Chapter 15
BENNETT
The car service pulled under the hotel awning just after Noon. New York was a hell of a lot louder than LA, and I didn’t think I could ever get used to the smell.
Collette got out first, already on her phone with the producer of the late-night talk show Laina was going to appear on tonight. I stepped onto the curb and waited until my wife followed, then grabbed our bags from the driver.
Collette took care of checking us in and handed our keys to Laina, who asked, “One room?”
“It’s a suite with two bedrooms, a shared living area, and a fantastic view of the city.
Courtesy of the morning show you’re going to tomorrow.
” Colette showed her the other key card envelope.
“Unless one of you wants to switch with me? I took the king room on a lower floor that tonight’s show provided. ”
“I’m good with staying wherever Laina wants me.”
My publicist flashed me an approving smile at my answer, while Laina tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. I really would’ve understood if she didn’t want to stay in the suite with me, but I was happy when she finally answered, “No, we can keep things how they are.”
As we rode the elevator up, Collette confirmed the call times for today and tomorrow, and left us with a reminder that she was three floors down if anything came up. We didn’t say anything else until we were settled in the suite with our bags in opposite rooms.
Laina stood near the window with her arms loosely crossed, looking out at the skyline. As I returned to the living room, she turned toward me. “I still can’t believe you came. It’s season premiere week.”
My team had been just as shocked when I announced I was missing a few days to accompany Laina to New York.
But Jordan would maintain the production grind to ensure we didn’t fall behind on filming, and the network execs had signed off on me being gone because they hoped her interviews would bring us even more viewership for the premiere.
Even if none of that had fallen into place, I still would have come. “I didn’t want you doing this alone.”
“Collette’s here,” she reminded me.
“She’s great, but it’s not the same.” I crossed the room to look out the same window. “And you made the same trip for me last year.”
Except my invitation had only come after pressure by the network’s PR machine. When we hit season four, they’d poured more money into promotion to ensure we’d hit the 100-episode mark this year.
“That was such a fun trip.”
Only because she’d been with me. “Would you like to go to Balthazar for dinner again? Or grab some slices from Joe’s?”
Her stomach growled at the mention of pizza, and she giggled. It was a sound I hadn’t heard in almost three weeks, and I missed it so damn much.
“We have a couple of hours before we need to head to the studio, so how about I order a few slices to tide you over until after the interview?”
“Yes, please,” she answered almost shyly. “I’d really appreciate it.”
“Whatever you need, baby. That’s why I’m here.”
And I meant it.
The pizza arrived thirty minutes later, and I considered it a major victory when Laina sat cross-legged on the couch in the living area and ate two slices while scrolling through the questions Collette had forwarded. I stayed in the chair across from her, enjoying my own slices.
After she finished the last bite of crust, she looked up and murmured, “They’re going to ask me about you, our marriage, and how all of this has impacted the show.”
“You can share as much or as little about that as you want.” I set my slice down. “I’m not here to try to control the narrative. Tell your truth and let the chips fall wherever they may.”
This time, my answer earned me a soft smile that almost had me punching my fist in the air.
“Then I guess we’ll see how much I feel like sharing when the questions are asked.” She wiped her fingers on a napkin and glanced toward the bedroom she’d claimed. “I need to take a shower before I get changed. I don’t want to smell like airplane when hair and makeup are working on me.”
“Go ahead, baby. I’ll clean this up.”
While she got ready, I stayed in the living area and listened to the quiet sounds on the other side of a closed door.
My only role here was to support Laina, so it didn’t matter what I looked like when we headed to the studio.
And I didn’t want to be distracted, so I didn’t check in with Jordan to see how things were going at the studio.
I just checked the time, texted Collette that we were on schedule, and waited for my wife.
After about an hour, Laina walked out of her room in the outfit she’d chosen for the show, her hair cascading down her back and her face bare of makeup. She looked more beautiful than ever, with an air of quiet resolve that was new. “You look stunning already.”
“Not hardly.”
She might’ve denied it, but I caught the slight upturn of her lips.
Collette met us downstairs, and we walked to the studio since it was only a few blocks away. Once we were inside, Laina was swept off to hair and makeup while Collette and I were pointed toward the green room.
I was still standing near the monitor when a producer crossed the room toward me.
“Bennett Parker. Glad you could make it in with her.” He held his hand out for a quick shake. “Listen, we’re thinking it would be good to bring you out for the last few minutes. Let the audience see you two on the same couch. A healing moment, you know? The ratings would be huge.”
I looked past him to where Laina was visible through the open doorway to the makeup room, her eyes closed while someone brushed something along her cheekbone.
“No.”
The producer blinked. “We can keep it light. Just a couple of questions, show people you’re facing this together—”
“No,” I repeated. “She’s doing this on her own terms. The only way I go out there is if she asks me, and it better not be because you broached the idea to her.”
He dipped his chin. “Understood. We’ll keep the segment focused on her.”
“Appreciate it.”
When I glanced back toward the makeup room, Laina was watching me in the reflection of the mirror. Our eyes met, and something in her expression eased before she looked away again.
I stayed where I was, out of the way, and waited for them to call her name.
When a production assistant came to the green room to take Laina backstage, he turned to me before leaving. “Mr. Parker, we can seat you in the front row if you’d like.”
“No thank you.”
“There’s a monitor setup backstage if you prefer to watch from there,” he offered.
I shook my head. “I’ll stay here.”
He blinked. “Really? Most people want to be closer to the action.”
“I don’t want to be a distraction.”
“Are you sure?” Laina asked.
I reached for her hand and gave it a little squeeze. It was the first time she’d let me touch her since the awards night. “If you want me close, I’ll do the front row or backstage. Otherwise, I really am good here.”
“Okay then.” She turned toward the production assistant. “I’m ready to go.”
Collette gave me an approving nod. “I’ll take care of her.”
The publicist followed them backstage and would watch from the monitors the production assistant mentioned.
I remained in the green room with the door open enough to hear the distant warm-up of the audience and the low bustle of the crew.
I was close enough to be there for my wife when she needed me but far enough that the only person the cameras and the crowd would focus on was Laina.
I heard the applause swell as the host brought her out. I stared up at the monitor and watched my wife charm the host, the same way she did everyone who met her.
The first couple of minutes were fairly easy, and Laina answered his questions with the same quiet composure she’d walked into the studio with.
Then the host asked something everyone had been wondering about. “The Wrong Side of Right had four successful seasons before winning Best Comedy Series that night. Did you really not see any of yourself in Sally when you watched the show?”
I closed my eyes and waited for Laina’s answer, completely willing to pay the price for her honesty if it brought her any measure of relief. But her reply didn’t go as I expected.
“I’m sure this is going to sound impossible, but I’ve actually never watched the show.”
“Never?” the host echoed. “Not even after what your husband announced to the world in his acceptance speech?”
At the familiar sound of her soft laugh, I opened my eyes and looked up. She was angled toward the host, with a genuine smile making the dimples in her cheek pop. “Especially not then.”
“You weren’t curious to see how much of yourself you’d see in Sally?”
Laina shook her head. “From what Bennett has told me and the rest of the world in his statement last week, any similarities Sally has to me are very much exaggerated. So I doubt I’d recognize any of myself in her.”
Her answer was perfect. And most likely true.
Even more importantly, it gave me hope for our marriage.
The host asked about the online fallout.
What it felt like to see her private life turned into online content for likes.
Whether the public statement had helped.
Laina answered some questions fully and redirected others without apology.
She never once looked toward the wings or the cameras like she needed rescuing.
I listened to every word, riveted by her on that stage. And so was the audience.
The applause that followed the host thanking her for coming tonight was even warmer than her entrance had been.