After the Internship: A Novella (The Intern #4) (7 page)

“
God, I’m sorry. I...didn’t mean to take it out on you.” His voice is weak, defeated. “I’m just so over this bullshit. It’s been days and still the press and media are all over this damn Hannah story, and now they’ll be all over it with you. I just…I don’t want to lose you over this, and you know that’s my biggest fear. The media is good at pulling people apart. And with Hannah’s interview and your pictures, they’ll really make up some bullshit story.”

I sniff back the tears. I love strong, determined Bentley, but I fall in love with him even more when he
’s vulnerable Bentley. It reminds us that throughout everything—his career and how we met—that we’re still just two people who want to maintain a normal, healthy relationship.

“
We’re going to get through this,” I tell him. “We can’t let the press get in between us. We need to stay strong and lean on one another. We can’t turn on each other.”

I hear him exhale deeply.
“You’re right. I just...hate this. Being in different states makes them think it’s true. I hate letting anything get in between us, and I fucking hate the fact that they think you’re with that guy.”

“
He’s just a friend,” I remind him calmly.

“
Friend or not, he looks at you like he wants more. It was quite obvious to me and the person who snapped the pic.”

“
Well, it’s not my fault he looks at me like that. I don’t give him any advances to think we’re more. When I hung out at the bookstore, it was strictly friend-zone. I mean, there was nothing electric between us.”

“
Wait.” He pauses. “What bookstore?”

“
Across the street from the coffee house,” I clarify.

“
You’re going to have to fill me in.” His voice is rough, demanding.

Shit, I was sure I told him about this.

“Jason was watching his friend’s store for a couple weeks while he was on vacation or something. While you were gone that first week, I went and kept him company. We just hung out while I looked through books.”

He
’s silent for a split second before rushing out, “Are you fucking kidding me? You...you spent
days
with this guy? You hung out with him while your fiancé was out of the country? Do you know how wrong that fucking sounds?”

My heart begins racing again.
“What the hell are you talking about? I can’t go to a bookstore now? How many times do I have to tell you...HE’S JUST A FRIEND!” I wave my hand in the air to emphasize it although he can’t see it. I continue ranting, “We haven’t hooked up since I was seventeen years old, and oh, yeah...I’m engaged now,” I mock, upset that we’re
still
arguing about this.

“
Well, you could’ve fooled me.” He deadpans. Before I can respond, the phone goes dead. I pull the phone away from my ear. He hung up on me.

When it rains, it
fucking pours.

“
AH!” I scream out in frustration, not knowing what else to do. One minute we’re fine and the next...it fucking goes to hell.

My
cell interrupts, beeping with a message.

Jason
: Shit, Cecilia. I’m so sorry. I just saw. Anything I can do to help?

I sigh to myself. Jason has only been kind to me and it
’s the last thing he deserves to be in the middle of.

Me
: Not unless you have a time machine?

If it can go wrong, it will go wrong.

Murphy’s Law.

Chapter Ten

Bentley

DEALING WITH THE
bullshit of the press is becoming too much. I’d always been able to handle them. I’d ignore their absurd comments and move on, but now it was different. Now it was affecting Ceci and I, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.

I decide to seek Hannah out. She
’s living in Hollywood right now with about five roommates. Angie contacted her agent and told her she’s been struggling to get auditions. I wasn’t about to let her damage my name to get ahead and get away with it.

Angie told me to let it go—for now—but I brushed her off anyway. I was going to handle this my way.

It wasn’t hard to find out her address, especially when you know the right people. She lives in a crappy part of the city, but I drive there anyway. Unsure if she’ll be home, I’m determined to find her somehow.

I stand outside my rental car in front of her apartment complex
—if you can even call it that. The siding is falling off, the front covered in weeds, and the metal mailbox is smashed to the ground.

I hesitantly walk up to the front door and hit the buzzer. I already know which apartment number she is, but I buzz anyway.

Before anyone can buzz me in, the door opens. “Oh, hey, man. Buzzer is broken. Just walk in.”

I nod my thanks, not surprised to hear that too is busted.

I walk up the steps to apartment number nine and knock. I look completely out of place in my three-piece suit and designer shoes. I wanted her to see the Bentley she last knew.

The door flies open and smoke immediately blows out into my face.
“Yeah?” A girl asks. I take notice of her messy appearance. She’s sickly petite, her hair a nest on top of her head and her eyes are bloodshot.

“
Um, yeah, is Hannah here?” I ask, disbelief running through my mind as I get a full look into Hannah’s new lifestyle. She opens the door wider for me, allowing me to step in.

“
She’s in the room down the hall,” is all she says, walking out and disappearing into the hallway.

“
Thanks,” I mumble. I immediately look around and can’t believe more than one person even lives here. It’s a complete disaster—garbage and cat shit littering the carpet.

“
Hannah?” I call out, not exactly sure which room I’m looking for. “Are you back there?” I hear movement in the next room and slowly push the door open. “Hello?”

Nothing in my time
of knowing Hannah could’ve prepared me for what I was seeing. That wasn’t Hannah. There’s no way. Hannah was a well-put together woman with a highly-competitive journalist position. The story she wrote about the Leighton’s skyrocketed her career to the top. This woman lying on the bed in front of me couldn’t be her.

She was mere skin and bones, her long hair now short and
ratted. Her arms were scrawny and filled with bruises.

“
Jesus Christ,” I mutter as I walk toward her. “Hannah?”

She slowly
raises, her eyes only half open, as she looks me up and down. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the infamous perfection of a man, Bentley Leighton. Long time no see.” She smirks, sitting all the way up now.

“
Shit, Hannah.” I brush both hands through my hair in complete disbelief that this is actually her. “Are you all right?”

She scowls at me.
“Don’t come waltzing into my apartment, into
my life
and mother me. I’m just fine.” She parades to what is acting as a table and grabs a cigarette. As she lights it, I get a better look at her. She’s a fucking junkie.

“
Screw you, Hannah. You might’ve ruined your career and life all on your own, but you didn’t have to take mine down with you. Considering you were the one that fucked
me
over.”

“
Oh, Bentley. Are you still upset over that?” She wraps her lips around the end, inhaling and holding it in briefly before exhaling. “I should be the one upset, after all. Once your mother clawed her teeth into my career, what did I have left?”

“
Don’t you dare blame this on my family. You brought that all on yourself.” I stand up, ready for a fight, but there’s no use. She’s pathetic.

“
So what do you want anyway?” she asks, as she leans down to snort a line of what I presume is cocaine.

“
Don’t be doing that shit around me,” I growl, grabbing her arm and pushing her away from the table.

“
Let go of me,” she hisses. I release her immediately, regretting this whole thing.

“
You’re a fucking bitch, you know that? You deserve everything that happened to you after you pulled that shit on me.” She sits on the bed, her back facing me. I can tell she wants to speak, but she doesn’t, so I just continue. “I’ll help you, Hannah,” I say softly. “You retract your interview, and I’ll get you into rehab. I’ll pay for it.”

Hannah doesn
’t deserve my help, but I can’t just walk away knowing she’s slowly killing herself. She was better than that at one point. She was a shark and to see her defeated is just sad.

She turns around slowly, her expression filled with amusement.
“You think I need your help, Leighton?” She laughs coldly, taking a hit of her cigarette. “That’s rich.”

“
Fine…have it your way. I’ll make sure your junkie ass never sees the inside of a studio. Have a nice life.” I walk out of the bedroom, rage and regret consuming me almost immediately. Fuck. I fight with myself before I even get to the front door.

“
Bentley, wait!” she calls out after me. I turn around and see her weak body rushing toward me. “Wait, just a fucking second.” She begins panting as if walking ten feet is too much for her.

I sigh, annoyed that it
’s come to this. “What?”

“
I’ll do it. I’ll do it, okay?”

“
What’s it gonna cost?” I ask expressionless.

She shakes her head.
“No, nothing.”

I stand silent
. I’m stunned that she’s agreed to what I’d asked. “Come on,” I plead. “Let me get you some help. You’re a damn mess, Hannah.”

She
’s hesitant at first but then slowly nods her head. “All right.”

*   *   *

I fly back home the following day, wanting to get back to Ceci and some kind of
normal
.

I
’m sitting back in my office chair when I hear Ceci walking in. “My interview is the same day you fly out.” She looks defeated and worn out.

I fly out in a few days for another shoot—hopefully
, one of my last ones for a while.

“
Do you want me to reschedule my flight?” I’ve been attached to my desk for the past two days. Between emails and phone calls, I’m still dealing with the press as well as keeping in contact with Hannah’s rehab clinic.

“
No, of course not. I was going to ask if you wanted me to reschedule my interview so I could come with you to the airport.” Her voice is soft, weak. She slowly walks closer, her hands crossed in the front.

Ceci
’s been busy preparing for her interview so we haven’t talked much. Ever since the pictures of her and Jason went live, it’s been one of those things we’re trying to get through. They fueled the fire that Hannah’s interview already set off.

“No, I’ll only be gone a few days this time. I told Angie I wanted to fly in, do the interview and shoot, and get back home.”

She nods, fidgeting with her fingers that are placed in front of her.

I push myself off the chair and walk toward her. She angles herself so we’re facing each other, chest to chest.

I press a hand to her cheek
, her face leaning in as her eyes close on contact. “I’ll miss you,” I say softly. Her lips curl up into a small smile.

“
I’ll miss you, too.” Her eyes open. “I have a catering appointment with your mother…so I will
really
miss you.”

I smirk, removing my hand and leaning in to graze her lips lightly.
“I’m so bummed I’ll be missing that.”

She scowls playfully.
“I bet.”

“
We’ll figure this out, okay? I know it hasn’t been easy on you.” I watch as her eyes stay locked on mine. “I trust you,” I clarify. I want her to know that I do wholeheartedly. I’ve had Ceci to myself for a long time while we traveled, and we always stayed low in Omaha. Now things are spiraling out of control and rumors are being spread that it’s making me feel so out of control—something I definitely don’t accept willingly.

“
You have nothing to worry about,” she says sincerely. “I mean, it’s only like twenty or so college guys stretching in really tight uniforms. No biggie.” She shrugs, knowing damn well that definitely doesn’t make me feel any better.

I play her game, knowing she
’ll be just as uncomfortable as I am. “All right. Good to know. I’m only shooting with four other girls in bikinis. I’m glad we can be mature adults and comfortable with being around hot people.”

“
I never said hot!” she mocks, pushing me playfully in the chest. “Not to mention, half-naked!” I step back, pretending she actually has enough power to push me backward. I laugh as her face heats up, obviously on to my little game.

“
What?” I ask jokingly. “You aren’t insecure, are you?”

She pushes me again, scowling.
“You don’t play fair.” She tries to hide the smile that’s forming.

I wrap my arms around her, bending at the waist as she tries and gets out.
“Sweetheart, you know you’re the only girl I ever look at,” I say sincerely. She stops fighting me and finally looks me in the eyes. “You’re the most beautiful person I know—inside and out. You have nothing to worry about.”

She bites her lip, taking in every word I
’m telling her. She should know this by now anyway, but I know it isn’t easy seeing each other around other men and women.

“
I hope
they
know that.” She grins, throwing my words back at me.

“
They know, don’t worry.” I kiss her lips, slow and soft. “
I
know…and that’s all that matters anyway.”

“
Does this mean you won’t be following me around if I get this job to make sure guys don’t hit on me?”

“
Of course not,” I say seriously. “I’d hire someone for that. I couldn’t possibly do that all day and work.”

“
You’re such an ass.” She laughs. “Okay, but for real.” Her face turns serious, both of us standing straight up now. “We need to trust each other fully. We can’t let the media get to us and tear us apart. It’s ruining us and I hate it.”

I stroke her cheek, slowly brushing her hair back behind her ear.
“You’re absolutely right. We can’t pay them any attention. We’re happily engaged and that’s all that matters.”

“
Good to hear, Mr. Leighton. We’ll prove to them how wrong they all are.” She wraps her arms around my waist, tilting her head all the way up to lock eyes with me.

I wrap my arms around her.
“Sounds perfect to me.”

*   *   *

Half way through my flight, Ceci emails me and tells me she was offered the position right on the spot. I could sense her giddiness so I respond with how proud I am of her. I know she was really excited about the position. She spent hours doing research about the campus and learning about their baseball team. She was always good at making sure to cross her T’s and dot her I’s.

Luckily,
I would only be gone for three days, but most of it will be spent adjusting to the time difference and being told where to stand and what to wear.

It sucks being away from Ceci, but it makes it easier during shooting knowing she isn
’t bored or uncomfortable watching me pose with the other models.

This shoot is for a swimsuit company that wants couple and group shots. Unfortunately, it
’s freezing cold out and we have to shoot outside for the summer issue.

By the end of the day, I
’m exhausted and frozen, happy to be flying out the next morning. Ceci and I email a couple more times before I pass out for the night, preparing for a long flight home.

It
’s when I’m sitting in first class during the sixth hour that it hits me. Is this career really worth it if it’s constantly tearing us apart? Is a career that sends me thousands of miles away really worth jeopardizing everything I fought so hard for?

I
’m not so sure anymore.