Home Sweet Home

by Melanie Shawn

  Ben said, "Come on now, ladies, Lauren's probably scared enough as it is, this being her first day and all. You need to give her a heart attack on top of everything else?"

  He turned to Lauren and made introductions, gesturing to each woman in turn as he said their name, "Lauren, this is Marlene and Barbara, two of the best wardrobe mistresses you'll ever meet. They work on Home Sweet Home, and we were lucky enough to be able to snag them for Home Sweet Vacation Home as well."

  Barbara stuck out her hand to shake Lauren's, saying enthusiastically, "Lucky enough to get us, are you kidding me? We feel lucky to be dressing a woman for a change! No offense, Ben, but men's clothes can get pretty boring compared to women's."

  "Agreed," said Marlene, "Now, come on over here, sweetheart, and we'll get you started."

  Marlene led Lauren briskly over to the side of the room where the majority of the women’s clothing was hanging, and Barbara took Ben over to the men’s side.

  "What are we doing?" asked Lauren.

  "Oh, honey, we need to try the outfits on you!" Marlene said, "Figure out if they're gonna need tailoring, see how the colors look against your skin - all of that."

  Lauren looked around, puzzled.

  "Where are we going to change?" she asked, perplexed.

  This brought a fresh round of laughter from both of the women, and from Ben.

  "No time for modesty, hon," said Marlene, "Trust me, I've seen it all anyway."

  Lauren's eyes widened, but she didn't want to make the same mistake that she had almost made in the meeting, which was to make a spectacle of herself and make enemies on her very first day, so she went along with the program. As uncomfortable as she was undressing in front of strangers (and, good God, especially in front of Ben!) she figured that the best way to handle it would be to just take emotion out of the equation to the greatest extent that she could. So, refusing to let any shock show in her face or demeanor beyond her initial widening of eyes, she turned to Marlene and said briskly, "OK, sounds good. Where can I hang my things?"

  Marlene looked impressed, and turned to where Ben was standing.

  "Hmmm..." she said, "I like this one. She gets with the program. Not like the two hours of arguing we had to do with you!"

  Ben blushed, and, in a clear attempt to downplay, said, "I think that's a slight exaggeration."

  Barbara and Marlene looked at each other for a moment and then both shook their heads.

  "Nah," Barbara agreed, "It was a good two hours, maybe more."

  Lauren smiled, feeling inside that she had won a small victory, but not a victory over Ben. This wasn't a competition. A victory over the hurdles that she would be facing while acclimating to this new job.

  She had to keep reminding herself that, of course, Ben seemed very comfortable with the routines and the logistics of hosting the show, he'd been doing it for a few years now. She couldn't make the mistake of feeling bad about herself because she was comparing her current performance, on the very first day that she was doing this job, with Ben's seasoned and expert proficiency, several years in. As much as Lauren hated to admit it, because she wanted to be the best at everything and she wanted to be the best right out of the gate, she knew that there would be a learning curve.

  The fact that she now had proof positive that there was at least ONE task that she had mastered, at least one obstacle that she had overcome, significantly quicker than Ben initially had, gave her confidence that eventually she could be as good at this - if not better - than he was.

  Lauren smiled to herself. Because of her competitive nature, anytime she was performing a comparison between herself and someone else, there was ALWAYS going to be an 'if not better' inserted. That was just how she was.

  Lauren turned her back to Ben and began to disrobe. She heard the rustling of fabric behind her and realized that he must be doing the same. She felt a flush start to creep up her cheeks, and wished that she could control her physiological reactions with the power of her mind.

  Hey, maybe I can, she thought to herself, let me give it a try.

  Do NOT get red faced thinking about Ben naked, do NOT get red faced thinking about Ben naked. She paused for a moment to see if it had had any effect, taking stock of the sensations on her face.

  Nope. She could still feel heat slowly creeping up her cheeks. So much for mind over matter.

  After Lauren got over her initial reticence about being scantily clad in front of strangers, and in front of Ben, she found that she enjoyed the wardrobe fitting immensely.

  As it progressed, she completely saw what Marlene meant about there being no time for modesty. They powered through outfits at an extremely rapid pace, Marlene helping her step into and out of trousers and pulling them up, and holding shirts and jackets behind her as she slid her arms in.

  As soon as one outfit was reasonably well in place, Marlene would take a quick Polaroid of it and pin it up to a cork board - and just that quickly, they were on to the next.

  On Ben's side of the room, Barbara was doing the same.

  "What are the Polaroids for?" Lauren asked.

  "Oh, those are so Barbara and I can sit later and strategize out which outfits will look the best in the scene, and next to each other," Marlene explained, "We'll shuffle them like playing cards and suss out what our top pairings are. When we get it all settled, we'll chart it out and pack the clothes up, using the Polaroid’s to label which garment bag has which outfit."

  "Wow, that's quite an impressive system," Lauren said.

  "Oh, sure," Marlene agreed, "It serves us well."

  Lauren could not believe how much behind the scenes work she was learning went into producing a television show, even a reality television show. It was a gigantic collaboration, involving the talents and labors of many people. It was something that she had never realized or respected before, but she was beginning to now.

  As Barbara and Marlene hustled Ben and Lauren in and out of outfits, Lauren could not help but sneak glances over at Ben, and in spite of her best intentions, she found herself admiring his well-muscled chest and six pack abs.

  In fact - again in spite of her best intentions - she actually found herself getting a little hot and bothered by the sight and proximity of a nearly-naked Ben Stevens.

  "Marlene," Ben asked at one point, "Is your son home from Afghanistan yet?"

  "Two more months," said Marlene sadly, but then brightened. "I do get to Skype with him quite a bit. So that's a plus. I don't know how the wives and mothers of soldiers did it before we had technology like Skype, waiting weeks on end for letters to show up? I'd go absolutely nuts."

  "True," Ben agreed, "But still. I bet you and James are counting down the days."

  "Fifty seven," Marlene confirmed, and there was something so poignant in that - in her immediate recitation of the specific amount of days, that Lauren got a little misty, even though she barely knew this woman.

  Lauren felt her perspective on who Ben was shifting yet again. Remembering that Marlene's son was in Afghanistan, remembering her husband's name, caring about both of those things - this was not something that fit with the idea of Ben that she had in her mind. Was it possible that her concept of ‘Ben’- a Ben that was self-involved and entitled - was not the whole story, and in fact maybe wasn't even what he was like at all?

  It made her uncomfortable to think that she could have misjudged him so utterly, and so quickly.

  She wasn't yet entirely sold on the idea that she had been wrong about Ben, but even the possibility of that made her feel unsettled.

  During the entire three hour fitting, Lauren tried to take advantage of small moments, little breaks, such as when Marlene was pinning a Polaroid to the corkboard, or when the two had to stop for thirty seconds or a minute to confer about small details, to try to keep up somewhat with the emails that were coming in to her smart phone at an alarming rate.

  All she had time to do was scan them and reply to the most urgent. She noticed Ben was doing the same thing.


  At one point she turned to him with a slightly frazzled smile and asked, "Is it always like this?"

  Ben gave her a small half-smile and a wink.

  "Nah”, he reassured her.

  "Oh, that's good," Lauren said with relief.

  "Sometimes it's actually busy," he clarified with a rascally twinkle in his eye.

  Lauren laughed at this joke, which she had left herself wide open for, and then said, "Well. Good thing I'm an excellent multi-taker."

  --- ~ ---

  Torture. Pure, unadulterated torture. That's what this wardrobe fitting was for Ben.

  Watching Lauren continue to get dressed and undressed, trying to keep his physical reaction to her under control - oh, yes, it was the sweetest torture he could possibly imagine.

  What made it worse - and better - was that the longer the fitting went on, the less inhibited and more comfortable she seemed to become.

  As Lauren slipped slacks on and off, he saw her legs - slim, toned, but undeniably strong, as well. She was wearing a delicate peach lace bra and panties set, which made him smile. Leave it to Lauren to be dressed to the nines, right down to her skivvies, when she didn't even know that anyone would be seeing them that day. He wouldn't have expected any less of her.

  But the reaction that they were causing in him was no smiling matter. That delicate pastel peach color had him firing on all cylinders, in a way that even an in-your-face, overtly sexy color like black or fire engine red wouldn't have. It was so feminine, so close to her own skin tone, that he felt almost as if he were getting a preview of what Lauren Harrison must look like naked - and that was definitely not an experience that he was prepared to have without sprouting some major wood.

  And therein lay the problem. Not only did Ben wish to conceal his visceral, physical, sexual reaction to Lauren's beauty and state of undress from Lauren herself, but he wasn't exactly crazy about the idea of showing off his boner to Barbara and Marlene either, - women that he had known for three years, and whom he thought of as surrogate aunts.

  Yes, that would definitely be a supremely uncomfortable situation.

  Normally, wardrobe fittings were one of Ben's favorite days. He loved the wardrobe mistresses. Barbara and Marlene were two of his favorite people in the world. They were hilarious. During the three years he had worked on the show, he had become really close to both them and their families.

  But, today, all he could think about was Lauren. Lauren and her beautiful body. Lauren and what it would be like to make love to her.

  But, it wasn't just her body that was sending Ben into a frenzy of barely controlled arousal. It was also her manner. He had never seen her this easy and assured. He loved watching her interact with Barbara and Marlene. He was impressed with the way she seemed to so quickly get used to being poked and prodded, pulled at and adjusted. At first he hadn't been sure if she would be able to handle it. That wasn't an easy transition to make at your very first wardrobe fitting, especially if you walked in not knowing what was in store for you.

  One thing you could definitely say about Lauren Harrison, he was learning, was that she was adaptable to pretty much any situation, a survival-of-the-fittest, adapt-or-die kind of girl, and he loved that. She kept surprising him, he liked that too.

  He smirked grimly to himself.

  Too bad she wasn't his type.

  Chapter Six

  Lauren sat straight up in bed, her head filled with an odd buzzing. What was that sound? Why was it bothering her in the middle of the night?

  Her head cleared enough to realize that the sound was the text message notification on her phone. She pulled her phone off of the nightstand and, through blurry eyes, saw that it was a text from the driver saying that he was out front, ready to pick her up.

  Lauren was momentarily confused, but when she glanced down, she saw that she was dressed only in a towel.

  “Oh Shit!”

  Suddenly she had a crystal clear memory of lying down after she took a shower last night. Damn, why did she do that? She was just going to close her eyes 'for a few minutes' – which was, of course, always the kiss of death. She had been exhausted from, both, the meeting and the the wardrobe fitting, which had taken several hours.

  After all of that, she had had her real job to contend with - she had to go tie up all of the loose ends at the office, seeing as she was going to be out of town for a few days.

  She hadn't gotten home until well past midnight. Her plan had been to shower, pack and then catch a few hours of sleep before the car came to pick her up for the airport.

  Well, at least she'd gotten through the shower part of it! The rest had been completely derailed.

  She quickly texted the driver back, letting him know that she would be right out.

  Lauren began running around the room like a crazy person, grabbing anything and everything that she thought she might need and tossing it pell-mell into her rolling suitcase. Her wardrobe, Thank God, was taken care of by production, so if worst came to worst she could literally wear sweats every moment that she was not on set.

  For Lauren? That really would be the worst thing.

  Her mind was racing and she found it hard to concentrate on these simple tasks that she must now accomplish because of the near panic that was crowding her brain. She tried to calm down and tell herself to simply concentrate on one task at a time, because rushing around willy-nilly like a chicken with her head cut off was not going to get her packed and out the door any quicker.

  She had the shakes from being awoken so unexpectedly, she had a pervasive sense of dread that came from running late, and – insult to injury – she had not been able to prepare her travel list because she had been planning on doing that immediately after showering.

  On top of all that, she felt guilt and embarrassment over the fact that it was only her first day and yet, like the big diva personality that she never wanted to be, she was already making the car service wait for her. She hated that.

  Isn't this the exact kind of behavior that she detested in others? She sighed as she threw a pair of shoes into her garment bag. She felt so out of control!

  After having thrown everything into the bag that she could think she might possibly need, she quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a v-neck white t-shirt that she had been wearing on Saturday to lounge around the house. It obviously would not have been the traveling outfit that she would've chosen, but it was what happened to be laying across the arm of her reading chair in the bedroom, so it's what got pulled on.

  Lastly, she ran into the bathroom to pack her toiletries, give her teeth a quick brush, and run a comb through her sleep matted hair.

  On the way out of her bedroom, she grabbed her purse and her luggage, including her carry-on with her laptop and some paperwork she needed to go over. With a sense of accomplishment and relief, she pulled on her winter coat and stepped out of the door.

  As she approached the car, the driver met her half-way to her front door and relieved her of the larger bag.

  She felt horrible for causing him to wait, and she apologized profusely, explaining that she had overslept.

  She felt somewhat better when, in the face of her apology, he honestly looked like he could have cared less. Right, she thought, he was probably being paid by the hour. Why would he care whether he spends it driving me or waiting for me? Still, she couldn't shake the sense of guilt, the sense that she had disrespected his time.

  As he opened the back door for her, she quickly removed her coat before slipping into the back seat, still looking up at the driver as he shut the door behind her and she thanked him.

  Movement caught her attention and she turned in her seat.

  Holy cow, she thought sarcastically, of course. Perfect end to a perfect morning. Cherry on top.

  Sitting next to her was Ben Stevens, looking fully put together and awake. Sure, he had probably been up for hours.

  Could this day get any worse?

  One look at his expression, which was inscru
table but which she took to be smug, she heard herself saying, “Don’t. Say. Anything.”

  --- ~ ---

  Lauren didn’t have anything to worry about. Ben could not have formed a thought to save his life.

  He had been waiting out in the car in front of Lauren's beautiful ranch style home for almost twenty minutes.

  He had prepared himself to deal with any number of possibilities when she finally made her way to the car. He was prepared to hear any number of excuses as to why she could not make it out on time. Maybe she would breezily explain that she had an important conference call. Maybe she would pass the blame off to someone else, say that her itinerary had been wrong or confusing. Or possibly she wouldn't address it at all, in true diva style. This industry did seem to bring out the worst in people – and some of the VERY worst were those whose star was just beginning to rise. It tended to go to your head.

  But what Ben had NEVER expected to hear from her was a simple and sincere apology, and to the driver no less. He had been around women, and actors for that matter, for long enough now to know how to spot a performance, and Lauren was not putting one on. No, she genuinely felt bad for the delay she had caused.

  He was all ready to give her some smartass comment, to tease her about holding them up, but the words died on his lips. When she removed her jacket and sat beside him, he saw how she was dressed: her hair down, falling past her shoulders, not a stitch of make-up on her beautiful face, jeans that hugged her in all the right places and a v neck white t-shirt sans bra.

  The air left his lungs and he had to mentally command himself to take in a breath. The backseat suddenly felt small and he was beginning to sweat.

  Lauren Harrison was a beautiful woman when she was dressed to the nines, every hair in place, make-up perfectly applied.

  But this Lauren Harrison - no make-up, hair sexily flowing around her face, in jeans and a t-shirt – THIS Lauren Harrison was his wet dream come to life.