Written in the Stars

by Rachael Eliker

  “Was that Candy Watson you took back to Bruce’s office?” he asked, his eyes alight with excitement.

  “Uh, yeah. Why?”

  “You two know each other, right? From that show you were just on?”

  “Sort of. We’re not best friends or anything.”

  Motioning me closer with a flick of his fingers, I leaned in until I could count the pores on his nose. “Think you could get me her number? She’s hot.”

  Immediately, my spine snapped me to standing straight. My blood pressure rose, watching him wiggle his eyebrows to try and coerce contact information out of me. What was with everyone today? Since when had I picked up the unofficial title of matchmaker?

  Clenching my fists at my side, my words were terse. “Do I look like Cupid? Do I have a little bow and curly hair and cute little wings?”

  The accountant—Tony, if I was remembering correctly in my rage—also drew back. “No. I just thought—”

  “You are the second person today who thought I’d enjoy setting them up with someone. News flash: I have a lousy love life, and if you think I’m going to put a guy’s happiness in front of my own by inflating Candy’s already dangerously inflamed ego by letting her know yet another guy is drooling over her when I could be trying to find my own happily ever after instead, you are seriously mistaken.”

  My words knocked Tony into his seat, and he wheeled back to his desk, avoiding eye contact. Marching back to the front of the office, I flopped into my chair, accidentally slamming my shin into the leg of my desk.

  “Figures,” I muttered bitterly, rubbing at my sore leg. While I tried to let my anger evaporate, the entirety of my crappy day kept replaying through my mind.

  The phone on my desk rang, and I yanked it off the receiver. “Deluxe Music Records. Eloise, speaking,” I growled.

  My anything-but-cordial greeting was met with a moment of silence. “Having a rough day?”

  “Mandy?” I lowered my voice. “What are you doing calling here?”

  Mandy was the personal assistant to Harper Music CEO, Mr. Drake, and had been a constant presence while America’s Next Pop Star had been filming. To say that Harper Music and Deluxe Music Records were in competition was an understatement. They were more like squabbling siblings.

  “That’s all the more you have to say to me?” Mandy teased. “I thought we were friends.”

  “You’re also the secretary of the biggest rival we have in New York City. I’m probably breaking some agreement in my employment contract just speaking to you,” I whispered, cupping my hand over the receiver.

  “Well, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “My employment?”

  “Yes, Mr. Drake wants—”

  There was some static on the other end of the line as Mandy scuffled with someone, demanding that whoever it was gave her back the phone. They didn’t. Hearing Vanessa’s rich, Colombian accent on the other side, a wave of happiness engulfed me.

  “Eloise,” Vanessa said, her tone as cool and collected as ever, like she hadn’t just had hand to hand combat with Mandy, who’d be a formidable opponent for even the toughest of street fighters. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

  “Please tell me it’s good news and that someone doesn’t need my dating advice or matchmaking services,” I said flatly.

  “Huh? No. No love involved in this invitation, other than your love of music.”

  I popped to the end of my captain’s chair. “Vanessa, what’s this about?”

  Vanessa stalled for dramatics, and I would have rung her neck if we were in the same room while she teased me. “Can you meet after work tonight?”

  Chapter Two

  Vanessa hadn’t uttered another word during the phone call, other than that I was invited to meet her and Mandy after work. She gave me an address and a teasing giggle before hanging up on me in the middle of my desperate attempt to glean even a sliver of useable information from her.

  Finding myself in front of a mid-Manhattan apartment high rise after work, the doorman let me in. I muttered my appreciation for his service. The bewildered look on my face must have given away that I knew I was in a place way too high class for me.

  “Eloise Stauch?” the man at the front desk asked, his words heavy with a delightful English accent.

  “Yes…” I trailed off, not sure why he knew my name.

  People recognizing me for my time on America’s Next Pop Star had begun to wane, especially when they spotted me on city transportation. I was sure most people thought I’d probably achieved some sort of success beyond the show that allowed me to ride in limos and eat caviar for breakfast. Little did they know how much my life hadn’t changed since the show.

  “Ms. de la Paz is expecting you,” he answered, watching me with kind brown eyes.

  I let out a breath, relieved that there wasn’t going to be any awkward requests for selfies and autographs. I was hopeless when it came to knowing how to schmooze fans.

  “Perfect, thanks. Which apartment?”

  The doorman smiled, anticipating my reaction to his answer. “The top floor penthouse.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course. Harper Music and all. Shall I see myself up?”

  He gestured for me to follow. “It’s only accessible with a special code. Allow me.”

  The heels of his polished leather Oxfords clicked smartly as he marched along the marble lobby flooring, while I followed behind, trying not to make a sound. Pressing the elevator button for me, he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for the elevator to return to the first floor.

  When the elevator dinged, he held the door as I entered, then pressed the code into a keypad.

  “Thank you,” I said, my fingers twiddling with the straps of my purse.

  “My pleasure, Ms. Stauch,” said the man. Stepping back out, he smiled gently at me again, and I couldn’t help but return it. It felt like he was the first person who’d truly seen me all day, and because of it, my confidence grew.

  The ride to the top floor seemed to take an eternity. I’d been in skyscrapers in New York City before, but they’d all been office buildings, not private residences. As the elevator slowed, I held my breath. I didn’t know why I was nervous to see Mandy and Vanessa again—it’d only been a few weeks. I knew they’d both been busy following the show’s production, but the insecure part of me whispered that they’d forgotten all about little old me, and that’s why they hadn’t called to get together before, beyond a few texts from Vanessa checking in. The majority were to ask my advice about her newly hatched relationship with Harrison, Harper Music’s wardrobe manager. Her insecurities in the face of her unfailing confidence made her seem a touch more human and infinitely more likable than the diva persona most people knew.

  The door opened, and I gasped at the apartment. It was simple, impeccably tidy, and minimalist. The backdrop of the city’s skyline filled the one-eighty view and was absolutely stunning. In the center of the penthouse, Mandy was sitting in an armchair across from Harrison and Vanessa, who were draped across each other on the couch.

  “Eloise!” Vanessa cried, jumping up from her spot and rushing over to me.

  Her reaction put me at ease, and I was grateful for her reminder that we were friends, even if we were near total opposites. Pulling me into a breath-voiding hug, I patted her on the back.

  When she let me go, I gasped, “And you tell me I need to chill out when I’m hugging people.”

  “Sorry,” Vanessa said with a laugh, pushing her long dark hair behind her ear. “I can’t tell you what a relief it is to see you.”

  “If it takes a secret, after-work meeting to get together, I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

  Guilt altered her expression, and she chewed her lower lip. “About that. I’ve been so busy post-production. I kept meaning to call you to go to dinner…”

  Holding up my hand to her face to stop her, I interjected, “I’m teasing, Vanessa. Really. I know how busy filmi
ng America’s Next Pop Star was and now that Harper Music has their hands on you, I don’t imagine your schedule has gotten any less hectic.”

  “We don’t want her going stale,” Mandy chimed in, barely looking up from the laptop she had balancing on her knees.

  Giving her a dirty look, Vanessa asserted, “Of all people, I will not ever go stale.”

  “That’s because we won’t give you the chance,” Mandy coolly answered in return.

  Scoffing, Vanessa gestured for me to follow her over. I took a seat in the vacant, pearl-colored armchair, not quite letting myself relax into the back cushion. I was the outsider in this conversation and though we once had the common bond of loyalty to Harper Music, I’d been given a gracious thanks, then promptly booted from their show without another word.

  “Nice to see you again,” Harrison said as Vanessa sat down, snuggling up under his arm.

  “I’m glad you’ve finally clued in to all of Vanessa’s not-so-subtle attempts to woo you,” I teased him. “I was beginning to think you were a lost cause.”

  Harrison’s cheeks pinkened adorably, embarrassed by the fact that he’d been fooled by Candy’s attempts to use him to her advantage. She apparently had hoped Harrison could give her the edge she needed over the competition. Ever the professional though, Harrison had never favored her over anyone else he was designing for. The two had dated several weeks before he finally had a revelation and saw through her charade and dumped her. Love, it seemed, blinded even the best of men. I wondered if that was what had happened to Warren…perhaps he was too wrapped up in the physical aspect of our short-lived relationship to care to know the real me. I sighed at the thought of him, pushing back the lump in my throat that seemed ever-present when thoughts of Warren flooded into my brain. I really needed to get ahold of my emotions before they turned me into a sobbing mess.

  “Yeah,” Harrison said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking a tad sheepish. “I’m glad I finally woke up.”

  “Me, too,” Vanessa agreed, playing with a curl of hair that curved out over the top of Harrison’s ear. “Thanks for your help, by the way. I think your advice was just what I needed to give Harrison the kick in the pants to convince him we were made for each other.”

  “Oh,” I flicked my wrist at her words, “it was nothing. As you recall, I’m apparently great with advice when it comes to other people’s love lives, just not my own.”

  “It’ll work for you someday, too,” Vanessa said, her dark eyes brightening.

  “Not unless there’s some serious divine intervention.”

  Vanessa and Harrison exchanged a look I couldn’t quite read. Apparently, they’d already reached the stage in their relationship where they could telepathically communicate about my pathetic love life without making a peep. Jealousy constricted my chest, and I forced myself to take a deep breath to stretch my lungs, pushing past the sadness.

  “Speaking of thanks, I also wanted to let you know how much I appreciated your help with the song demo of All I Ever Wanted. I’m positive that song was what tipped the scales in my favor and ended up winning me the competition.”

  Nervously, I eyed Mandy. Two of Harper Music’s other stars and guest mentors on America’s Next Pop Star—Ruby Hawkins and Kiki Loveless—had recruited me to sing a demo track for a brand-new song Ruby had written for Vanessa after I’d been voted off the show. It was supposed to be done anonymously, so none of us would face the wrath of Mr. Drake. None of us were about to ask if it would give Vanessa an unfair advantage and instead, plunged into the project, pledging to ask forgiveness instead of permission if we were ever discovered.

  Mandy looked up over the top of her laptop while blood drained out of my face, leaving my already pale skin whiter than an unroasted marshmallow. Her warm brown eyes smiled, and she chuckled softly.

  “Mr. Drake already knows,” she confirmed.

  “Usually, I’m a stickler for the rules of a game, but I couldn’t let Candy win,” I blurted. “I mean, it’s not like I tried to run her over with a car to take her out. And if I did, I would’ve only run over her legs, not actually tried to kill her. Promise.”

  Mandy gave me an odd look, while Vanessa sputtered out a laugh. “I’ve missed you, Eloise.”

  With the realization of what I’d just said sinking in, the blood rushed back the opposite direction, making my cheeks feel like they were on fire. “I’m not a serial killer, I swear.”

  “The likes of Candy Watson might drive anyone to madness,” Mandy said with a smirk.

  “Ha! Good one.” Harrison chuckled. “Drive to madness…”

  I laughed along with them, but it was choppy and forced. I had no idea why I said some of the things I did, but I was always so helplessly awkward when in room of successful, beautiful people. I was a lowly secretary—not even a powerhouse personal assistant that had everything under control at all times like Mandy. A knot of tension balled itself up and settled in my neck, pinching painfully at my nerves.

  Massaging it out with my hand, I asked, “So, if this secret post-work meeting wasn’t to get me to confess to helping Vanessa or contemplating murdering Candy, what’s it about? Judging by the bowl of plastic fruit on the table, you didn’t exactly invite me over for dinner.”

  Closing her laptop, Mandy gave me her full attention. “You’re right. This isn’t a social gathering. Mr. Drake would like you—”

  “Harper Music wants you back,” Vanessa blurted out, garnering an annoyed glance from Mandy.

  “Wants me back?” I shook my head. “For what?”

  “Mr. Drake has hand selected a few of the contestants he wants to have come back for a quick summer concert tour,” Mandy said. “We’ll travel around to some of the major cities to get some experience performing in front of larger audiences while there’s still a lot of buzz around the show, and it’s fresh in people’s minds.”

  “Candy…?” I asked warily.

  “She declined,” Mandy answered. “She said she was content making her own way to success.”

  “She did not,” Vanessa said accusingly. “She told you she didn’t need Harper Music’s pity and that she wasn’t going to come back as some pathetic excuse of a performer, sharing the stage with the likes of people such as Eloise and me.”

  Harrison chuckled, shaking his head, before muttering how he couldn’t believe he’d actually dated Candy.

  “That would explain why I saw her at Deluxe Music Records today for a meeting with Bruce Dyson. That was kind of a shock.”

  “I’m sure,” Mandy mused. “Half of me hopes she signs with them so she can be out of my hair for a good while. At the same time, I feel sorry for whoever has to deal with the likes of her.”

  “No kidding,” I muttered, remembering just how effectively she’d squashed any semblance of self-esteem I had with one of her mocking, down-the-nose glances. “So, if Candy’s out, who does that leave?”

  Vanessa started listing off on her fingers, “Becky, Anora, me, you—”

  “If you agree,” Mandy interjected.

  “She will,” Vanessa said confidently, arching an eyebrow to see if I would even consider refuting her.

  “Warren?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  I wasn’t sure if I was thrilled or terrified at the prospect of being in the same room with him again, much less spending a chunk of my summer taking a countrywide concert tour with him. There was only so much avoiding someone that I could do if we were forced to work together.

  “I haven’t gotten in touch with him yet,” Mandy answered.

  Not totally unexpectedly, my heart dipped in my chest. My knee started to jiggle as I contemplated the offer Harper Music was presenting to me. I had already used up every last second of vacation I’d accrued at Deluxe Music Records with the show, so taking a summer off to chase my secret dream—again—seemed out of the question. I doubted Bruce would be so accommodating knowing I was off gallivanting with Harper Music. The first time, I’d simply told him it was personal
time and left it at that. When I had returned, he barely uttered a peep about my appearance on the show, probably because my work contract as an administrative assistant didn’t include anything about fraternizing with the competition. But, if I wanted to have a job and a place to come home to, even if it was with Bridget and her constant whining for groceries when all was said and done, I wasn’t going to be able to go missing in action again and certainly not so soon.

  I hesitated, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees so I could force my leg to be still. “I don’t know…”

  Vanessa shrugged and shook her head, obviously not comprehending my hang up. “What don’t you know about?”

  “This offer. I mean, my job. Some of us still need to work in menial jobs to make money to pay our way through life. We didn’t all win a recording contract with Harper Music and the perks that come along with it.”

  “I know,” Vanessa agreed, “and as a thank you for your vote of confidence in me by helping me win, this apartment is yours.”

  I heard what she’d said, but the words didn’t register as anything coherent. “Excuse me?”

  “This apartment. It’s yours. It was one of the perks you mentioned when I signed my contract with Harper Music but I want you to have it,” Vanessa answered proudly.

  “But where are you going to live?” I asked.

  Mandy smirked. “Vanessa already has two other residences in New York City. I think she’ll be fine.”

  My jaw unhinged and about fell into my lap. “What? Two? How much of a bonus did you get from Harper Music?”

  Vanessa squirmed next to Harrison. “I don’t know that I ever mentioned…”

  “Her dad is a billionaire,” Mandy said frankly. “Ever heard of StarTech?”

  Jumping to the edge of my seat, I screeched, “StarTech?! You mean, your dad is Antonio de la Paz? As in, the sexy older guy that was just on the cover of Forbes magazine?”

  Shuddering with revulsion, Vanessa begged, “Please don’t say the word sexy about my papá ever again.”

  “Vanessa!” I cried, tugging at my hair. “How did you fail to mention this to me?”