They stayed like that for minutes. Soft, slow kisses. His body ached for her, but he didn't push further. He could have suggested they meet up in the bathroom and join the mile-high club, or get a blanket and fool around underneath, but he didn't.
He couldn't. It was hard enough walking away two days ago. If he had her again now, there was no way he'd say goodbye again.
But kissing her? He wasn't strong enough not to do that.
"Oh, Ben..." Her breathy whisper slid past her lips after several minutes. "What are we doing?"
"Mmm." He tilted his forehead toward hers, their breath mixing together. "I don't know, Aria. I don't fucking know."
He was surprised at how strained his words sounded. Pained. Aching. Everything he felt inside leaking out.
"It's a long flight," he finally said. "Let's just take that nap."
She nodded, her face a strange mixture of disappointment and relief. "Okay."
Ben pushed up the armrest between them, and she curled in to his side with her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm tight around her, trying to memorize exactly how she felt.
He hadn't done enough of that this weekend. He'd loved their time together, and dreaded it ending, but he hadn't prepared himself for what it would be like after she was gone. He hadn't memorized the warmth of her skin, the curve of her neck when she lay against him, or the gentle smell of vanilla when he pressed his face to her hair.
He wasn't going to forget a thing this time.
Aria slid her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. "Wake me when we get to New York?"
"Of course." He kissed the top of her head. "Get some rest, movie star."
She chuckled sleepily. "Sure thing, Mr. Big Shot."
Ben had been on an airplane dozens of times, but this was the first flight he hoped never landed. He could stay floating in the clouds with Aria pressed against him forever.
Chapter Twelve
Aria ran her fingers through her hair, staring at her reflection in the hotel mirror. Silently, she mouthed her audition lines as she grabbed her mascara tube and pulled out the wand. Applying a few more coats to her lashes, she tried to bury the nerves fluttering in her stomach.
"You've got this, Aria Marie Reynolds," she muttered to herself. "You've got this."
Her cell phone rang from the counter top, and she clicked it on to speaker while she applied a bit more blush to her cheeks. "Hello?"
"Aria, have you been online today?" Her mother's voice sounded frantic.
"What?" She furrowed her brows and picked up a tube of lipstick next. "No. Why?"
"Someone on your flight yesterday snapped a picture of you."
Aria froze. With Ben.
"With your boyfriend," her mother continued. "All cuddled up and kissing him. The internet is ablaze with trying to figure out who is Aria Rose's mystery man."
"Shit." Aria sighed and picked up the phone, turning off the speaker and holding it up to her ear. She remembered one of the flight attendants with her phone out giving her furtive glances, and guessed she'd probably been the leak. "Mom, I can explain."
"Good, because I'd love to know why the paparazzi knows about your love life before your own mother. Who is this man and why has he not come over for dinner?"
Aria chuckled lightly. "He's not my boyfriend. We're not dating."
"Well, if he lives in Los Angeles, I expect him over for dinner soon."
"Not happening, Mom."
"Wasn't asking, Aria. Anyway, leave early for your audition because you might have some paparazzi issues in the lobby. They already know where you're staying."
Aria groaned. "Crap. I need to leave now then. I'll call you after the audition. Thanks for the heads up, Mom."
"Love you, baby. Kill them dead out there."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mother."
After hanging up the phone, she tossed it into her clutch along with her hotel key card. A wide-brimmed hat and giant sunglasses later, she was ready to go.
Stepping onto the elevator, she continued going over her lines in her head. This role was exciting, and she wanted to knock it out of the park. Murals had been her top choice, but the HBO show was her second choice and she wanted it just as badly. Aria stepped into the lobby after the elevator doors opened.
A frenzied-looking hotel clerk came rushing over to her. "Miss Rose?"
She offered him a wide smile. "Yes?"
"We've arranged for you to go out a side entrance." He gestured toward a hallway leading away from the main doors.
Aria frowned and looked to the revolving door that she'd entered last night. Lights began flashing, hands banged against the glass, and the shouting sounded like a dull roar.
"ARIA ROSE! ARIA ROSE! WHO ARE YOU DATING?"
"TELL US HIS NAME!"
"ARE YOU GETTING MARRIED?"
"IS THIS A STUNT FOR YOUR UPCOMING MOVIE?"
"ARE YOU IN LOVE?"
There were only about a dozen photographers, and yet, they had all the persistence and volume of a giant crowd.
Aria stepped back, her hand to her chest. "What the..."
"Please, miss. Follow me," the clerk said, pointing again to the back entrance.
Tears stung her eyes as she quickly followed him. It was all so overwhelming, and she didn’t know what to make of the situation. She'd never been followed by paparazzi before. A photo sold here or there, sure, but actual interest in her and her life? Never.
If anything, her biggest following had always been on social media. Photos she chose and shared with her fans. She loved the control of it, the ability to share herself with the world but in a way that still made her feel safe and comfortable. Her strength in marketing her image on those sites had really catapulted her career—apparently more than she’d even realized.
The clerk graciously showed her through a side entrance and into a waiting car service. "Please give us a call on your way back, and we'll make sure to have the side cleared for you to enter."
"Thank you. I will."
"Where are we headed, Miss Rose?" the driver called from the front seat.
Aria gave him the address and sat back in her seat. Her hands were shaking as she replayed all the things the reporters had been shouting. Opening her clutch while still trembling, she pulled at her phone and called the only person she could think of.
"Aria?" he answered the phone on the second ring.
"Ben..." Her voice caught, and she sniffed, trying to find her calm. "Have you seen the news?"
"I just did. Are you okay?"
"The hotel...a dozen photographers...everyone was shouting at me. I've never—Ben, I've never...I would never call them. You know I didn't do this, right?"
"Aria, I have no doubt you weren't involved. It was probably that flight attendant who kept staring at us. But, seriously, are you okay? You sound really worked up."
"Of course I'm worked up, Ben." Aria tossed her hand up in the air in frustration. "My photos are all over the internet. Photographers know what hotel I'm at. This isn't my life...this isn't who I am. I'm a private person."
Ben chuckled, and it irritated the crap out of her. "You're probably going to have a lot more of that in the years to come. Your career is on the rise."
Aria groaned, rubbing a hand to her face. "What if people figure out who the mystery man in the photo is? Ben, they're going to think..."
"They're not going to find out. I saw the photos and your hand is on my face in the majority of them. It's pretty hard to make out who it is."
"Really?" That was good news, at least. She couldn't have her relationship with Ben getting out there.
He'd be considered the stud who bagged the up-and-coming actress, but she'd be called the slut sleeping her way to the best roles.
"And even if they did find out, I'd never let them print a bad word about you." His voice lowered, almost husky. "You know that, right?"
She nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "Promise?"
"Yes. It'll all be okay," he ass
ured her.
His voice was so soothing that she felt herself calming down. This wasn't the end of the world. It was just a sign of her career flourishing.
It was a good thing. Right?
"I guess I just got really flustered by the attention. I like my privacy, and I definitely didn't like all the photographers out there yelling at me. The assumptions...I just don't want to be in the tabloids."
"Understandable," he replied gently. "But also, a hazard of the profession."
"I know. Sorry for calling," she said softly into the phone. "I know we said—"
"Don't ever be sorry for calling, Aria," he interrupted. "I'm here whenever you need me."
She was quiet for a moment, just enjoying hearing the sound of his breathing on the other end. "Goodbye, Ben."
"Goodbye, Aria."
She hung up the phone and tucked it back into her clutch. They were almost to her destination, and she had to concentrate on her audition. She didn't have time to worry about what the internet was saying about her, or her mystery man.
Chapter Thirteen
"Hey, Ben!" Arthur Atwood appeared in Ben's office doorway. "The deal is done. We've got the kid!"
"Great," Ben replied, leaning back in his chair. "We've got the script. Time to narrow down a list of directors. Let's get Creative Artists Agency on the phone. They represent half of Hollywood."
"Good idea." Arthur sat in the chair across his desk and started scrolling through his phone. "Although, we could always use Russell Rains again. He liked working with us, and he's great at what he does."
Ben nodded, considering it. "He is a great director, but...let's just see what other options are out there."
There was no doubt that Rains was one of the best, but Ben got an uneasy vibe from him sometimes. Rains was a notorious playboy, and everyone knew his penchant for a dramatic love life. Ben wasn't opposed to working with him again, but wanted to keep his options open.
His phone beeped from his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, excitement coursing through him to see Aria's name over the text. He opened it up—a photograph—and let out a laugh.
She was obviously in London, leaning forward and pretending to kiss the air, but the Big Ben clock tower was in the background so it looked like she was kissing the clock. Her text underneath read "I've always wanted to kiss Big Ben in London."
He quickly typed up a reply. He'd like that, too.
She answered almost immediately. A girl can dream.
"Who are you texting?" Arthur asked. "You look like a Catholic school girl over there giggling."
Heat flooded Ben’s face, and he put away his phone. "Nobody. Did you get CAA on the line?"
"Working on it," Arthur replied. "But, I'm not stupid, you know."
Ben furrowed his brow. "Did I say...?"
"Our lead actress is all over the tabloids this week about a mystery romance on a flight to New York. You're over here texting like my teenage daughter on her way to prom. I can put two and two together."
Damn. Ben had thought he was safe since most of the photos only showed the back of his face, or a sliver of the side. Aria was the one more prominently featured, unfortunately. Arthur was definitely smart. Ben was glad to have him on his team.
"We're not dating," Ben clarified. "But yes, I'm the mystery guy in the papers."
"That's even worse." Arthur groaned, rubbing a hand across his face. "You don't have real feelings for her, but you're willing to risk both of your careers for a roll in the sheets? Fuck, if you're hard up, I know a massage parlor that—"
"Arthur, I'm fine," Ben interrupted him. "We're all adults. It's not a big deal."
"For you personally, maybe not. For the company and for her career? It's a huge fucking deal. We're trying to bring Shepherd Films back to the main stage, and you're going to make us look like a side show act if people think we cast based on who will sleep with the boss."
"That's not what happened at all and you know it," Ben said, his tone angry and deep.
"It doesn't matter what I know. It matters how it'll look to the press."
"Fine. We'll talk to public relations. Figure out how to spin it." Ben certainly didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize Aria's career. He didn't want other studios or producers thinking she slept her way to the top, because nothing was further from the truth. Hell, if she wanted to curry favors and get ahead, she'd use her real last name and her cousin's connections. But she didn't want any of that.
She wanted it on her own merit, and he wasn't going to be the one to mess it up for her.
Glancing back at his phone and her unanswered text message, he deleted their conversation. They needed to stick with the original plan. It was one weekend. And then one plane ride.
But it was over.
Chapter Fourteen
Turning to his computer, Ben clicked on the website link for Entertainment News. He needed to be up to date on the latest gossip around Hollywood, particularly when considering casting and people for this new film.
They had a director lined up now, and it wasn't Russell Rains. It was a new kid with a lot of heat behind him. Shepherd Films was trying to appeal to the millennial generation, so he'd decided to cast only the newest talent on the scene to be part of the movie.
The buzz about it was doing great so far, and if Scarlet's Letters turned out to be a hit, he was fairly confident he could restore Shepherd Films to its former glory.
Actress Aria Rose Cast as Lead in HBO Mini-Series About First Woman to Pass Bar Exam in New York, Katherine Stoneman.
She was the very first article that popped out on him from the page. Ben was proud of her accomplishment. Aria had the talent to play a suffragette, and she certainly had the old-school Hollywood look to play a woman in the late 1800s.
He read the article fully then leaned back from his desk, resting his head against the back of his chair. Last time he'd seen Aria was on the plane on the way to that audition. If he didn't count the picture she sent him from London a few days later.
The last month had been all work, and he was loving every minute of it. He'd thought being assigned to a dead-end studio was a demotion, but he was fast learning that it was one of the most exciting challenges of his life.
The problem wasn't the job, however. It was going home. A glass house with a view of the Hollywood sign. Beautiful modern architecture and clean lines. Most people would envy him, and he knew he should be grateful for the life he was able to live.
But all those clean lines of glass and metal was cold and unforgiving when the only occupant was him and the memories a failed marriage.
He missed the quaint coziness of Aria's apartment overlooking the beach. If he was being honest with himself, plain and simple, he missed her.
She hadn't contacted him since London, apparently busy filming the HBO series. Heat had died down slightly about her mystery man, but the Public Relations Department's strategy of “say nothing and it will go away” was definitely not working.
Ben reached the bottom of the article and saw another one with her name, letting out a long sign.
Actress Aria Rose Spotted Dining in New York City with Mystery Boyfriend,
Ben's teeth clenched together, and he tried to identify what he was feeling. His stomach turned because he knew for a fact that this mystery man sighting was not him. Is she dating someone?
Ben copied the link and sent it to her in an email with the subject line. "Need to Talk."
Fuck. I shouldn't have done that. He immediately regretted sending the email, but it was already gone.
About two minutes later, his cell rang and Aria's picture popped up on the screen.
"Hello," he answered.
"'Need to talk.'" She repeated his words, sounding slightly off put. "That's a bit rude, don't you think?"
"It got you to call," he teased.
"Ben."
He took a deep breath. "Fine. You're right—it was rude."
"Thank you." There was silence
over the line for a minute. "I'm not dating anyone, if that's what you're wondering."
Ben immediately let out a long breath he hadn't even realized he was holding.
"It was dinner with Travis." Her co-star on Scarlet's Letters—Ben liked him. "He was in New York and wanted to catch up."
"That's nice of him."
"He actually had an interesting proposition…" Aria paused again. "It might solve some of our PR issues."
"Really?" Ben was happy for any solution at this point. He was hours away from firing the entire Public Relations Department on his end, since it shouldn't be so difficult to squash one damn story. "What's his idea?"
"Travis is—and I'm only telling you this because he gave me permission, but it needs to stay between us, promise?"
"Okay," Ben agreed, feeling wary about where this was going.
"Travis is gay, and he's not ready to come out. His family is...let's just say, not understanding." Aria sighed, and she sounded so sad that he wished he could reach through the phone and hug her. "He wants to be my Mystery Man."
Ben furrowed his brow. "Wait…what? He wants you to be his beard?"
"Yeah, and I'm totally fine with that if it will help him. He was so distraught, Ben. We need to do this for him."
Ben chuckled quietly, unable to keep the smile from his face. God, he loved how kind she was, how much she always did to help others. After thinking it over for a moment, he gripped the phone a little tighter. "You know, this might actually work out well. Tabloid stories about co-stars dating can do wonders for movie promotions. Scarlet's Letters would definitely be helped by it. Travis would get to keep his secret a little while longer—though I wish he didn't feel like he has to. And you and I..."
"We will be a distant secret long over that no one needs to find out about," she finished for him. "No more rumors circulating about my love life, and no possibility of people thinking I slept my way into a role."
Distant secret. She wasn't wrong, of course, but it was hard to hear. He was beginning to wonder how distant he really wanted them to be.