Chapter 2

Then:

Her first Bond movie had hit theaters last week and with it, a sudden upsurge of attention. Fans came up to her for photos and autographs, mouths loose with compliments, and Rey loved it. Her new character was a hit and she was in negotiations to reprise her role in another Bond movie.

Life was perfect.

It was warm that night. A quick welcome of summer, her first in Los Angeles. So Rey decided to walk down the street to grab coffee, jet lag be damned.

It was on her way back that she realized the same man she'd seen inside the cafe was behind her. A coincidence, she thought. Maybe he lived within walking distance. But when he turned another corner with her, she rushed into the closest building-a boutique-and watched him enter it as well.

He was definitely following her.

Her friends had warned her about moving to Los Angeles and there she was, already in danger on her very first day.

When she strode up to the cashier and whispered what was happening, the young girl behind the counter looked between Rey and the man. "Are you sure? It looks like he's buying a present for someone."

Rey stared at the girl. Then at the man. He was getting closer, stealing looks in her direction.

It was her agent she called. Phasma hadn't been pleased, to say the least.

"Didn't you just land from London?" she yelled into the phone. "What are you doing walking around? I was going to explain all of this tomorrow morning. You can't just walk around at night in the states when you're a star. Just send me your location and I'll send you someone. Ben should be there within ten minutes. Remember these three little words, Rey, because only trust the person who says them to you, okay?"

And when he arrived, he went straight to Rey and closed his eyes like he was in pain. With a great heaving sigh, he said, "Call me daddy."

Now:

Phasma chastised her about their coffee run as soon as they returned. They only had an unreasonable eight hours to prepare for tonight and already, they were behind.

Rey ignored her.

"I'll secure the perimeters," interrupted Ben. "While we are at the awards show, I've instructed Mitaka to install a more effective security system on the premises. You should be able to rest more easily."

Those eight hours passed quickly. Her transformation should have felt like rebirth-here I am, as untouchable and beautiful as I always was. Her shoulder length hair cascaded in old Hollywood curls. Terracotta lipstick and a thick, sharp eyeliner. Precise simplicity to showcase the magnitude of her gown. But her reflection carried a confidence she herself didn't feel.

"Really, Rey?" screeched Phasma, staring accusingly at the glass of liquor in Rey's hand.

She sipped it again. "What? It's going to calm my nerves and I should be the perfect little puppet for you, don't worry."

Exasperated, Phasma threw her hands in the air and stormed off to greet the limo.

"Are you ready?" It was Ben, who now stood frozen in the living room, staring at her. She felt the heat of his gaze from head to toe.

Rey downed the last of her drink and put it down on her coffee table. She smoothed out the skirt of her gown. "Nope! But I sold my soul to the devil, so I have no choice. Let's go."

The whiskey went straight to her head the moment the nighttime air washed over her skin. A little unsteady, she took small steps down her driveway to the limo. Surprisingly, there were no paparazzi, so Ben helped her down the remaining steps and into the back of the limo.

"Ooooh! Minibar!" Rey leapt forward, yanking open the small fridge. "Want do you want, Solo? I'll stick to my good old friend Jack, but if you'd rather Patron, that's-"

"Rey." He grabbed her wrist before she twisted off the bottle's cap. "What the fuck?"

She yanked her wrist out of his grasp and set the bottle down on the seat. "Don't judge me, Ben. You haven't been there to see all the shit that's hit the fan. I need this."

"At least wait until the venue to order a drink. Don't let them see you stumble on the red carpet. Rey, I'm sorry for your pain but don't sacrifice your career over some guy."

She knew he was right. This was a bad idea. And this was Ben, not some stranger telling her what to do. If anyone was an objective witness to her miserable state, it was him.

"Fine," she said with a small huff. "A jack and coke would be more satisfying in a glass, I suppose."

He stared out the window, contemplative.

"What? Am I a disappointment to you or something?"

It was then that he looked at her. "No. Never that. I only wish. . . . We had been good friends. I only wish I had been there, in some way, to help you."

Rey nodded, blink, blink, blinked away any tears that could form. Maker, she was tired of crying all the goddamn time. "You're here now. I wouldn't want anyone else with me tonight but you."

Rey returned his small smile and she reached out for his hand, feeling it warm and big and so familiar. Everything about him felt like home.

Then:

She was young. Freshly twenty-one and alone in a whole new city.

A string of indie movies so quirky she cringed at the mention of manic pixie dream girl. But a job was a job, and her next one had apparently catapulted her into a new spectrum of fame. Yet she was twenty-one and a man was a man, and Ben Solo was a very attractive man.

He drove her home after circling a few random blocks, preventing anyone from discovering her address. At her destination, he parked the car and opened her door so swiftly she never would have expected a man so big to be so swift and graceful.

"Thank you," she told him, sincere to her very core. "I didn't know what to do. It's. . . . I've never dealt with anything like this."

He accompanied her down the driveway to her front door, eyes scanning the area. "You were smart to call right away. Most people don't and it's too late, all because they felt rude. Here's my card."

"Ben Solo," she read slowly, savoring the feel of his fingers on hers. The name tasted like a sigh of relief. "Are you going to be my first ever bodyguard?"

By now, it was dead silent in the neighborhood. Hours past a reasonable bedtime. The only light around them was a single, half-burnt lightbulb above them on her porch.

He shrugged, running a hand through his messy hair. "You may request service through the company or you could specify the agent that you want. I'm available all days of the week. Day or night."

"Rain or shine?"

He laughed. "Exactly."

"Doesn't your girlfriend get mad, you know, that your schedule is so unpredictable?" she asked, tone innocent.

With an equally innocent shrug, he looked down the empty street. "That's partly why she left me, I guess. Maybe that and the unhealthy obsession with Property Brothers."

Rey giggled and placed a hand on his chest, feeling it seize up. She imagined maybe it was tension coiled behind his chest, the same she felt unravel in her stomach as she looked into his eyes.

He was so handsome. And his mouth looked so soft.

"Have a goodnight, Miss Kenobi," said Ben, dismissing them, though she felt the way his eyes still bore into hers.

"Until next time, daddy," answered Rey, returning his distance and opening the door to her brand new home.

Next time would be close to six months after, when it was too late and she'd already met him.