Page 96 of Off Script
“Only a few shots, but…” She trails off.
For fuck’s sake, shehastaken something.
“What else, Willa?"
“I don’t know!” She yells, breathing heavily. After a moment, she continues, “Thad gave me… some pills. Ecstasy, I think, but it could… have been something else. I just wanted to numb out and not feel anything. I’m…so tired of everything. Of all the mixed signals. Of never feeling good enough for you or anyone else. I’m just so… fucking tired of being lonely and sad.”
“Okay. It’s okay. I’m on my way. We’ll deal with this together. I’ll call you when I get there,” I say to placate her. “But don’t drink any more alcohol or take any more pills, Willa. I mean it.”
Grabbing my wallet, I let the hotel room door slam shut behind me as I hustle down the thickly carpeted hallway towards the elevators.
It takes a few minutes to rouse a hotel chauffeur to drive me back to the nightclub, but we’re on our way there now. In the meantime, I call Evan to see if he’s still at the club, but he doesn’t answer his phone. Then I call Thad, and he answers on the third ring.
“Yo, man! You want to meet up with us?” He shouts at me over the loud music. I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s still at the club. They must have gotten separated, and Willa was too drunk to find them. Hopefully, Thad can locate Willa and keep her safe until I arrive.
“Willa called me because she can’t find you. She doesn’t sound good. I’m on my way to pick her up, but can you stay with her until I get there?”
“Sorry, no can do. We moved clubs like an hour ago. She was making out with two dudes and didn’t want to come with us.” He laughs likeit’s no big deal that he gave Willa drugs and then abandoned her at a club in a foreign country.
“You left her there alone? You asshole!” I seethe.
“Calm the fuck down, Ben. I’m not her dad or her babysitter. She’s a fucking adult, and she didn’t want to come with us.” He snickers again and I grit my teeth so hard that my jaw might break. “Besides, it looked like she was having plenty of fun. It’s not like she wasn’t doing anything she didn’t want to do.”
I hang up on him.
33
Carlisle
Somehow during the last few days of the press tour, my nerves settled, and I was feeling better about the situation. It still sucked, don’t get me wrong, but I was breathing a little easier. Each time I worried that I hadn’t heard from Ben, I closed my eyes and imagined us on a beach together at Christmas, and then my blood pressure returned to normal.
It also helped that we were on the downhill slope. Only a couple more days until he would return stateside, and we could once again live in our little bubble in his Hollywood Hills compound.
But then Ben called this morning and dropped his latest bomb, stirring all my anxieties back up.
I can’t believe that Ben told me he loved me. I want to believe that he does, but the timing of his declaration feels suspicious. Possibly even manipulative. It's upsetting that the first time I heard those words from him were in response to another crisis about his fauxmance with Willa.
I hated telling Ben that I need space from him, but I do. I hope a little time will provide clarity for both of us. I wonder if these next few days will go by faster if I’m not constantly waiting around to talk tohim? Perhaps knowing that Ben won’t be contacting me will make it easier.
Since Ben left, I've been staying off and on at his house, mostly because his kitchen is easy to work in and provides the most beautiful backdrop for photos of the new recipes I've been adding to my social media accounts. But also, because it makes me feel closer to Ben to be in his space, with reminders of him everywhere.
I was right in the middle of making snickerdoodle blondies when he called to deliver the bad news. After we hung up, I forced myself to keep working. I can’t focus on my personal life right now. For my mental health, I need to focus on something else, so I continued working.
After those are out of the oven and cooling, I made classic gingerbread cookies. While those bake, I begin to assemble the dough for dark chocolate orange thumbprint cookies. I'm working on my12 Days of Christmas Cookiesseries for my cooking accounts. I've already finished the first nine recipes, so once I complete these recipes and get them photographed, the series will be complete.
Since Harper initially broached the idea of turning my cooking blog and social media channels into a full-time job, I’ve been posting new recipes regularly. I went out on a limb and sent emails to several of the food bloggers that I have followed for years asking if they would repost one of my new recipes. With their help, my social media reach is growing and I’m breathing a little easier.
I could ask Ben for help. If he commented on, or even liked, one of my recipes, I’d probably gain tens of thousands of followers overnight, but I won’t do that. I don’t want to ride on Ben’s coattails, and I don’t want anyone in the media to wonder why he suddenly promoted a recipe from an unknown foodie blogger. Something like that could cause unnecessary drama for him given his arrangement with Willa. Idon’t want to put him in that position, so I’ve continued to keep my cooking accounts a secret.
I hear my phone ring, and I groan. Dusting my hands off on my apron, I answer the phone. “Hey Harper.” Ever since Ben delivered his bad news, I’ve been expecting her call.
“Hey, girl.” Even from her greeting, the wariness is evident in her voice. “Have you seen the news yet?”
“I haven’t seen anything because I haven’t wanted to look, but Ben called me hours ago to tell me about it.”
“Oh, thank goodness! He must already be out then.” She lets out a whoosh, her relief evident. “I felt like you needed a head’s up, but I didn’t really want to be the one to tell you. You holding up okay?”
“I’m okay, I guess.” My mind is still reeling about the situation, but then I get stuck on something Harper said. “What do you mean that he must beoutalready?”
