Young Adulting Read online

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Also by Christina Benjamin & Maggie Dallen

  Prologue

  Izzy

  The giant pile of clothes in the middle of my bed appeared to be talking as I sorted through the contents of my closet.

  “I just don’t want you to gooo,” Fallon whined.

  My best friend since kindergarten was sprawled out on the other side of the clothes and her voice was muffled thanks to the pillow she’d thrown over her face in her misery. It would have been sweet if she wasn’t currently giving me a guilt trip for choosing the opportunity of a lifetime over a plan we’d made when we were twelve.

  “I’ll join you at Ohio State in the spring semester,” I said. “Stop being melodramatic.”

  “Me?” She sat up so quickly the pillow fell to the floor and her long brown ponytail swished wildly as she crossed her arms in indignation. “You’re calling me melodramatic? Please. You’re the theater freak around here.”

  “Film major,” I clarified. “And I’ll be studying screenwriting, not acting.” I tossed the balled-up T-shirt I’d been about to fold in her direction and it landed on her face before sliding down onto her lap, making us both grin.

  Fallon might have been driving me nuts ever since I’d told her my decision, but the truth was, I was just as heartbroken as she was that we wouldn’t be rooming together and going through the whole freshman experience side by side. We’d done everything together for as long as I could remember, and not sharing something so huge as college move-in day?

  Yeah. My sentimental heart was breaking over here. But that was all the more reason why her guilt trip was driving me insane.

  As if she could sense my thoughts, Fallon leaned over a stack of sundresses that I prayed would pass for adequate office attire at the internship.

  “You could still change your mind,” Fallon started.

  I cut her off with a groan. “Either help me pack or leave me in peace.”

  “Nice. Real nice,” she muttered. “Your last day at home and you’re threatening to kick me out.” But despite her complaints, Fallon picked up the T-shirt and folded it up into a neat little square, adding it to the pile right behind her. In true Fallon fashion, she picked up the conversation where she saw fit, heedless of whether it was what we’d just been discussing or not. “But you’re not studying screenwriting,” she said. “You’re not studying anything. You’re just flying off to Los Angeles, leaving me to go to college all on my own.”

  I held back a sigh—we’d been over this more times than I could count already. Fallon couldn’t seem to understand that interning for a major Hollywood production company in their script development office would do more for my career than any classroom ever could.

  It’s why I worked my little overachiever butt off in high school, taking enough AP classes to be starting as a junior in the fall. That work ethic is what won me this internship. I believed hard work paid off and it was about time I reaped the rewards.

  I held up a pair of jean shorts that were still up for debate and eyed them critically. I didn’t have much room in my luggage so every piece had to serve a purpose. But then again, I didn’t have much to bring. My summer clothing options were minimal, and my business-attire outfits were...few and far between.

  I mean, I’d just graduated from high school. It wasn’t like my closet was overflowing with pencil skirts and silk blouses.

  Theoretically I could go shopping when I got there but unless they gave clothes away for free in Hollywood, I wasn’t sure how much good that would do me.

  I threw the jean shorts back into the undecided pile.

  They definitely weren’t office friendly and I didn’t expect to have a ton of downtime these next few months—in fact, I fully planned on being such an amazing worker that they’d be forced to offer me a job when the internship came to an end in January.

  But it was California, and there were beaches, and…

  Oh what the heck.

  I moved the shorts over to the to-pack pile.

  “So,” Fallon said, breaking the silence as she reached for my remote and turned on the little TV on my dresser. “Have your parents come around yet?”

  “Eh…” I made a face at her in the mirror and she laughed.

  “Is your mom still wailing that she’s losing her baby to the big bad city?”

  I nodded. “But that’s nothing compared to my dad. He hasn’t stopped crunching numbers since I told them the news.”

  “But you just deferred your acceptance, right?” Fallon asked, a note of fear seeping into her voice. “You’ll join us in the spring and you’ll still have your scholarship and—”

  “Yes, exactly,” I said. And it was my money that I’d saved up from part-time jobs and babysitting that had paid for the airfare and that would be set aside for rent where I’d be staying, but still... “Try explaining that to my parents.”

  She sniffed. Her lips turning down in a frown of disapproval over my parents’ reaction. Which was kind of funny, actually, since she hadn’t exactly been leaping for joy since I’d told her I was putting off college to take an unpaid internship on the other side of the country.

  “Screw it,” she said. “They’ll come around when you’re rich and famous.”

  I met her gaze over the pile of clothes and caught her little smile.

  I grinned, dropping the old, faded swimsuit I’d been holding so I could crawl over the bed and attack my bestie with a bear hug. “Thanks,” I whispered.

  She laughed as she patted my back. “I might hate the fact that you’re leaving me to face the freshman fifteen on my own, but...Izzy…” She leaned back to look at me. “You know I’m proud of you, right? We all are.”

  I couldn’t answer even if I’d wanted to because my throat was too choked with emotion. These past two weeks had been tough. I knew my parents were proud of me but they were terrified of me living on my own in a big city.

  Fallon was just terrified, period.

  And me?

  Yeah, I was totally terrified, too. But not at the thought of living in LA, or even of missing out on my first semester of college with my BFF. No, my biggest fear was that I would get the opportunity of a lifetime...and blow it.

  This was my one chance. The fact that I’d been picked for this internship out of the thousands of applicants...well, that was more than luck.

  It was a miracle.

  And who knew if I’d ever get another? Only an idiot would hold out hope for two miracles in a lifetime so I had to make sure that this one was it—the opportunity that would propel me to the career of my dreams. The life I’d always envisioned. The world that had always seemed like fantasy. The future that—

  “Whoa, hottie alert!” Fallon dropped her arms from around me and was moving me out of her line of sight with a shove.

  I turned to face the TV and rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe you actually watch this garbage.”

  Fallon curled up on the edge of my bed. Apparently all thoughts of helping me pack were forgotten along with the emotional goodbye that was loomin
g at the end of the night. “It’s not garbage,” she protested, but her gaze never left the screen. She pointed to an admittedly handsome dark-haired actor who brooded into the camera. “Seriously, Izzy, how could you call Henry Landon garbage?” She whipped her head around to give me a glare through slitted eyes. “How could you talk that way about the father of my babies?”

  I bent over with laughter as she turned back to the screen with a grin.

  “What was I thinking calling you melodramatic?” I teased.

  “I know, right?” she said, only half paying attention to me now that her gaze was once more focused on Henry Landon and the teen drama he starred in.

  “Ooh, maybe you’ll get to visit the set of Hermosa Beach,” she said, shifting on the bed to face me. “Maybe you’ll get to meet Henry!”

  I shook my head with a laugh, turning away from the ridiculous angsting that was happening onscreen. “I hate to burst your bubble, Fallon, but there’s no way I’ll be meeting celebrities. This internship isn’t that glamorous.”

  “You never know,” Fallon said with a sigh, already turning back to drool over the bright blue eyes and chiseled jaw that would have made the leading actor a star in their own right.

  The fact that he was basically Hollywood royalty, to boot? That was just overkill.

  “He’s so hot, it’s not even fair to the other actors,” Fallon said.

  I glanced over at the screen, cringing as the hottie delivered a line that made my ears bleed. The fact that this show was popular and that cheesy actor graced the cover of every magazine was just another reminder of how hard I’d have to work to make it in Hollywood. I didn’t have connections and my style of writing was better suited for low-budget indie passion projects than big-screen blockbusters, but one thing I did have going for me?

  I’d never been afraid of hard work, something the Henry Landons of the world knew nothing about. I glanced at the screen again and gave a huff of disgust at the terrible script and the over-the-top acting.

  Fallon was right when she’d said that Henry’s looks weren’t fair. But when it came to Henry Landon and his blessed life...there was no such thing as fair.

  Chapter One

  Henry

  Two months later...

  I pushed through the set door and stumbled out into the blinding California sun. I should’ve given my eyes a moment to adjust, but I was desperate to put as much space between me and my dad as possible.

  Besides, I didn’t need sight to navigate the winding back lots of the studio. I’d practically grown up here.

  I couldn’t take another second watching the director and crew fawn all over my father like he was some sort of king. Sure, he was the show’s executive producer, but that didn’t make him royalty.

  Try telling that to the great Lars Landon.

  What started as a visit to the set to see his son ended with him doling out the sort of career advice I so did not need to hear right now.

  Why take a minor role in an artsy indie film when you could be an A-list star? Then he’d laughed. He’d freakin’ laughed right in my face, like the idea of me doing serious acting was a joke.

  Movies were the family business—just not the kind of movies I wanted to be in. I could only imagine what he’d say if he ever read my script.

  I blinked again as I rounded a corner and got hit with a glare from the sun, temporarily blinding me so badly that I slammed into someone.

  I was so startled I bit my lip. I hissed in pain when I touched the fragile skin, already beginning to swell. I swore under my breath.

  Great! Just great!

  Now I’d need to sit in makeup for another hour before we could resume filming. Another thing my dad would ream me out about when I got back to finish our little ‘talk.’ He’d probably think I’d done it on purpose since I’d not so subtly told him exactly what I thought about the latest Hermosa Beach script.

  But seriously! How was I ever supposed to be taken seriously as an actor when I was playing Max Harding, a piece of man meat that said things like, I’m glad we’re taking this CPR course because you make me breathless.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to be ungrateful. I know a million actors who would kill for a part on the sensational teen drama, but I wanted to be known for more than looking good in a pair of boardshorts and having girls drool over me, which was precisely what the girl I’d just crashed into was doing.

  The blonde stared at me, speechless. I was about to ask if she might have a concussion with the dazed way she was blinking those big brown eyes at me, but she finally spoke. “You, you’re Henry Landon.”

  And my day keeps on getting better. “Look, I’m sorry, I don’t have time for an autograph or interview or whatever it is you want. I’m late for a meeting.” Not one I was looking forward to, but I didn’t need to explain myself to some random chick wandering around the lot.

  “E-excuse me?” she stuttered.

  I gave her a quick glance from head-to-toe. The girl was a mess. Her hair was falling out of a bun and her clothes looked like they’d seen better days. Still, she was cute in a sort of wide-eyed, golly-gee-aw-shucks kind of country bumpkin way. Any other day, any other time, I might have had some fun watching her drool all over me. But today…?

  No time for this.

  I ran a hand through my hair with a sigh. “Listen, I’m having a bad day. So why don’t you save us both some time and tell me what you want?”

  “Want?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Are you hurt?”

  “No but—”

  That was all I needed to hear. I turned on my heel and walked briskly away before she could trap me. Who knows, maybe she’d been waiting there just to run into me. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen to me.

  She was probably just some intern anyway. They were always skulking about, hoping to run into someone who would give them a leg up or a part as an extra. This town was full of leeches and I was done being the blood supply.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket as I walked away from the stunned blonde. I pulled it up and looked at the screen. Speaking of leeches… Elena Rhodes’ face flashed across my screen. I answered. “Yes, Elena, I know I’m late.”

  My ex and I were supposed to be filming a love scene this afternoon. Just another reason this day could suck it.

  “Oh, good I caught you. Would you be a darling and grab me a latte? I can barely keep my eyes open. You know how I like it. Thanks, babe. Smooches!”

  The call ended before I could object. I’d just passed the coffee cart and I hadn’t missed the endless line. I didn’t have time to stop, but unfortunately, I still had it bad for my ex-girlfriend and she knew it. Everyone had warned me she was only using me to get a part on Hermosa Beach, but I hadn’t wanted to listen. One look in those dark eyes and I’d been hooked. Sadly, she had not.

  As soon as Elena had her part she dumped me. Now I had the pleasure of working with my ex, a daily torture I endured because no matter how many times I told myself to move on, I still jumped every time she called, my stupid heart hopeful she wanted to get back together. Hence my rush to meet her today.

  But apparently I was making a stop at the coffee cart first for a triple, venti, half-caff, non-fat, no foam, soy latte; extra whip. I cringed as I rehearsed the pretentious order, but I turned on my heel all the same and marched toward the coffee cart, cutting to the front of the line.

  Most days, I despised being the son of famed Hollywood producer, Lars Landon, but sometimes the perks were a necessary evil. Like right now.

  I mean, why put up with being a celebrity if you couldn’t even shave off some seconds on your coffee run?

  Izzy

  I couldn’t believe my eyes as I watched Henry Landon emerge from the shadows he’d disappeared into moments ago only to cut in front of the twenty person deep coffee cart line I was now standing in. The nerve!

  I didn’t know why I was surprised. He had just mowed me down and then basically blamed me for it, claiming he w
as ‘having a bad day’, rather than apologizing.

  Like I wasn’t?

  Somehow, I doubted Henry Landon had ever seen a bad day in his life. He certainly hadn’t waited all morning for a shared bathroom, missed a bus, and was now doing intern grunt work by running out for a massive coffee order, only to deal with an egotistical star on top of it all.

  I crossed my arms as I watched him flash an ingratiating smile at the first person in line before he eased right in there and stole the guy’s spot. And no one complained! I’d like to think I wasn’t the only one giving the moron’s back a death glare.

  Maybe I was, though. Everyone else in line was craning their necks for a better view of the celebrity, as if this was their first time seeing a star in real life.

  Unless these people were fresh off a tour bus, it wasn’t.

  The lot was teeming with stars from Hermosa Beach and a few other popular TV shows. I’d only been working at the script development office here for two months and even I was already immune to being starstruck.

  For the most part.

  Usually.

  Gah! Why did I have to go and act starstruck today, of all days? And in front of him, of all people?

  I frowned down at the ground, purposefully not staring after Henry Landon and his giant ego as he walked away. Sure, his butt was probably amazing, but I wouldn’t know. I certainly didn’t care. I wasn’t even a fan of his show, let alone his butt.

  That humiliating scene back there? That was all Fallon’s fault. When I’d told my BFF that my new office was on the same lot as her favorite TV show, she’d freaked. Every day since she’d been texting me to see if I’d spotted Henry Landon.