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“And they want to push up the release date of my book.”
“Did you agree to it?”
“No. I didn’t commit to anything, like you said. I told them I’d let them know.”
“Nicely done. See? I knew you could handle it.”
He gives my hands a reassuring squeeze and then strides to the kitchen sink, where he starts washing the breakfast dishes.
“That’s not all,” I say, speaking loudly over the running water and clattering of plates.
“Yeah?” Ben asks as he pulls on a pair of yellow rubber dishwashing gloves. If I wasn’t so stupefied by the meeting I’d just had, I’d be more amused by the sight of Mr. Rock Star—shirtless, naturally—with dish gloves on.
“They want me to do an interview.” I pause and take a deep breath before going on. I have to say the words again myself to believe that they’re true. “They want me to do an interview withMaisie.”
“Woah!” Benjamin exclaims, turning off the sink suddenly and turning to face me, his face bright with excitement. “They got you a slot with Maisie? Lace, that’s huge!”
He walks over to me and gives a big hug, wet dish gloves and all, lifting me clear off the ground, before leaning down and planting a kiss on my lips, long and hard. I can feel the thudding of his heartbeat in his chest as he squeezes me tight, and my stomach flip-flops at the intimacy of the sensation—feeling his heart, bare-chested, beating.
“This is great news!” He says, setting me down, his face alight with excitement. “Maisie canmakeyour career.”
“Orbreakit,” I retort helplessly. “Remember when Bambi Stokes dropped her new album? And Maisie hated it? She was done. It literally ended her career.”
“I mean, as it should have. Bambi Stokes has zero talent.”
“That’s not the point!” I wail, throwing my hands up. “What if Maisie hates me? Or my poems? What if she destroys me live on the air?”
“Hey, hey, deep breaths. Maisie isn’t some evil super villain, you know,” Ben says. He stoops down so we’re eye-to-eye. “Yes, she’s a cultural critic. Yes, she’s got clout. But look, everybody loved your verses yesterday. And my guess is she did too.”
“She wants to talk to me about the inspiration for the verses,” I say with a note of despair in my voice.
“So? She’s savvy. She’s going to get the scoop. And you’re going to get amazing publicity. If you do this interview, millions of people will know your name by the end of it.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I say. My stomach is churning with nerves.
“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Ben walks over to me, peeling off the dish gloves and dropping them on the counter. “You can do this. I know it.” He brings his hands to my shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. I feel warmth wash over my body at his firm grasp.Those muscular hands…
I look into Ben’s dark eyes, full of reassurance. My palms are sweaty and cold with nerves, but my hands feel warm and protected in his strong grip.Maybe, with Ben by my side, I can do this, I think to myself.
“Will you help me?” I ask lamely, feeling like the biggest dork for asking—but not knowing who else to turn to. Benknowsthis stuff. He’s been in the spotlight for years. He’s talked to Maisie plenty of times. I have no doubt he knows how to win her over.
In response, he leans forward and gives me a gentle kiss. He runs his hands through my hair, caressing and comforting me at once, before pulling back slightly, so his mouth is right by my ear.
“You can count on me, Lace,” he says, his voice a low whisper, his breath tickling my ear.
He stands back upright, looking down at me, his eyes soft and reassuring.
“Promise?” I ask, peering up at him, searching his face for some kind of guarantee.
“Of course. That was our deal, right? You help me with songs, and I help you with media. It’s time for me to fulfill my end of the bargain,” he replies. “I’m supposed to go to LA this coming weekend for an interview. James is going to wring my neck if I don’t come out of hiding soon and do a little pre-album-drop publicity.”
My heart drops at this news. Just when I could really use Ben’s help, he’s peacing out?
“You could come with me and tag along for the interview, behind the scenes. See how it all works.”
I feel relief wash over me. He’s not ditching me.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
