Her phone rang just as she got off the phone with Florence. Her brother. Oh no. “Hi, what’s wrong?” she said into the phone, her heart beating fast. “Nothing’s wrong, Anna!” Chris said. “I can’t just call my big sister without a crisis?” She flopped back against her cozy office chair. “Okay, but you don’t ever call your big sister without a crisis, so . . .” Chris laughed out loud. “That’s not . . . completely true. But obviously now I have to call you more so you don’t sound panicked every time I do. Anyway, it’s not a crisis; everyone is fine. I just had a quick question, and I figured calling was faster than texting.” That sounded like bullshit, but okay. “What is it?” “Well, two questions, actually. The first I emailed you already, but I know things can get lost in that inbox of yours, so look out for it and let me know if you have any questions.” This must be a request for money for one of his pet projects; she would give some, of course, they both knew that. Chris was involved in a bunch of charities, which she kept hoping would get her dad off her back, but it hadn’t. “But as for the second . . . Okay, full disclosure, Mom asked me about this and wants me to get info from you, but I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.” He was taking awhile to work up to this, which was rare for Chris. “What is it?” “Well. Mom saw those pictures from last week, and then again in People today, and she showed them to me, and . . . what’s going on with you and this guy?” Anna had to laugh. “Chris, I told you guys what was going on when we had lunch at Mom and Dad’s, you know this is all fake.” “Yes, you told us that, but . . .” “But what? Didn’t I tell all of you, a long time ago, that I’d tell you anything that mattered in my personal life before it hit the press?” The few actual relationships she’d had in Hollywood, she’d told her family about well before they were public, for this exact reason—she didn’t want them to read gossip about her and think they were finding out along with the rest of the world. “I know, I know, but . . . what Mom said to me—and I agreed, after I looked at those pictures—was that you looked different in them. Happier, I guess. And she liked the way that guy looked at you. So she thought maybe there was something else happening.” Hoped, Anna was pretty sure he meant. She loved her mom very much, but she desperately wanted Anna to be partnered and settled down, a thing that was not in Anna’s plans for at least a few more years. “I am happier, happier than I have been in a while, but it’s not because of Ben—it’s because I’m feeling better and taking care of myself and working, but not too hard, all of those things Mom and Dad want me to do.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe she called you and made you look at pictures of me in People magazine.” Her mom didn’t even used to read People magazine. “It wasn’t that bad—I stopped by the house to drop off some books for her school. And then she made me look at pictures of you in People magazine.” They both laughed. After she got off the phone, Anna thought about what she’d said to Chris. It wasn’t exactly true, that her happiness had nothing to do with Ben, but not in the way her family thought. It had nothing to do with Ben himself. Ben was great, absolutely, she always had fun with him; the sex was truly excellent. But this “relationship” with Ben was the first time since her crisis where she felt like she was taking control of her life, that she was in charge of her career, that she wasn’t sitting back and letting things happen to her because she was too anxious or exhausted or overwhelmed to make decisions. It felt fantastic. * * * — Thursday, Ben texted Anna on the way to work.