Page 53 of Off Script
While Ben may not be excited to be home, the same cannot be said for his mother. He drops our carry-on suitcases onto the front porch, and she launches herself into his arms for a bear hug. Size-wise, they are opposites. She is as petite as he is large.
“It’s so good to see you, Ben. I've missed you.” Stepping from the embrace, Mrs. Sutton holds out both her hands to me.
Gracelessly, I grab them, unsure of what she wants from me, but she quickly pulls me in for a hug as well. Despite being strangers, I happily sink into her embrace, after having been starved of motherly affection for years.
“You must be Carlisle. Thank you for coming.” She links her arm through mine and pulls me inside the house leaving Ben to trail behind us with our bags. “Ben didn’t tell me much about you, so you’ll have to fill me in. You live in LA too, right? How long have you two been dating? How did y’all meet?”
“Christ, the Spanish have nothing on you, Mom. Stop with the inquisition." His teasing, mischievous tone removes the weight from his words, but his next words shoot an arrow through my heart. "Carlisle and I are just friends.”
Just friends?
Remembering Ben’s earlier request to roll with it, I slap a smile on my face and glance at Ben. The banal expression on his face gives nothing away.
I guess being an actor comes in handy in these types of situations.
Walking into the house, the interior is an extension of the cheerful exterior. Just inside the front door is the living room, decorated in shades of blue and white. Dark wood antiques are scattered throughoutthe space, in pleasant contrast to the pale upholstered furniture and the ornately patterned rug.
“Just friends, huh?”
A feminine, sultry voice coming from my left startles me, and I spin towards it. An exotic woman stands at the foot of the stairs, her eyes trained on Ben, as if they are the only two people in the room. She’s tall and willowy, and while she’s very striking, there is something unpleasantly sharp about her features.
I don’t know who she is or why she’s standing in his parents’ home like she owns the place, but my hackles rise immediately. Without any reason other than intuition, I instinctively don’t like her.
“Oh, there you are, Kelsey. I didn’t realize that y’all had arrived already. Come meet Ben’s friend, Carlisle.” Ben’s mother motions for Kelsey to join us.
Kelsey glides across the floor with the grace of a prima ballerina dancing a solo, knowing that all the attention is on her and loving every second of it. An insincere smile is affixed to her face as she stops in front of me.
“Carlisle, is it? I’m Kelsey, Cole’s wife.”
Ben never mentioned his brother having a wife, but I have the impression that there’s a heck of a lot that Ben has omitted. Per usual.
The air is thick with unspoken conflict and tension. I don’t understand the dynamics at play, but I sense how complicated they are.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kelsey,” I reply, surprising myself at how even and friendly my voice sounds.
“Is it? I wish I could say the same,” she sneers, lifting her eyebrows. She purses her lips in a slight pout and directs her next words towards Ben. “I’m guessing you haven’t told her about our history then. Maybe you really are just friends.”
Behind me, I hear Ben breathing slowly and deeply, like he’s trying to maintain control over his emotions. When I sneak a peek, his face is cold and expressionless.
Kelsey openly scans me up and down. The downturn of her mouth makes it apparent that she finds me lacking. Waving her hand through the air in my general direction, she wrinkles her nose in distaste. “She doesn’t really look like your type, Ben. You can do better.”
Ben’s mother apologizes to me and admonishes Kelsey to mind her manners.
I stand frozen, dumbfounded at Kelsey’s blatantly hostile, dismissive attitude towards me. I might not be as affected as I am if her words didn’t pierce my armor, but like a psychic, Kelsey has voiced my own fears aloud.
I’m not glamorous or uniquely beautiful. I'm not the type of woman you'd expect a movie star to date. It would be easy for Ben to find someone far prettier and more sophisticated than me.
Ben looks as if he’s about to say something, but he closes his mouth and stays quiet.
I hate how quickly Kelsey has me questioning my worthiness and Ben’s attraction to me.
And I hate it even more that Ben does nothing to defend me.
Unperturbed, Kelsey saunters to Ben’s side and brushes a quick kiss on his cheek before seductively drawing her fingers lightly down his face to his neck.
“Don’t start this shit now, Kelsey,” Ben replies tersely in a tone I’ve never heard him use before, batting her hand down. “Where’s your husband? Shouldn’t he be keeping you on a leash?”
SOS, I repeat, SOS.We need to escape this situation that seems quickly headed towards unmitigated disaster.
