That wasn’t the question she’d expected. It was easy to imagine Reed as a buffoon. In his prior comedic iteration, he’d always been the fun one on set—the first to suggest a drink and the last to finish last call. This new and improved Reed behaved like the perfect actor. He was polite to all, never late, and always available to help. Reed had started as a child actor begging for scraps in Dickensian adaptations. He missed little in the complicated dynamics of the industry. Not that knowing divorcing a powerful Hollywood agent might create complications for the divorcee required years of experience, but she’d never expected him to be thoughtful about it.

“He’s not worried about me or my career anymore. Our last conversation solidified that.”

“He can be difficult.”

Anna laughed. “That’s one word for it.”

“If I can do anything to help...”

“Before you continue, I really don’t want to talk to you about my ex-husband.”

Reed nodded and took a deep breath. “I must apologize—”

“You don’t need to apologize to me.”

“I do,” he said. “I made the shoot in Vancouver difficult. I was unprofessional.”

“That’s one word for it.”

Reed and Jenny had met on the set of a romantic comedy Anna had directed for Rialto Pictures. As usual, Reed had played the villainous ex-boyfriend of the heroine. He had been a disaster. What had started out as a fun on-set romance had turned into Reed missing his morning calls and Jenny cleaning up his messes. After Vancouver, Reed had visited Jenny in Los Angeles between projects. Jenny had flown to meet him wherever he was filming. The two of them had spent a whirlwind year and a half together before the tumultuous relationship ended.

“I can’t undo the past, but I do apologize.”

“Thanks.” Anna pursed her lips. “You were professional in London, and I appreciate your help here.”

“This shoot is a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”

“Jenny is the one who matters, so you should be talking to her.”

“I have.” Reed sighed. “I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.”

“Who says you’ll get the chance?”

“I know I was an utter fool to leave her like I did.”

“You don’t understand.” Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “Jenny wouldn’t leave on her own. When I found her in Paris, she refused to leave the hotel room for the next two days, because she’d convinced herself you were coming back. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so devastated as the day we flew home. When we got back to Los Angeles, she didn’t leave her apartment for weeks.”

Anna had stayed with Jenny, making her tea and binge-watching television with her, anything to help her friend get back to normal. It had taken weeks, but finally, Jenny had been herself again.