All she did know was he had been very clear—he didn't want to date her. He wasn't ready to date anyone. Period.
She wasn't going to push that. There was no positive outcome for her doing that. The man she'd eventually end up with, he'd want her no matter what. No matter how. He'd want her.
Ben wasn't ready. And, truthfully, she wasn't either.
But for him? God, she wished she was.
Slowly, Aria pushed herself up into a sitting position, pulling the sheet around her naked body. Tears slid down her cheeks and she let them come. It was a release she needed after two days on such a high. They'd climbed to the top of the mountain and now she was falling face first into the valley.
And she was okay with that. She just needed to...she needed to get through it. Aria was nothing if not resilient.
When she felt the heaviness lift from her heart, the catharsis of her tears providing her the breather she desperately needed, Aria got out of bed and headed to the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, she was clean, dressed, and famished. Her stomach growling, she made her way into the kitchen to cook a quick breakfast before she had to head to her parent's house. She and her mother/manager—or as she referred to her lovingly, her 'momager'—needed to meet and go over the plan for her next steps.
Aria came to a halt when she saw the note on her kitchen counter. It was Ben's messy scribbles, and even though she'd only seen his writing a few times in the margins of her scripts, it was instantly recognizable.
Anything you need, call me. This was real, Aria.
-Ben
His phone number and email were scrawled at the bottom of the note. Aria ran her finger over the ink, feeling the words etched into the paper. She slid her phone from her pocket and plugged in his number and email into her contacts. There was no way in hell she was going to call him, but it couldn't hurt to keep the number.
At least, that's what she was going to tell herself.
Swallowing hard, she turned toward the stove and began prepping what she needed to poach some eggs. While those were cooking, she brewed a quick cup of coffee on her Keurig and sipped the delectable black coffee—her favorite.
Despite her job, and her desire to become famous, she happily lived a no-frills lifestyle. She liked her comfy, no-fuss apartment overlooking the beach.
The insistent peal of her cell phone broke the silence; its vibration inside her pocket bringing her back to reality. She retrieved the phone and checked the screen before answering. "Hi, Mom."
"Hey, sweet baby girl. You on your way over?" Her mother's voice was so soft and serene through the phone. Just the sound of it calmed Aria’s anxieties.
"In a minute. I’m finishing up breakfast."
"Okay, well I've been looking at these scripts, and I think we should try out for all of them except the sci-fi one. It's..."
"Weird as fuck," Aria finished her sentence.
"Well, yes. That's certainly one way to put it. You never know, though. Weird movies like that sometimes hit it big."
Aria propped the phone between her shoulder and ear as she scooped her eggs from the boiling water and placed them in a bowl. "Right, but I don't want to do that. I don't want to do a movie I'm not excited about, even if it might be the next big blockbuster."
"The manager side of me finds your ethics very strict." Her mother chuckled. "But the mom side of me is super proud."
"Thanks, Mom." She took a bite of her eggs. God, that hit the spot perfectly. "So, we're deciding between the HBO mini-series in New York, or the Victorian-movie in London?"
"Or the artist movie here in Los Angeles, Murals. I think that might be my favorite so far, but they've got people like Jennifer Lawrence and Natalie Portman coming in to audition for that."
"So, there's no chance I'd get that role."
"Aria Marie Reynolds, I did not raise you to be a quitter. You're just as good as any of those ladies."
“Mom..." Aria began to argue, because there was no way she was in the same league as either of those actresses—though she certainly wished she was.
"No arguments, Aria. There's always ways to make it happen. With a lot of practice, you could give the performance of a lifetime in that audition and they'd hire you on the spot. Or, we could offer to take less money. Budget always talks in movies, you know. We could also call your cousin. I'm sure he'd put a good word in for you after his success in that new silly superhero movie."
"That movie was not silly," Aria countered. "And we're not calling him. I'm doing this on my own. I don't want his help."
"Fine, but as your manager, I think we should be utilizing all the connections we can find."
Aria's mind drifted to Ben as she finished the last of her eggs. She had no doubt if she called him up and asked to star in the studio's next film, he'd make it happen. Just like she had no doubt if she called her cousin, he'd catapult her career. But that's exactly why she didn't go by her last name in the public eye.
Aria Rose was her way of earning it for herself, and on her own merit. That might be foolish in the cutthroat world of Hollywood, but she was determined to do it anyways.
"I'll be over soon, Mom. Let's get auditions set up for New York and London, and if you can get the L.A. one."
"On it, baby girl. Drive safe."
"Love you, Mom," Aria said before hanging up the phone.
Five minutes later, Aria was closing her front door behind her. As she locked it, a wave of sadness washed through her, clutching at her chest. Her apartment had been a cozy retreat for the weekend with a fantasy man, and closing the door made it all seem so final.
They were over.
I'm being ridiculous. She shook her head and took the stairs down two at a time, got in her car, and headed to her parent's house.
"Aria!" Simone, her baby sister, greeted her with a hug the moment she walked into their parent's house. "You look different. Why do you look different?"
"I do?" Aria furrowed her brows.
"You do. Tegan, doesn't she look different?" Simone turned to their other sister, the middle daughter. She was only two years younger than Aria. Simone was the baby of the family, and a senior in high school, while Tegan was working as a choreographer and dancer in Hollywood—also with the help of their mother.
"She looks..." Tegan tapped her chin with an index finger. "Oh, shit. You got some, didn't you?"
Warmth crept into Aria’s face. "Tegan!"
Tegan laughed and draped an arm around Simone's shoulder. "That look, little sister, is the look of a woman who had really good sex last night."
"Gross." Simone scrunched up her face.
"Jesus, Tegan. She's too young to hear things about my sex life," Aria scolded her sister. "Not appropriate."
Tegan just shrugged. "Fuck, I was doing worse at seventeen than hearing about sex."
"Anyway," Aria tried to steer the conversation away. "Where are the parentals?" she asked, using the nickname the sisters used for their parents.
"Dad's watching television in the living room. Mom's at the dining room table with an insane amount of scripts," Simone said, walking toward the living room.
Aria followed her, smiling the moment she spotted her father. He was propped up in a big, comfy recliner watching Storage Wars—a television show about pawnshops and storage unit auctions that he was obsessed with.
She leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Hi, Daddy!"
"Hey, princess," he replied, then pointed at the television. "Look at that lamp. He's trying to sell it for four hundred dollars, saying it's centuries old...but it's electric. Idiot scammers. They don't know who they're messing with!"
"Sounds intense." Aria watched for a moment with him, then squeezed his shoulder. "I'm going to go find Mom. You doing okay? Can I get you anything?"
"I'm right as rain, princess. Your mom takes great care of me." His multiple sclerosis had stolen most of his ability to walk, and he needed a lot of help getting around.
Aria hated seeing him
so dependent and disabled, but his spirit never seemed to be affected by any of it. He was still the lively, loving father she'd grown up with, and for that, she was really appreciative.
"Aria?" her mother called out.
She headed for the dining room. "Hey, Mom."
"Hi, sweet girl." She kissed her on the cheek when Aria bent down to hug her. "Check this out." She turned her laptop for Aria to read.
"I got the audition?" Aria gasped. "For the HBO show?"
"Yep. And I've booked you on a flight for New York City tomorrow. You'll audition Wednesday, and fly to London on Thursday. You're auditioning for the Victorian movie on Friday. Next week, you're back in Los Angeles for a crap ton of photo shoots for Scarlet's Letters promotion."
"But, I've got to memorize the lines and practice! That's not enough time!" Aria began to feel panicked and nauseous. Auditions were terrifying—they always had been.
"Relax, sweetheart. You'll do just fine. You've got two days and a lot of time on planes to memorize everything. You're a natural."
Aria nodded, trying to push down her fear as a queasiness threatened to overtake her. She'd felt the same nervous flutter in her stomach before her Scarlet's Letters audition, too. Actually, she had vomited right beforehand in a trash can outside the studio, and was certain she'd pass out the moment she stepped on stage. Luckily, she'd aced the role instead, but it didn't get less scary with each new venture. "Any word on Murals?"
Her mother shook her head. "Not yet, but I just got an email that Jennifer Lawrence is officially in talks for it."
Aria's body sagged. She felt crushed. She'd been looking at all these scripts for weeks, trying to narrow it down, and she'd told herself that she'd be fine with any of them. And yet, the news that Murals wasn't happening bothered her more than she thought it would. "Damn. I really loved that script."
"I know, honey. I'm sorry. I'll keep tabs on it, though. You never know."
She sighed, sitting in the chair next to her mother. "So…New York?"
"Here." Her mother handed her the HBO script. "Read it over and then we can run lines in a few hours."
Aria turned to the first page and took a deep breath. She could do this. In fact, it was exciting. She would be excited about this. Her career was moving along, and she was more than ready to launch herself into Hollywood stardom.
Chapter Eleven
"The writing is terrible," Ben argued. "There's no way in hell this studio is picking it up."
Arthur Atwood sat across the desk from him, his hands folded in his lap. "Okay, well, that's all we've got at the moment. So, do you have any bright ideas?"
Ben sat back in his office chair, thinking it over. "I know I've only been here two days, Arthur. I get that, but I'm here because we need to take Shepherd Films in a new direction. We need quality scripts, and the writing is everything. It's make or break it."
"I agree, but the best scripts come with the largest price tags. You've seen the company budget. We're in the red until Scarlet's Letters comes out, and we're banking on that hitting big."
"Scarlet's Letters is going to be huge. I have no doubt." Ben stood from his desk and began pacing the room. "We need new talent. Talent that doesn't have a huge price tag yet, who we can pay in gross points on the backend."
Arthur thought it over for a few minutes, and Ben kept pacing.
"I do know of one new writer who’s been getting some buzz," Arthur finally said, clapping his hands. "He won a few independent film writers awards, recently graduated New York University. We could always go meet with him, see if he'll write something for us. Or what he's already got written."
"Schedule it. I want to meet with him tomorrow," Ben instructed Arthur, then walked out of his office to where his assistant was sitting. "Jackson, book Arthur and I two tickets to New York City tonight. Hotel reservations through Thursday, as well."
"Yes, sir," the young man said, already clicking away on his computer.
"And don't use company funds. I'll pay for it." Ben handed the man his credit card. Overhead costs needed to be cut fast or people would have to be let go from their jobs—something Ben wasn't willing to do. He'd much rather shoulder some of the financial burden himself.
Ben had spent most of Monday catching up on everything he needed to know about the company, and today he'd wanted to hit the ground running. He still had a lot to learn about Shepherd Films, but they couldn't afford to wait for him to study every detail. He'd learn as he went, and had Arthur to help him in the meantime.
"Jackson's booking us a flight and hotel," Ben informed Arthur as he walked back into the office.
Arthur nodded. "Good. Trying to reach the writer now."
A few hours later, he and Arthur were seated first class on their way to New York. Arthur was in the row behind him and already asleep and snoring very loudly, even though they'd only taken off a few minutes ago.
Ben sighed and leaned his head back against the headrest. Murmuring at the front of the cabin began to grate on his nerves. He had Arthur kicking the back of his seat, and flight attendants excitedly chatting in front of him. So much for a nap.
A small smile spread across his face. Naps would forever make him think of Aria now. He couldn't help it. Leaving her apartment Monday morning had been one of the worst moments of his life. Sleeping in his own bed last night...torture.
It had never felt so empty before. He'd never felt so empty before.
"Aria Rose is back there!" The flight attendant spoke just loud enough for him to catch what she was saying.
Ben's eyes flew open. Aria?
"No!" The other flight attendant looked thrilled. "She's on the plane? Why is she in coach?"
"I don't know," whispered the first flight attendant. "Maybe we should move her up?"
Ben reached above him and clicked the call button. A ring sounded and the flight attendants immediately stood up straighter. The first one smoothed her skirt, plastered on a smile and walked over to him.
"Good afternoon, sir. Can I get you something?"
Ben pulled out his wallet, handing over a credit card. "I'd like to upgrade Ms. Rose's ticket to first class. This seat here." He gestured to the empty one next to him.
"Certainly, sir." She looked elated, taking the card. "I'll let her know immediately."
"Thank you," he replied. His heart was already pounding in his chest. They'd only been apart two days, and now they were on the same flight? He wasn't sure what it meant, or if it was some type of sign, but he sure as hell wasn't about to ignore it.
"Ben Lawson. Are you stalking me now?" Aria appeared at the end of his row, one hand on her hip and a devilish smile on her lips. She was wearing dark jeans under tall, leather boots with an oversized cable-knit sweater and wide-brimmed hat. Despite her attempt to hide as much of herself as possible—probably from the paparazzi—he had no trouble remembering exactly what was hiding underneath those layers.
Ben stood and took her carry-on bag from her other hand. He opened the overhead storage and carefully slid her bag in next to his, latching it closed. "If I was, I'm certainly not doing a great job hiding it."
She stood there for a moment, staring at him, not taking the bait. The dreamy gaze in her blue-gray eyes was sultry and magnetic, as if she saw he was hiding behind humor instead of saying what he really wanted to say. Finally, she tilted her head to the side and smiled wide. "It's good to see you again, Ben."
He slid his tongue across his lower lip. "It's good to see you, too, Aria."
Her cheeks bloomed with a light blush, but she tilted her chin up. "Can I have the window seat?" she asked.
Ben chuckled. He loved her forwardness. "Whatever you'd like."
She batted long lashes at him, swinging her long blond hair over her shoulder. "I like that motto."
They both sat side-by-side, her at the window and him in the aisle seat. She took off her hat, tucking it into the pocket of the seat in front of her. "So, Ben, why are you going to New York? Aside from badly stalkin
g me?"
"Meeting a new writer about a script," he replied. "I'm guessing you're going for the HBO script audition?"
"I am."
"So…didn't want to stay in Los Angeles?" Fuck, he hated how much he hated the idea of her living across the country.
Her lips twitched. "They're in talks with a different actress for that role."
"Too bad." And he meant it. He made a mental note to call the studio and demand they audition Aria. They'd be idiots not to.
"No. Ben, no." She raised her index finger and shook her head. "I see your mind working. Do not interfere."
"Who, me?" Ben put a hand to his chest, his best shocked expression on his face. "I would never do that."
She wasn't buying it. "Ben, I'm being serious. Don't."
He sighed loudly, dropping his shoulders. "Fine. If you change your mind, let me know."
"I won't."
He shrugged. "We'll see."
"Hey, Ben?" She reached over and squeezed his forearm. "Thanks for the seat upgrade. I've never been in first class before."
He didn't reply, just placed his hand over hers.
She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. "Would you hate me if I got some rest instead of chatting? I'm pretty tired today. Been practicing for these auditions the last two days nonstop."
"Auditions? Plural?"
"New York and London." She yawned, tilting her head toward him. Her eyes drifted closed as she placed her head on his shoulder, sending a thrill through his body.
"I've missed taking naps with you," he whispered into her ear, brushing a lock of hair from her face.
Aria giggled and cuddled into him tighter. "Free agent flight?"
"I could live with that."
She tilted up to look at him, and he pressed his lips to hers. Gentle, soft kisses that were pure affection and enjoyment. It was different from their usual frenzied passion, but felt as intimate, if not more. He slid his tongue across her lips and she opened for him, lifting her hand to his face to cup his cheek.