Page 110 of This Changes Everything

It was a scorching-hot November, and Ken had thrown me into the fire. I was working closely with him on a brand-new prestige, hour-long drama that had already been picked up for series. There was something about how Ken was working with me that felt different. He would sit at the edge of my desk and shoot the shit. He would eat lunch with me and review the casting packages from various agencies. He took my script notes seriously, and he had hired a new assistant named Cheyenne and was inviting her into meetings to take notes instead of me. I was now seated at the table instead of standing in the back. He said nothing about it, but Ken was starting to feel more like a mentor than a boss.

We had been searching for our leading man, holding general meetings with actors for months, when an agent named Rhonda Milk gave us her agency’s pitch package. Ken tossed it on my desk, saying, “I’m meeting with one of the actors from Driven in five minutes, Ellie. I’d like to know your thoughts. Cheyenne’s going to read with him.”

I followed Ken into his office, and when Ben walked in, I almost fell over. We smiled at each other, my eyes bugging out of my head, shocked to see him, but we kept things professional.

“Ben Winters. Thanks for coming in.” Ken stretched out his hand to shake Ben’s.

I watched Ben work in awe, and when his audition finished, he asked me to walk him out.

“Holy crap,” I whispered as we moved through the echoey hallways. “I can’t believe I’m looking at you.”

“I know. You look good. Are you good?” Ben was still so devastatingly handsome, towering over my coworkers in the office. His eyes seemed even greener and darker, his hair was longer, waving along the top and sides of his head, and his beard was thicker.

I smiled. “I am. Are you?”

“I am.” His eyes darted back and forth between mine.

“It’s been a long time.” My attention fell to my feet.

“Yeah.” Ben held his lips together tightly and looked at his feet, too.

“How long are you in LA?” I opened Marie Street Productions’ heavy black front door to the building’s long hallway, where we passed multiple production offices, editing bays, Black Cross’s writers’ room, a kitchen, accounting, and legal, and guided Ben out the emergency exit to the private staircase that was used only by employees and celebrities.

“I don’t know, am I getting the job?” He smiled as we descended the outdoor metal stairway to the ground level and designated private parking.

“No-brainer, in my opinion, but sadly it’s not my call.”

“Maybe you can put in a good word.”

“I think I can probably swing that.”

“So, what’s been going on? How’s life?” Ben flicked my hand with his own, trying to gauge our comfort level. Even before Ben and I were together, when we were just friends, our touch was how we showed each other how we felt. With only half a second of contact, even after years apart, it all felt so familiar.

I flicked him back. “I’m still living with Zoë. We’re in Highland Park now, on the east side. And Rory and I are together.” I held my breath, waiting for Ben’s reaction.

“You are?” Ben said, sounding surprised. He exhaled through his nose as he crossed his arms. “He’s doing well for himself. It seems like I can’t watch any sports without seeing his face in some commercial. I mean, Rory Campbell.” Ben chuckled. “Get that guy off my TV.”

“Funny, he says the same thing about you.” I leveled my gaze at him.

“But you live with Zoë?”

“Yeah. He’s still in Vancouver. For now.”

“Got it.”

Long distance had been a path Ben and I tried and failed. I couldn’t survive LA while still clinging to New York. But with Rory, I had chosen the path I didn’t ultimately choose for Ben, and he didn’t ultimately choose for me.

“Well, from everything I remember, Rory’s a good guy. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, Ben. What about you?”

“Ah, I’m with someone pretty great. Her name is Emma.” Ben pulled out his phone to show me his lock screen. He had his arm around a woman who was drop-dead gorgeous. They were both wearing bathing suits on vacation and making playful faces for the camera.

“Well, it’s too bad she looks like that, but I’m assuming her personality shines,” I said sarcastically, and Ben laughed.

“Ellie!” A voice boomed from the other side of the parking lot, next to the building’s main visitor’s entrance. It was Craig Sinicki. “Hold up. I’ll come to you.”

“Give me a minute, Craig,” I called back, but he kept walking toward us. I rolled my eyes.