“I can’t believe you’re here before me,” Theo said.
“I’m always here before you,” Ben said. “You’re always running even later than I am; you just seem so responsible and put together that everyone forgets that about you.”
Theo laughed as he nodded at the bartender and pointed at Ben’s drink.
“I’m glad I seem that way, at least. So, how are lifestyles of the rich and famous over here?”
Oh. He’d been concentrating so much on telling Theo about Dawn he’d forgotten he had to tell him about Anna, too.
“That’s . . . all over,” he said.
Theo raised his eyebrows.
“Just like that? When you were at that premiere with her everything looked great between the two of you.”
He should have told Theo the truth from the beginning.
About everything.
“Yeah, well. I thought it was great, too. But, the thing is, none of it was real.” Theo started to say something, but Ben held up a hand. “Let me back up.”
He told Theo about what Anna had asked him to do and why.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. She didn’t want anyone to know, but I should have pushed harder on that. And please don’t tell me I never should have done it—the universe told me that loud and clear.” He stared down into his drink. “I fell in love with her.”
Theo looked at him, then signaled to the bartender again.
“Can we get two of those grilled cheese sandwiches, please?” He turned back to Ben when the bartender was gone. “Okay. You’ve got to tell her. Remember when I—”
Ben interrupted.
“Let me stop you right there. I told her. It . . . didn’t go well. So. It’s all over.”
Theo was silent for a moment.
“Fuck. Ben, I’m sorry. What did she say? Are you not rich enough for her, or famous enough, or—”
Ben shook his head.
“Don’t. I know you’re trying to help, but she’s not like that. I’m not saying she’s perfect, but that didn’t matter; I loved everything about her. It was just . . . she didn’t love me back, that’s all.”
Fuck if that didn’t hurt to say.
Theo put his hand on his shoulder.
“Damn. I’m really sorry. That fucking sucks.”
Ben let out a long breath. It felt good to hear someone else say that.
“Yeah. It really fucking sucks.” He looked at his brother, then looked down. “I don’t . . . I don’t know how to get through this. I keep thinking I’m going to feel better, but I just feel worse. How do I do this?”
Theo’s hand tightened on his shoulder.
“I know. I’ve been there. Have you tried getting drunk with your brother? That’s helped me a lot, in the past.”
Ben waved at the bartender.
“First of all, I should have called you a long time ago. Second, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now than get drunk with my brother.”
The bartender set two more drinks down in front of them. He started to pick one up, and then paused. Shit. He had to do this first. He took a deep breath.
“There’s one other thing. Speaking of telling people things . . . there’s something else I have to tell you. A few months ago, I got an email from someone named Dawn. Dawn Stephens. She’s . . . it seems as if our dad had a daughter. After he left.”
Theo set his glass down and turned to Ben.
“How did she find you?”
Ben shrugged.
“Well, this is when you can say I told you so—it was that stupid DNA thing I did. I guess she did it, too, and she found my name, and then she emailed me.”
Theo nodded slowly.
“Did you email her back?”
He hadn’t even said he told him so.
“Yeah. At first just to see if she was really who she said she was—I thought it might be some sort of scam or something. But she sent some pictures. Of herself as a kid with him. And of herself now.”
Theo picked up his glass but didn’t take a sip.
“Did you—have you met her?”
Ben couldn’t believe Theo would ask him that.
“Of course I haven’t; I wouldn’t meet her without talking to you about it.”
Theo put down his glass.
“Well, you emailed her without talking to me about it.”
Ben turned to face him.
“I know. I’m sorry about that. I was just worried that—I wanted to make sure it was something, before I told you. And then when I knew it was, I guess . . . I guess I was scared to tell you about her. That it made the whole thing feel . . . real.”
Theo didn’t say anything, so Ben kept talking.
“I didn’t even tell her you existed. She asked me early on if I had any brothers or sisters, and I just ignored the question. I was scared that—I didn’t want anything to come between us. And I was worried that this could. That she could.”
Theo shook his head.
“Between you and me? Nothing can ever come between us. Not this, not anything else.”
Ben looked at his brother and smiled.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know that now.”
Theo took off his glasses, cleaned them with a bar napkin, and put them back on.
“Well. A sister.” He looked at Ben. “I think we should meet her. Don’t you?”
Ben nodded.
“Yeah. I do.”
On the way out of the bar, a lot of bourbon later, Theo clapped his hand on Ben’s back.
“Look. I won’t talk shit about her, because you don’t want me to. But that Anna is missing out. No way she can find anyone else as great as you.”
Ben didn’t argue with his brother, even though he was pretty sure she could. He wished he could text Anna about the drunken email he and Theo had just sent to Dawn.
To: Dawn Stephens
From: Ben Stephens
Re: Hi
Hi Dawn
It’s Ben—and his brother Theo. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch and I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about Theo before but this whole thing has been a lot more to take in than I let on. but we were thinking
Theo here: what Ben is trying to say is, after consulting his older and wiser brother, he decided we should all meet up. Also, hi! You have two brothers! We both want to meet you!
Theo thinks he should be the one writing this email because he’s a professional at this stuff or something but I stole my phone back from him. Anyway, I’m really sorry! And yes I have an older brother and seems like you do too unfortunately for both of us. We’d love to meet you. What are you up to next weekend? We can come up to Sacramento?
Ben
(and Theo)
He knew, for his own self-respect, he couldn’t text Anna about tonight. But he really wished he could.
* * *
—
Anna had warned her parents in advance she’d decided to be public about everything. She’d been worried about that—they’d never suggested that she’d keep it a secret, but they’d also never suggested she tell anyone, and she knew the past year had been hard on them, too. But they’d taken the news quietly, and had just said they supported her in anything she chose to do. She wasn’t quite sure if that meant they approved or disapproved. She knew she should be past needing the approval of her parents, but, well, she wasn’t there yet.
Nik sent Anna an email as soon as the profile was up. Anna had been waiting for it; she knew it was supposed to come out that day. Had she said everything she’d wanted to say? Had she said it in the right way? She hoped so.
As soon as she got the link to the piece from Nik, she texted it to her parents and her brother. And then she read it. And let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t love the photos they’d picked to go along with the piece, but other than that, she couldn’t fin
d anything to complain about. Nik hadn’t misquoted her, the links to the charity she’d mentioned were all working, and she at least felt like she’d gotten all of the important things across, both about the Varon film and about mental health. She texted Florence that she could press publish on the social media posts, and told her to let the contact at the charity know they could announce her involvement.
Then her fingers hovered over one more name in her phone.
She never would have done this if it weren’t for Ben. He’d brought it up, he’d given her the idea in the first place, he’d been the one to help her deal with her shame, and think about what she could do to help others. She wanted him to know about what she’d done, but even more, she wanted to thank him.
But she couldn’t do that. Her plan was going just the way she’d wanted it to. Now that she didn’t have to stress about the Varon film and everything else, she could relax and have some fun. One of the other actors—one of the hot ones—from Vigilantes had slipped her his number at the premiere when Ben wasn’t around. The premiere had been more than three weeks ago, and she hadn’t texted that guy yet, but she should. Tonight, even. Yes, tonight, she’d text him.
She didn’t want some big love story in real life; that was just for movies. That seemed too stressful—all that relying on other people for your happiness. What if it went wrong? Then she’d just be back where she was now, but even sadder.
Not that she was sad. She wasn’t; she was thrilled about everything. She just felt a little at loose ends, that’s all.
She put her phone down, but it almost immediately buzzed. She picked it back up.
Proud of you, Anna baby.
She let the tears that had been in her eyes flow.
Thanks, Dad.
A few minutes later, her gate buzzer went off. She looked at the security camera, and it was Simon. Did they have a meeting scheduled today? Probably. She hadn’t been paying much attention to her calendar over the past few days.
She buzzed him in and wiped her eyes.
When she opened the front door, she was composed.
“I’m sorry, Simon—I hadn’t realized we were meeting today; Florence and I must have gotten our signals crossed.”
Simon walked inside, as impeccably dressed as always.
“We weren’t. Sorry for barging in. There’s something I wanted to chat with you about.”
This was weird. But it must not be bad news—Simon was always good about giving her bad news straight out, with no “we need to talk” preamble. It was one of the reasons she liked working with him so much.
She brought him into her office and sat down at her desk.
“What is it?”
He stood there looking at her for a moment before he sat down.
“The L.A. Times piece is out. Did you see it?”
She nodded.
“Yeah. I was happy with it. I mean, I’m always going to have things to criticize about what I said and didn’t say, but I think I got all of the important things across.”
Simon sighed. What was it? What had she forgotten? What had she said wrong?
“Simon?”
He pulled out his phone and read from it.
“ ‘And my friends were wonderful. Ben’s been so supportive,’ Anna said, in an apparent reference to her new boyfriend, Ben Stephens.’ That’s the only thing you said about him in the interview. Unless she just didn’t print the part where you said that you’re single now?”
She hadn’t even realized she’d said that.
“I totally forgot about that part. I didn’t even mean to say that. About Ben, I mean. I was just concentrating on saying all of the right stuff about anxiety and my career and everything else. Okay, well, I guess we’ll just have to figure out another way to do that.”
He sat back and crossed his legs.
“You know, normally, I’d buy that. But not from you. You’re good at this, you know how to do this stuff, but instead you said ‘Ben’s been so supportive.’ What’s going on between the two of you, Anna? Is there something you haven’t told me? Not that you have to tell me the details of your personal life, I hope you know that, and if you want me to butt out, just say the word, but from what you said last week, I thought the Ben thing was all over. But I know you too well to think that you just forgot to tell the world you’re single. In your mind, you’re still with him. Aren’t you? Are you two still—”
She shook her head.
“No, no, that’s all done. I told you, I just forgot, that’s all.”
She stood up.
“Was that everything? Because my trainer is coming over soon, and I have to . . .”
Simon didn’t move.
“You fell for him. Didn’t you?”
She sat back down.
“No! What are you talking about? That isn’t—that’s not what I wanted. We had a perfectly nice little fling; it’s over now, I’ve moved on.”
Simon just looked at her.
“Fine! He told me he loved me! Are you happy now? After the premiere. But I’m sure he didn’t actually mean it. People just say things, you know that. He was probably just caught up in the glamour of the night and everything. He left the next day, and I haven’t heard from him since; see, that’s proof, he didn’t mean it, it didn’t matter.”
“I saw the way he looked at you,” Simon said. “That wasn’t the look of a man who didn’t mean it.”
Anna brushed that aside.
“I told him to look at me that way. That was for the cameras. You should know that better than anyone.”
Simon shook his head.
“No. I’m talking about when there were no cameras around.”
Anna knew what Simon was talking about. She pictured Ben’s face, when he’d looked at her like that. She shook that off.
“Simon. It was business, you know that. He did help me through some stuff, and I was really grateful for it, I guess that’s why I said that in the interview, but that doesn’t mean anything like you seem to think it means!”
Simon leaned forward.
“What did he do—when you said he was so supportive? Were you talking about that day outside the restaurant when those photos got taken?”
She looked away.
“It wasn’t just that, there was a lot more to it, but yeah. I was really . . . that was a hard day. And he was great. Really great. But that doesn’t mean anything.”
She wanted to take that back as soon as it came out of her mouth. Of course it meant something. It had meant everything to her. But she had to make Simon understand it was all over.
“And yes, okay, I keep thinking about him, of course I do. But like I said, I’m done with that!”
She had to be.
“Anna.” He waited until she turned to look at him. “You don’t seem done.”
She felt tears well up in her eyes.
“He saw me at my worst, okay? And he was wonderful, yes. But I don’t want someone who has seen me at my worst! I want someone who falls in love with me at my best!”
Simon touched her arm.
“I understand that, but—”
“I don’t want love and all of that! I just want the old Anna back—the Anna from before everything happened! That Anna was great—she had so much fun, she went to lots of parties and dated lots of men and managed to ignore her constant anxiety!”
They both started laughing. Anna grabbed a tissue from her desk and wiped her eyes.
“Do you really want that, Anna?” She’d never heard Simon sound so gentle. “The old Anna was great, don’t get me wrong, that’s why I wanted to work with her in the first place. But what if the old Anna is gone? There’s a whole new Anna in her place. I like her a lot. It seems like Ben did, too.”
She dropped her head into her hands.
“I’m scared, Simon. Wh
at if it all falls apart? What if I fall apart?”
Simon put his hand on her shoulder.
“Then you’ll put yourself back together again. You’ve done it before, you can do it again. If you don’t want him—if you really don’t want him—ignore me. But I don’t want you to let this go because of fear.”
She looked up at him.
“I know I can put myself back together. But I don’t want to have to do that again! I’m fine now. I’ll be fine without him.” She felt tears come to her eyes again and willed them away. “Why are you saying all of this—you didn’t even want me with Ben! You didn’t even like him.”
Simon stood up.
“I liked him fine. I didn’t want you with him because I thought he was going to hurt you. I want you to be happy, Anna. Obviously, yes, I want you to make both you and me a lot of money, but—don’t ever tell anyone I said this—your happiness matters even more. And the thing is . . . Ben made you happy.”
He walked to the door.
“I don’t want to push you on this; you need to do whatever you need to do here. Either way, I’m here for you. Just tell me if you need me to leak your breakup to whatever magazine and I’ll do it. No judgments. Ever, you know that, right?”
She stood up and hugged him.
“I know. Thank you for that.”
He turned around, his hand on the doorknob.
“I saw the way you looked at him, too.”
She sat still in her office for a long time after Simon left. Then she took out her phone.
Do you think he meant it?
Penny didn’t ask what this was about. She didn’t have to.
Do you?
Anna didn’t answer. Then, Penny texted her again.
Do you hope he meant it?
Anna put her head down on her desk and didn’t respond for a long time. Then she texted back one word.
Yes.
Twenty -Three
It was Monday morning, and Ben was getting ready for work. Running late, getting ready for work. At first, he didn’t even hear the knock at his door.
While We Were Dating Page 30
