Page 27 of Off Script
I twitch my mouth to the side. “I think he means that he’s bartending at a business dinner.”
“That makes sense.” Glancing at her phone for the time, Harper shoves one more handful of popcorn into her mouth before announcing, “I’m off to Philip’s. Have fun with Ben but remember to be careful. Keep me updated!”
“Will do,” I promise, hugging her goodbye.
Ok. Talk soon.
I play it cool and don’t type anything else, even though there are so many things I want to say.
Instead, I grab the remote and resume the show. Every few minutes, I check the time and wait impatiently for his call until I eventually fall asleep on the couch.
9
Ben
To call the gathering at Jada’s mansion a dinner party is misnomer. It’s an industry business meeting disguised as a social event, fueled primarily by egos and alcohol.
Throngs of people are scattered throughout the first floor of Jada’s impressive home. Hushed conversations are peppered with polite laughter as everyone remains on their best behavior. But it doesn’t take long before the alcohol kicks in, and the volume increases substantially. That’s when the real wheeling and dealing begins.
From across the room, I see one of the Studio 67 marketing executives, Paxton Varner, striding towards me.
I clap him on the back. “Paxton. Good to see, as always.”
“You ready for the next month of publicity?” He rubs his hands together, anticipating that the films will translate into box office gold during the holiday season.
“As ready as I can be. I’m looking forward to the travel,” I lie glibly. I’m not looking forward to it at all, but it’s a necessary evil when you’re an actor.
“Great, great. When I touched base with Jada, it sounded like she has your side of things covered. Publicity prep gets underway next week.”
As actors, we undergo extensive media training before promotional tours. We rehearse fielding questions and run through practice interviews until it becomes second nature. Everything is selected beforehand—the movie clips, the funny stories we share, the interview questions—to lessen the likelihood that something unexpected pops up that could sabotage the movie’s publicity plan. However, reporters love to go rogue and insert unapproved questions during interviews, especially if there’s any hint of something scandalous brewing in an actor’s personal life.
Paxton drones on while I sip my glass of red wine, grateful for the cushion that alcohol provides. “You and Willa will be front and center, obviously. The test audiences love your chemistry, so we want to play that up by having you to do mainly joint interviews.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” I readily concur. Sharing the spotlight with Willa will make the press tour easier and more enjoyable.
“I thought you’d be happy. I believe Willa will be here tonight too." Paxton smirks at me and adds, "But you probably already know that.”
“That's what I heard,” I reply benignly, ignoring Paxton’s implication that Willa and I have an ongoing personal relationship. Which we do, but it isn’t romantic.
After meeting at a casting call years ago, Willa and I became fast friends. When we read jointly for our roles inCaptain Commander, our natural rapport translated well onscreen, much to the delight of the film’s casting agents and producers. While we play romantic partners in the film, we’ve never been anything but friends in real life, though rumors have circulated in the tabloids about us before. Anytime two single stars are photographed together, people speculate that they’re dating, so I’m not surprised that Paxton has heard the rumors.
A few minutes later, I excuse myself and slip into the bathroom to check my phone again before we sit down for dinner. Still nothing from Carlisle. I knew what I said last night would upset her, but I didn’t realize that it would be the impetus to ghost me.
In desperation, I shoot off one more text to her.
I miss you.
I wash my hands and walk into the hallway when I feel my phone vibrating in my suit pocket. My heart rate accelerates. Praying that it’s Carlisle calling in response to my latest text, I turn my heel, but don’t manage to get far before I’m stopped and pulled into a conversation with two Lyonsfilms insiders.
Unwilling to screw up this opportunity, I briefly engage with them. We talk aboutLosing Love,and I mention my interest in the film, but my mind is splintered. At the first lull in conversation, I politely excuse myself and move to a deserted hallway to discretely check my phone.
I smile widely as relief floods my body when I see that Carlisle called. Quickly, I tap out two texts to her, and I’m thrilled when she replies.
With a smile still on my face, I walk back into the main living area feeling much calmer. I spot Willa near the front door, and she eagerly motions me over. Grateful to see a friendly face, I navigate my way through the mass of people to reach my pint-sized co-star, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek and a long hug.
“Benji! Or do you prefer to be called by your title as the Sexiest Person of the Year now?" she teases.
When Willa first started calling me Benji, I made the mistake of objecting too strenuously, so, of course, the nickname stuck. I’ve learned to tolerate it, but she is absolutely the only person who isallowed to call me that. But I much prefer Benji to the other option she mentioned.
