Totally and Completely Fine(58)

“Naw,” Ben said. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that Fran thinks I should be spending more of my money instead of saving it. She was the one who pushed me to buy Lillian. Said I needed something for myself.”

“Fran is your agent?”

If I was remembering correctly, she was also the woman who he’d gotten the harp tattoo for. Or because of.

“Since the beginning,” Ben said. “Though she keeps trying to fire me.”

“Fire you? Why?”

Ben leaned back against the wall. We were still just standing there in the middle of his apartment.

“She thinks I need better representation,” he said. “Says I’ve outgrown her.”

I was confused—I’d never heard of an agent who wanted to off-load a successful client. Then again, Hollywood in general confused me.

“Have you outgrown her?”

“I don’t want another agent,” Ben said, sounding slightly petulant. “I trust Fran, and that’s more than I can say for most people in this industry. She might not have the clout and connections of other agents, but I know she’d never fuck me over.”

I nodded as if I understood.

I understood loyalty, of course. And trust.

It just seemed out of place in Hollywood.

I wondered if she was the reason he hadn’t gotten the James Bond role.

“How did you meet her?”

“Christmas break,” he said. “I was sixteen.”

I blinked. “Sixteen?”

“The guy I was dating at the time, Danny, knew I hated going back to the islands over the holidays, so he invited me to stay with his family in Dublin. After that, I just ended up spending every break with them. Fran is his mom.”

My eyes shifted over to the photos on the fridge. I couldn’t see them clearly, but I spotted enough of one to recognize it—the one with the woman and the baby. Ben and his mom, I assumed.

I just wasn’t sure why he’d display a picture of someone he wanted to avoid over the holidays.

“And she became your agent,” I said.

“Her clients do print work—advertisements mostly—but she knew I needed to make money. Especially after graduation,” he said. “She’d seen that I could act, school plays and things, so she’d look around for actual roles. I got my first big job because of her—some small movie that was filming in Ballinrobe. It was enough for me to move out of their guest room and to London.”

“I didn’t know,” I said.

“Yeah, well.” Ben lifted a shoulder. “You didn’t ask.”

“What happened after you moved to London?” I asked, shifting on my feet.

Ben gave me a look, and then crossed the room, pulling out a chair for me. I sat, but he continued to stand.

I let out an unintentional moan as I settled into the chair. My toes had been killing me. Allyson was right. Heels were a torture device.

“You can take them off,” Ben said.

There was a twinkle in his eye. He was talking about my shoes, but his gaze drifted down to my dress.

“London?” I prompted, slipping my heels off and trying not to moan again at how it felt. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to get them back on when I had to leave.

Which would be soon.

Soonish.

Ben leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed.

“More job opportunities, but more competition,” he said. “I’d do plays whenever I could, waited tables, busked if I had to.” He scratched his neck. “Spent a lot of time on couches during that time—and Fran called in a lot of favors.”

“Then SXS,” I said.

“An overnight sensation,” he said. “And it only took five years of eating ramen, sleeping on lumpy futons, and landing bit parts to get there.”

Gabe had been called an overnight sensation too.

“I’m sorry about Bond,” I said.

Ben waved a hand. “It would have been nice,” he said. “But I’ve been rejected before.”

He gave me a look.

“Wha—I didn’t—that wasn’t a rejection,” I said, even though that was patently untrue.

It just made me feel bad to think about it that way. It also made me seem insane. Because who rejected a man like Ben? A woman with too many issues to count.

“It wasn’t you. It was me,” I said.

“That’s what they all say.”

“I—”

“It’s okay,” Ben said. “Missing out on Bond was rough. It would have been nice to get that paycheck…But I’ll get over it.”

“What are you saving for?” I asked. “A house?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “It’s more about repaying a debt.”

“To who?”

Ben didn’t say anything, and it was clear we’d reached the end of that topic of conversation. It was the perfect time to excuse myself and limp home.

“What happened to Danny?” I asked. “Isn’t it awkward that you still work with his mom?”

“We’re still friends,” he said. “Went to his wedding last year, in fact. Pablo’s a good guy. Stays in one place. Stable. Reliable. That kind of thing.”