10.
ELLIE
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Aaron asked as we stood in the lobby of a high-end apartment building. "There's no pressure."
I had no idea what the best way to handle all this was, but that's why I'd asked Aaron to speak to his agent. He was the professional, he would know, and he'd recommended that we get out there and talk to a journalist before Mindy could.
We wanted to be ahead of the game.
"I'm positive."
I wasn't positive, and the thought of seeing my face on the front page of a tabloid made me feel a little ill inside, but it was inevitable anyway. When the movie aired I'd be in the spotlight; at least this was for a good cause.
When it was out there, Aaron and I wouldn't have to worry anymore. We wouldn't be reluctant to go and eat in a restaurant because the papers might say something about us; we wouldn't be walking down streets a good distance apart in case some journalist was following us with a camera.
We'd put it out there, and if we were lucky, it would be old news soon enough.
We were both worried that there'd be some commenters who were unimpressed with the age gap between us, but Aaron's agent had assured us that it wouldn't be much of a problem. Famous men married younger women all the time; there was always a little bit of commentary, but it was nothing new, and nothing highly controversial.
It was the lies Mindy came up with that Aaron had to worry about, and that was what most of this interview today was going to be focused on. His failed marriage.
The elevator doors opened, and a man I didn't recognize came out. Aaron obviously did, though; he stepped forward and shook his hand, the smile on his face obviously forced. "Hi, Mark," he said. "Thanks for doing this on such short notice."
Aaron was even less enthusiastic than me about talking to a journalist: it was his marriage, and he'd always wanted it to be something that stayed personal. I felt bad that I'd not only forced it into the public eye, but that I was the one pushing him to take his agent's advice because I was scared our relationship would go south if he didn't.
I was being selfish, but I convinced myself I was doing what was best for his career, too.
"Not a problem at all," Mark said. "And this must be Ellie. It's a pleasure to meet you."
We shook hands, too, and I tried to swallow my nerves.
I had no idea how an interview like this went, really. I'd avoided journalists and interviews the entire time I'd been filming, and while I knew this wasn't going to be a grilling, I still wasn't looking forward to it.
We were doing the interview at his apartment: Aaron hadn't wanted to go into the office, and he hadn't liked the idea of Mark seeing the inside of his house, either. This was a solution Mark hadn't seemed reluctant to agree to. He probably did this sort of thing all the time.
In the apartment, I declined Mark’s offer for a drink and sat with my hands in my lap, wondering how long this was going to take. It was only yesterday it had even become a possibility, and we hadn't really ironed out any kinks in what we wanted to tell Mark.
Aaron did almost all the talking, though.
He explained how everything had all begun in a far more romantic way than "we just really wanted to fuck," and how we'd tried to stay apart to maintain professionalism, but hadn't been able to. He said he'd spoken to Dennis and been told he didn't mind having it on-set as long as filming wasn't affected. He said how happy we were, and we just wanted to be the ones to come out and say it instead of living with the speculation of the press hanging over our shoulders.
Then he went on to talk about his marriage, about his divorce, and about what a bitter bitch Mindy was being, in a slightly more subtle way than that. He explained the blackmailing, and said he just didn't want there to be any more lies about him in the press.
It was like I wasn't even there, really. I sat with my fingers laced through Aaron's and listened to what he was saying while my eyes roamed over the disappointingly bare apartment. There was no artwork, no fancy wallpaper. It was all quite sterile.
I wondered if it was even his home, or just a place he called his apartment for clients like Aaron who didn't want to meet in an office.
He must be on some serious money if he could afford this place as a second home.
And then it was over, we were all shaking hands again and seeing ourselves out as we rode back down in the elevator.
"How do you think it went?" I asked Aaron, whose back wasn't as stiff, and who didn't look like he was ready to punch the next person who spoke to him anymore.
"I think it went really well," he said as we walked out of the apartment building, our hands still laced together. "Thank you for making me do that. It was the right thing to do."
My eyebrows pulled together. "You're sure?"
We were on the sidewalk, in broad daylight, when he cupped my face and kissed me. "Now I can do that whenever I want, and I don't have to give a shit what anyone thinks. I shouldn't have given a shit in the first place. I love you, Ellie."
My cheeks flamed red, and I barely squelched the urge to jump up and wrap my legs around him. "I love you too," I said instead, maintaining some composure as I brought his face back down and kissed him again.
"Now let’s go home and fuck on the balcony, where I don't care if anyone sees us anymore."