He sat across from me. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Ok.” I wasn’t interested in touching breakfast. I could barely breathe. It was like a vice had been fastened to my chest. Every time Ben spoke, someone cranked the handle on my back, making even a whisper impossible.
“So, here’s what’s going on.” He flashed a grin. The one I had seen on the front of magazine covers. “I was talking to Scott, and he thinks it’s best if we aren’t seen in public together while you’re in town.” He picked up a piece of toast and slathered it with butter.
“What? I don’t understand?” It sounded like he just said I was a hideous toad that he couldn’t be seen with in public.
“Remember the plan I had to keep the press away from you? Well, now that we’re both in L.A., it isn’t going to work out like that. If they see me with you, it’s only going to ramp things up worse than they’ve ever been. Do you understand? They’re like sharks when they get a whiff of the tiniest amount of blood.”
The burning in the back of my throat and eyes was almost unbearable. I pushed back from the table. “I understand. I’ll head to the airport.”
Ben jumped toward me. “No, that’s not what I want. I never want that.”
I whipped around, my eyes firing into his. “What do you want? You didn’t want me last night. You fell asleep. Then I overhear this morning that my surprise trip has ruined your big PR plans. It’s obvious I don’t belong here. I shouldn’t have come. I’m just in the way. I can pack up and be out of here in ten minutes.”
“No, no, no. You don’t get it. I don’t give a damn about the movie PR. I’m doing it for you. I want to keep them away from you. If we give them just one photo op, your life will be a living nightmare. If I keep the spotlight on Rebecca and me, it takes it off you. That’s all I want. I want to keep you safe.”
It may have sounded sensible, but it didn’t cure the burn that had invaded my body. All the jealousy, the embarrassment, and the suspicions he wanted me to stay in the shadows had taken hold. No logical explanation was going to unwrap their talons.
“I’ll head back to Austin today, and you won’t have to worry about it.” I turned toward the bedroom, hoping I could make it before the tears started sliding down my cheeks.
“Chelsea.” He grabbed my arm, spinning me to face him. “I don’t want you to go. You can’t go.”
I couldn’t look at him. “I think it’s the best thing for both of us right now. We can talk about it later when I’m gone.”
“You don’t really believe that. How can the best thing for either of us be you leaving when we can’t stand to be on opposite sides of the room from each other?” He dropped his grip. “You’re like a magnet to me. I won’t be able to think about anything but you. I can’t think about anything but your blue eyes, your laugh.” He paused. “Your stubbornness.” He chuckled. “Girl, you have lost it if you think I would be happier with you back in Texas. I can barely breathe when you’re gone.”
“But I heard what you said to Scott. And I know about ‘Benecca.’ I can’t stay.”
I couldn’t stop them. The tears fell.
“Baby, don’t cry. I know this was a horrible start to your L.A. trip, but we can turn it around.” His thumb brushed a tear that had descended toward my chin. I felt the warmth in his touch, and it stirred hope I thought was lost. Little flickers of hope that just needed fanning.
“How are we going to do that?” I looked at him, needing answers from him that would soothe all the confusion and hurt I felt.
“First, we’re going to start by me loving you like I should have last night.” He stepped closer, filling all my senses.
“I-I—”
“And don’t argue with me.” He scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom, proving for the next two hours that he was a man of his word.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ben
Four days later, I watched my jet take off east, carrying Chelsea and her suitcases back to Austin. I shook my head. Somehow, we had managed to salvage the trip. But I didn’t feel any better about putting her on that plane and sending her home. I already missed her. Most of the time I was shooting, but she seemed to be coming around to the idea. It was better she never visited the set. I had to keep her far from Rebecca.
I pointed the car onto the freeway. I had to be at work in twenty minutes, and I barely had enough time to make it to the studio. I dialed Rebecca’s number.
“Hey, babe. Where are you? We’re getting ready to start and I just stopped by your trailer.”
“I’m running a few minutes late. I’m on my way. Cover for me?”
“Of course. See you soon.”
I tossed the phone in the console. Rebecca had her moments.
Today we were shooting a hospital scene, so for once I didn’t have to wear my birthday suit all day on a damn movie set. If I could just get through the rest of this, I promised myself I would never do another film like this again. I didn’t care what doors it opened for my career. It wasn’t worth the hell I had been through.
I threw the car into park in front of my trailer and rushed out to find the makeup team. Today I would be bandaged and splattered with blood from a motorcycle accident. My character was a real daredevil.
“There you are.” Rebecca stepped out from her trailer. “I bought us another twenty minutes and said I had a headache.” She smiled.
“Thanks, Becs.” I raced past her. “See you on set.”
“See you.”
There were always strings attached when Rebecca did me a favor. But right now, I couldn’t think about that. I needed stitches.
***
The hotel suite felt like an icebox, exactly how I liked it. I always slept better when it was freezing, but I knew I did my best sleeping with Chelsea next to me. Tonight would be a toss and turn kind of night. The lights from the Hollywood hills sparkled through the windows, and I crossed the room to close the drapes before flipping on the lights. I was actually done at a decent time today, nine o’clock.
Some of the guys from the crew were headed out for drinks, but I passed. I wasn’t in the mood for socializing. I told them I’d catch up with them next time. One of them asked if there was an apocalypse on the way because Ben Baldwin never turned down a free beer.
I saw a folded piece of paper on my side of the bed. I sat on the edge and opened the note. I wasn’t ready for what I read.
Ben,
You’re like the waves, pulling me out with you every chance you get. I keep coming back, ready and willing to ride the currents no matter where you take me.
You’ll always have me.
Love,
Chelsea
I creased the note and tucked it in my back pocket. If I could call the jet back, I would hop on it right now and fly home to show Chelsea all the things I hadn’t been able to convince her of during her trip. Long distance was hard. Damn hard.
No matter how many smiles she gave, I couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t happy in L.A. It didn’t help that we had to stay in the hotel for most of her visit, or that I was filming late into the night. The express schedule to shoot this movie was taxing on everyone, but I wondered if it was hardest on Chelsea. I swore I would never be the reason the light in her eyes dimmed, and now that was all I could think about—disappointing her. Hurting her.
I glanced at the clock. I could probably catch the guys at the bar. I shoved a ball cap over my eyes and picked up my leather jacket. After a quick text, I was on my way. I couldn’t stand another second in this empty, cold hotel suite.
Twenty minutes later, I walked into a dive bar off the beaten path.
“There he is!” the group hollered from the corner. “We already ordered a beer for you.”
I smiled. This is exactly what I needed.
“Thanks, man.” I accepted the beer from one of the boom mic operators. “I needed this.”
I sat at the crowded table. Before I had finished my first sip, everyone aroun
d me swiveled toward the exit.
“What’s going on?” I turned to see Rebecca saunter through the door, her bombshell-blonde hair framing her face like a halo. “Who invited her?” I tried to keep the seething out of my voice.
“Hey, guys.” She beamed. “Hey, Ben. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
I doubted that. Becs would never be seen in a place like this. There was a clamoring to make room for her at the table. Somehow, she managed to snag a seat next to me.
“Becs.” I tipped my beer toward her and took another swallow. Might as well drink.
“What can we get you, Rebecca?” The lighting assistant was on his feet ready to fetch.
“Do they have chardonnay here?” She looked around the assembly. “Actually, make that a beer.” She smiled at me. “I miss drinking with you.”
I growled. My guys’ night had just transformed into awkward drinks with the ex. Maybe I could finish this one and head out.
“How did you think the scenes went today?” She turned toward me.
“Good. I think they’re going fine.”
“Because I was thinking maybe we should work on tomorrow’s scene ahead of time.”
I hadn’t committed the schedule to memory. I didn’t know what was slated. “All right. What scene is that?”
“The break-up scene. It’s going to be intense. I think we should be prepared.”
I chuckled. “You know, you’ve come a long way from the girl who wouldn’t take a lick of advice from me.”
She sipped the beer, and I noticed she twitched but avoided making a bitter face. “You mean in New Orleans?”
“Yeah, no matter how much I told you we needed to go over the lines, you refused. You said you worked better off the cuff.”
She laughed. “Maybe I’m more seasoned now. Or maybe I know you give good advice.”
“Oh, is that it?”
“I’ve done a few movies since last year, and yes, you were right. I needed to focus more on my characters. I was too impatient.”
I rocked back on two legs in my seat, eyeing Rebecca. “You impatient? Say it isn’t so.” I laughed when she punched me in the arm, almost sending my chair to the floor. I sat forward. “I’m just kidding with you, Becs.”
“Finally.” She smiled slyly and took another sip. “I’ve been wondering where the Ben I knew had gone.”
My eyes hit the floor. It was possible I had been treating her like a black widow spider instead of like someone I used to care about. Someone I had spent months adoring.
“I’m sorry, but this isn’t what I’d call a normal situation.”
“We are in Hollywood, babe. There is no normal.” She giggled. “Stay for another round with me?”
My beer was empty, and the crew guys had started playing pool. I hadn’t even noticed Rebecca and I were alone at the table.
“All right. One more, but then I’m out of here.” I waved my hand in the air for another round.
“Good. I like seeing this side of you again.” A waitress delivered two cold bottles, and Rebecca tapped hers against mine. “To new beginnings.”
I grinned. “All right, killer, if you say so.”
Four beers, two rounds of pool, and three hours later, I emerged from the club with Rebecca. Before my ball cap was snugly around my eyes, we were ambushed by a pack of paparazzi on the sidewalk. I threw an arm around Becs and shuttled her to my car. The flashes popped liked fireworks.
I closed the door behind me and started to face her. “Did you do this? Did you tell them we were here?”
“No. I swear I didn’t, Ben.”
I didn’t believe one word out of her mouth. “Dammit, Becs. What in the hell?”
She grabbed my arm. “I didn’t tip them off. It had to be someone at the bar or someone on the crew. I didn’t. I promise you.”
I shook off her grip. “I’ll get you back to your place, but I swear…” I looked out of the window as the piranhas rolled past. “Just when I think you might be different.” It was my fault. I let my guard down. And it was just enough to give Rebecca what she wanted—attention.
“Fine. Don’t believe me, but I didn’t do it. Why would I want to be seen at that dump?” I heard her voice crack, and for a second thought, there may be sincerity in her words. Then I remembered Rebecca’s sobs were ever genuine. She was the most beautiful crier in the business. I couldn’t trust a single tear.
We rode in silence to Rebecca’s rented Malibu house. She didn’t say a word when the car parked, but slammed the door and stormed into the house.
I had no doubt I pegged all her intentions. I pulled out my phone to call Scott, but decided it wasn’t worth it. The story would run in tomorrow’s gossip cycle, and I’d have to deal with it. The press had no idea which “Benecca” sightings were staged, but I did. Scott and Rebecca’s agent had agreed to keep most of our outings casual—lunch on the set, or maybe an early dinner at a sidewalk café. I insisted the events be public so there would be little room for extra interpretation. It kept Rebecca in line, the PDA to a minimum, and I hoped it made Chelsea more comfortable. She was the reason I was doing all of it. As long as I could control it, it worked.
My fist landed on the armrest. It made me sick to think tonight had become one more piece of evidence that “Benecca” was back together—mended hearts and all.
***
Chelsea was in the studio with Quinn this morning. I tried to call her and tell her about the bar pictures before she saw them, but she hadn’t answered her phone. As long as I was the one setting up the pictures, I could alert her ahead of time. Last night was out of my control. I knew she would be caught off guard.
I left another voicemail for her. “Chelsea, call me. I’m keeping my phone with me on the set today, so just call and I’ll answer it. I don’t know if you saw the pictures from last night, but I need to explain.” I hesitated. I knew I sounded like a groveling fool. “Baby, just call me.”
I hung up and walked onto the set. Rebecca was still in makeup. They were perfecting her mascara so that it would run just enough with tears, but not so much that it made her look like a football player.
I pulled the script pages from the table. After last night, I told her I was too tired to rehearse. We would have to wing it. I chuckled to myself. The irony was getting to me. Becs and I had already had a break-up rehearsal. We didn’t really need time going over our lines again.
If there were any way to speed up this makeup process, I would have been powdering Rebecca’s nose myself. I was ready to get this over with.
“What do you think?” Rebecca walked up behind me and batted her eyes.
“We ready to do this?” I asked. I wasn’t in the mood for chitchat.
“What? You’re still mad about last night?” she whispered. “I told you it wasn’t me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I tossed the script on the table. “Can we just get this over with?”
She stood with her hands on her hips. “I hope you can pull it together.”
I spun around. “Excuse me, darlin’?”
“Today, I’m the one breaking up with you, remember? And you’re supposed to be so in love with me that you can’t see straight. You beg me to stay. You beg me to give you another chance. I’m the air you breathe, the stars in your sky, the reason you wake up each morning. You’ll die if you don’t kiss me again. You’ll die if I say no. If you thought for even one single second that I would walk away from you, you know you’d be lost. I am not someone you can barely stand to look at.” She huffed and breezed past me. “Get it together, Ben.”
I stood speechless.
“Are you coming?”
“Yep.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed her. She had proven in front of everyone that I wasn’t the professional on the set.
I wandered to my spot. The penthouse apartment that had been constructed was remarkable. The floors were slick marble. If I didn’t know I was actually on the ground floor, I would have looked out of
the windows and believed we were thirty floors up. The construction team was talented.
“Hey, Becs.” I watched the last touchups being applied to her cheeks.
“What?”
“You’re right.”
She shooed the makeup artist to the side. “About what?”
“I’m not staying focused. No matter what happens out there, we have a job to do once we walk through those doors, and I’m not doing the best job of keeping that separate.”
Her full lips turned upward in a smile. “It’s not entirely your fault, but thank you for the apology.”
For a second, I wondered if I had wrongly accused her of setting up the paparazzi ambush. The Rebecca innocent look was in full effect. I had to remind myself that she had lured in more than one victim that way.
“Now that that’s out of the way, you better get ready, because I’m about to break your heart.” She slinked to the bed and lay across the satin sheets, grinning her canary-eating grin.
I shook my head. Nothing would ever be simple with this girl.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Chelsea
I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen so much rain—probably during the hurricane. I ran my fingers through my hair, tangling it at the ends. The hurricane. The night Ben and I claimed each other like we would never come back from the place we found together. We didn’t want to come back.
I gripped my guitar and watched the rain splash in the puddles. I wondered if this kind of rain would flood the pond.
“You ready to write?” Quinn stepped through the studio doors.
I turned from the window. “Sure. Where do you want to start?”
“How about with that sad frown on your face? What’s wrong?” Quinn slid a cup of coffee into my free hand. “You look like you should be writing a your-dog-just-died kind of song.”
I giggled. “That sounds a little dramatic.”
“Haven’t you heard I’m extremely dramatic?” She laughed. “Seriously, what’s wrong? We can’t write if there’s something bothering you.”
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