Love Scene, Take Two

by Alex Evansley

  Bennett rolls her lips back between her teeth to make sure she doesn’t say the first reason that pops in her head. “Just letting it all sink in,” she says.

  “Well, what do you think so far?”

  That this is a bunch of bullshit.

  “That this is a bunch of information to process.”

  Burt snorts. “I mean, it’s kind of a no-brainer, wouldn’t you say? Teddy?”

  “I guess, unless it makes her uncomfortable,” Teddy says. “And if it does, then I’m definitely not doing it.”

  How chivalrous.

  “Guys, level with me here,” Burt says. “This is a marketing dream! It’s not like I’m asking you to marry each other. Teddy, you even said that everyone at the hospital didn’t question it when you told them you were Bennett’s boyfriend. That’s how these rumors get started! And with all that speculation comes people searching for answers, which will ultimately lead them back to this movie.”

  Bennett frowns. As the author, she should be on board with anything that will help the story reach as many people as possible. But this is offering up courtside seats to anyone who wants to watch whatever’s going on between her and Teddy, and Bennett doesn’t even know what’s going on between her and Teddy.

  “I want people to see this movie because they’re interested in the storyline,” she says, irritated that she has to speak over a lump forming in her throat. “Not because they think I’m hooking up with the lead actor thanks to some cheap marketing ploy.”

  “You mean free marketing ploy, Bennett. That’s the point,” Burt argues. “And so what if it’s cheap? It doesn’t matter what gets asses in those movie seats opening weekend. As long as people are there, who cares?”

  Bennett can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Are you kidding? It matters because—”

  “Bennett,” Teddy cuts across her, his tone pleading. “I know it sounds bad between the lines, but you gotta look at the bigger picture here. This works. I’ve seen it done before. Regardless of how shitty it sounds, Burt’s onto something, and at the end of the day it can only help, you know?”

  Bennett looks directly at Teddy.

  “I’m surprised you’re even on board with this, Teddy, since we all know how much you love to be secretive about this type of shit,” she snaps, and she expects some kind of recoil from him—wants some kind of recoil, actually—but all she gets is a slow, disappointed expression that makes her want to throw more cheap shots until she gets what she’s looking for.

  Burt shakes his head. “You’re being a little irrational right now, Bennett. I don’t know why you’re so against this, but I think we should talk about it again after you’ve had a day or two to think about it.”

  Bennett sits there and glares at the top of the table for what seems like an unnecessarily long amount of time. It’s childish, yeah, but so is the reason they’re having this talk in the first place. And the fact that Teddy agrees with it makes it a million times worse.

  “God,” she finally exhales, dragging a hand across her forehead and hitting the damn bandage over her eyebrow again. “You seriously think this will work.”

  Burt nods. “Yeah, I do, Bennett. And I’m asking you to consider it.”

  “Fine, yeah, I’ll consider it,” she says. She’ll say just about anything at this point to end the conversation.

  “Good. I’ll talk to you about it in a couple of days, then.” He stands and stretches. “And now that that’s been—discussed, kind of, I need to get the rest of these scripts to one of the producers. Either of you guys need a ride back to the hotel or anything?”

  Bennett says no, and Burt collects up the spare scripts from the kitchen table. The second he’s gone, Bennett aims her scowl at Teddy. She’s about to ask him what the hell that was all about, but one glance at him brings her up short. He’s slumped in his chair, arms folded across his lap. He doesn’t even have to be looking up for her to see the emotions on his face.

  They sit in silence.

  “So, obviously this is the real reason why you were acting weird this morning,” Bennett says. “A heads-up would’ve been nice, instead of me having to hear it from Emmy and Burt first.”

  “I didn’t deserve that,” Teddy says.

  “What?”

  He finally looks at her. “I didn’t deserve to be snapped at like that in front of Burt, and I definitely didn’t deserve what you said,” he says quietly. “I was on your side that entire conversation and you bit my head off the first chance you got. Like you were just waiting for it.”

  “What are you—I wasn’t waiting for anything,” Bennett says.

  Teddy shakes his head. “You know, I at least thought after what we were doing five minutes ago things were changing a little bit. But it’s like this entire time you’ve just been waiting for me to once again prove to you that I’m an asshole and to give you another reason to go all radio silent on me again. And it’s bullshit, Bennett.”

  “Sounds like you’re being a little paranoid, there,” Bennett says, and even she’s surprised by how clipped her tone is.

  “Can you blame me?” he asks. “Not only did you shut me out the second you left the airport last July, you didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself. You know how that made me feel?”

  “Probably similar to how I felt when I watched you meet up with some other girl two seconds after you kissed me good-bye outside of departures.”

  Teddy glares at her.

  “See? There it is again,” he says. “You’ve obviously got all kinds of passive aggressive comments like that stockpiled somewhere to use as, like, ammunition or something. What the hell was that a second ago? I love to be secretive about shit? Last time I checked, you’re the only one being secretive about anything these days, so don’t you dare put that on me.”

  Bennett snickers. “I’m being secretive and passive aggressive? You wanna talk about the first table-read last week while we’re at it?”

  Teddy scrubs both hands through his hair, letting out a frustrated groan. “I didn’t know how else to get you to hear me out, and I still don’t, Bennett,” he says, clenching his jaw. “You just said you believed me about the airport, then made out with me like everything was fine, then turned around and used it against me in front of Burt. The only reason I even considered this stupid marketing thing is because I’ve seen it work and I want this movie to be as successful as you deserve it to be, Bennett. Don’t paint me as the bad guy here.”

  “Don’t get all self-righteous, then,” she fires back, because of course he’s playing that card right now. But then she zeroes back in on how he’s seen this work before—how he’s said it twice now—and she scoffs. “What, are you speaking from experience here? You’ve seen this work because you’ve done it before?”

  It’s meant to be half joking, half rhetorical until she sees the way Teddy freezes, guilt writing itself across his face. The realization hits her like a 747.

  “Oh my God,” she says, a disbelieving smile following it up despite the way her heart almost sinks through the floor. How had she not put this together already? “You have done it before—with the girl from the airport, right?”

  Teddy pushes his hair back off his forehead, holding it there for a second before letting it drop back into place. “She and I were already dating by the time the director approached us about it,” he says quietly. Like that’s supposed to help.

  Logically, Bennett has no justifiable reason to be this upset. And that’s what’s most frustrating about it.

  “I mean, we knew people were going to find out eventually. Occupational hazard. So we just went along with it,” Teddy adds, throwing her nervous glances now. “I don’t see why it would be any different with us—”

  “I’m not splashing my private life across the Internet just to sell a few extra movie tickets,” she snaps, leaning back on the couch. It’s only then that she realizes how rigidly she’d been sitting. Her lower back is stiff. “It’s not an occupational hazard for me,
and I refuse to make it one.”

  Teddy looks more confused than disappointed now. “Why, though?”

  Bennett balks. “Why would I ever be okay with allowing that many people to know my business? Nothing’s worth that.”

  Teddy leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing a hand over his mouth. He looks at her for a long time, and the longer he looks, the more he shakes his head.

  “You know people finding out about who I’m involved with is inevitable, Bennett. Regardless of who I’m dating or some stupid marketing scheme,” he says slowly, forcing her to meet his eye. “And if that’s going to be a problem for you, then you need to let me know. Right now.”

  Bennett doesn’t know what to say, but apparently her silence is enough.

  Teddy gets up and puts on his rain jacket.

  “Got it,” he says, crossing the trailer and giving her a thumbs-up.

  Bennett still can’t bring herself to speak, and by the time she opens her mouth to say something to fix this, the moment has passed and her trailer door has already slammed shut.

  * * *

  Bennett doesn’t know how much time passes before Emmy and Olivia come find her in her trailer. They walk in to Bennett lying on the couch, and neither of them ask questions about why she has her face mashed into a throw pillow. Bennett stays quiet as she drives them back to the hotel, and Emmy and Olivia tell her they made plans to meet a couple of the production assistants for dinner in the hotel restaurant later—that Bennett’s more than welcome to join them.

  Bennett tells them she’s tired, even though it’s only midafternoon, but maybe she’ll meet up with them afterward.

  By the time she gets back into her room, the past twenty-four hours finally catch up with her—the dinner kidnapping, the hospital last night, the hospital this morning, the conversation with Burt … but the only reason she draws the blackout curtains and crawls into bed at five p.m. is because she basically just told Teddy that a relationship with him isn’t worth the trouble, and she’s just now starting to feel the weight of what that really means. Bennett can admit she should’ve handled it better, but first she needs to figure out why she handled it the way she did.

  The conversation with Burt was one thing, and Bennett will never be okay with a marketing scheme like he suggested … but why did she let the conversation go that far with Teddy afterward?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When Olivia Katsaros asks Bennett after the first week of filming if she can catch a ride to set with her and Emmy in the mornings, Bennett can’t really tell her no. One, because that’d be insanely rude, and two, because Bennett has no reason to. Bennett might be protective of her morning routine, but despite first impressions—Olivia Katsaros is fucking awesome.

  Not only is she as nice as she is considerate of everyone on set, she also has one of those infectious personalities that makes even the worst day of filming a little more enjoyable (which has become a bit of a theme recently). Needless to say it doesn’t take long for their morning commute together to become an integral part of Bennett’s new morning routine:

  1.    Wake up.

  2.    Go for a run.

  3.    Shower.

  4.    Carpool to set with Emmy and Olivia.

  5.    Raid the set’s daily breakfast buffet.

  6.    Pretend to not care that Teddy hasn’t looked in her general direction since their blowup in her trailer.

  7.    Acknowledge that she’s too much of a stubborn asshole to apologize to him, despite how much she knows she should.

  8.    Attempt to get some writing done in her trailer/get distracted by all the things that went down in said trailer.

  9.    Avoid Burt Bridges for the rest of the day by any and all means necessary.

  One of Bennett’s favorite tactics for number nine on the list involves pushing the limits of what is considered taking only an hour for lunch off-set with Emmy and Olivia. Usually Olivia’s assistant or some members of the production team tag along, but today it’s just them, and Emmy has barely finished ordering her salad when she decides to ruin the first somewhat-decent mood Bennett’s been in all week.

  “You know you need to talk to him at least one more time about next Saturday, Bennett. It’s professional courtesy,” she says, handing her menu to the waitress. Bennett waits for her to walk away before starting into her excuses.

  “We’ve already talked a million times about it. There’s nothing left to tell him.”

  “Tell who, what?” Olivia pipes up.

  Emmy frowns. “Come on, Bennett. The whole point of next Saturday is film promotion. The director needs to be kept in the loop with everything going on.”

  “What’s going on next Saturday?” Olivia asks.

  “Let’s e-mail him an outline and the itinerary, then,” Bennett says, sipping her drink and pretending not to pout.

  “Bennett, you know he needs more than that—”

  “Stop ignoring me!” Olivia snaps, effectively commandeering the attention of the table. Then she asks, with a little too much enthusiasm for Bennett’s taste, “Does this have to do with that whole dating-Teddy-marketing-thing with Burt?”

  “Not directly,” Bennett mumbles.

  “We’re talking about Bennett’s book signing next Saturday,” Emmy says. “And how Bennett needs to have at least one more sit-down with Burt to go over all the logistics leading up to it.”

  “The publisher always handles this, though,” Bennett says, and it’s such a weak argument it might as well be working against her. Truth is, she doesn’t want to sit down with Burt and talk logistics because she doesn’t want to give him the chance to talk to her about convincing the entire Internet that she and Teddy are an item.

  “Your publisher is handling it from their end,” Emmy presses. “But this is the first signing that’s tied with the film adaptation. And you’re the publisher’s only representative in Wilmington right now. You have to be the liaison.”

  “Can’t you just talk to Burt about it instead?” she whines.

  Emmy sighs and massages her temples. “Look, B, I get you’re uncomfortable with Burt right now, but Burt’s the one who went to bat to get you involved in this movie. I know it’s weird with the whole PR thing, but this is business, and you’ve gotta show some respect here.”

  Bennett knows she’s already lost this argument, so it doesn’t help when Olivia chimes in.

  “Bennett, this is your first experience with filming a movie, right?” Olivia asks.

  She nods.

  “And is Burt expecting you to talk with him more about the book signing?”

  Bennett nods again. Reluctantly.

  “All right, so—filming a movie doesn’t work unless everyone involved is kept in the same loop and on the same page,” Olivia says, sitting up a little straighter and lacing her fingers together on the table. “Everyone is sensitive as fuck in this industry, too. If Burt’s expecting you to follow up with him and you blow him off because you guys aren’t on the best terms right now—and believe me, that’s exactly the conclusion he’ll jump to—then not only does that make it look like this film isn’t a priority for you, but it also makes you look unreliable, and honestly, a little ungrateful.

  “All you have is your reputation in this industry—that’s it,” Olivia adds when Bennett refuses to meet her eye. “So if you want any type of film future for your upcoming books, then you need to make sure people know you’re good to work with. All it takes is for one person to tell another person that they had a bad experience with you, and bam, you’re done. Trust me.”

  “Agreed,” Emmy says. “And it goes both ways, too. I don’t think Burt’s trying to make this personal. I think he’s genuinely trying to give this movie the best shot he can. Even if his tactics are a little … questionable.”

  Bennett would be lying if she said she isn’t taking this so personally because she thought she and Bur
t had a strong enough working relationship that he wouldn’t try to exploit her for the sake of the movie. Olivia and Emmy are right, though. How Bennett handles every situation when it comes to this movie, no matter how big or small, reflects directly back on her. It’s not like she’s expecting to have the film rights for every book she writes in the future sold like Parachutes, but it’s definitely something she’s interested in pursuing.

  “Fine,” Bennett concedes. “You’re both right.”

  Olivia gives her a megawatt, million-dollar smile. “Good. And it’s not like Emmy and I are going to leave you out to dry with this whole PR thing. If Burt tries to be an asshole about it, we’ve got your back.”

  “Good,” Bennett says, “because I have a feeling he’s probably going to try.”

  * * *

  When they arrive back to set, Bennett works up enough nerve to sit next to Burt behind one of the cameras—it’s the first time in a few days she’s come within five feet of him. Unfortunately, filming moves at glacial speed all afternoon, and Bennett gets more anxious with each take.

  “Teddy,” Burt snaps, making the knot in Bennett’s stomach twist. “We’re close to the last scene of the day—I need you to stop fidgeting and pay attention, please.”

  Teddy’s shoulders tense as he apologizes and walks back to his blocking place. Burt has a habit of coming off like an angry schoolteacher reprimanding his students sometimes, and Bennett doesn’t like it when it’s directed at Teddy, who’s done nothing today but kill it as usual.

  “Hey, Burt?” Bennett says, just as Burt’s about to bark something else at the actors.

  The director glances sideways at her, apparently surprised that she’s talking to him at all. “What’s up?”

  Bennett inhales slowly and hopes it doesn’t look like she’s trying to psych herself up here. “When today’s filming is over, do you want to set a time to sit down and go over next Saturday’s book signing again?”

  “Yeah—I’m glad you mentioned it, actually,” he says. “I’ve got some things to discuss with you about it.”