me get a seat in a dark corner, that’ll help even more.”

He grinned at her.

“Didn’t I tell you that you could count on me?”

When they got to the bar, some of the crew was already there and had commandeered a big table in the back. The director was already in the poorly lit seat against the wall, but Ben gestured to him, with a nod at Anna. He was prepared to say more but luckily, he didn’t have to—Gene got up and moved over to the corresponding position at the other end of the table.

Anna slid into the seat and blinked at Ben.

“How did that happen? What other magic do you have?”

He winked at her and dropped his bag into the seat next to hers.

“What did I tell you? Also, I’m headed to the bar—what can I get you?”

She shook her head and pulled out her wallet. Oh God, was she going to be mad that he’d tried to buy her a drink? That’s just what they did at these kinds of happy hours . . . but in retrospect, he should probably stop to think before he did something like that with someone like Anna.

She handed him a stack of twenties.

“I’ll take a rain check on that, but can you get a few pitchers for the table from me, please? I’d do it myself, but . . .”

He shook his head.

“No, of course you can’t. No problem.”

Had she meant that about the rain check, or . . .