Written in the Stars

by Rachael Eliker

  “Your mom taught you well then,” I murmured, avoiding looking him in the face.

  “That would make her day hearing I’m finally a success story, because the last time she brought it up, she was about to smack me upside the head for belching at a family dinner. I’m pretty sure she was beginning to think I was a lost cause.”

  “Most men probably are.” I laughed. “I don’t know if I could’ve handled a brother and all the gross things my friends had to say about theirs.”

  Warren tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket and shrugged. “Sometimes, I suppose we are hopeless.”

  Pointing to one of the backstage monitors, Vanessa mentioned, “Becky’s starting her last song. You’re up next.”

  I could hear the noise of the cheering crowd flowing in through the curtains, and it made the world start spinning. Without any warning, blackness closed in around me, and my legs lost all strength. Sure I was going to hit the ground with a thud but helpless to stop it, I was rescued by a pair of strong arms.

  “Eloise!” I could hear Warren’s voice, but it echoed distantly.

  I tried to force myself back to consciousness, but I was stuck in a blurry dreamland where I had no control over my body or mind.

  Faintly, I heard Vanessa speaking. “She’s fine. Here. Let me.”

  A sharp slap stung my cheek, and it jolted me back to reality. I opened my eyes to see Warren hovering over me, Vanessa right behind, looking smug, and Mandy was hurrying over to see what the commotion was all about.

  Touching my cheek, I said, “I blacked out.”

  “Yeah,” Warren said, worry written all over his face and his arms still clutching me. My body was pressed next to his, and I couldn’t help but admire the cut of his muscles beneath his button up shirt. His time spent with Harper Music’s personal trainer had been so very good to him.

  Noticing how physically close our mouths were, I felt the need to remind Warren of my stipulation to working together. “No kissing, remember?”

  His eyes darted down to my lips, and a naughty smirk tugged at his. “I remember, though I won’t withhold mouth to mouth if it’s required.”

  The zip of giddiness that ran through my stomach warned me I was slipping into dangerous territory, so I switched directions. I asked, “Did you slap me?”

  Warren’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously. “I’d never lay a hand on a woman. It was all her.” Warren pointed an accusatory finger at Vanessa.

  “Guilty,” Vanessa confessed facetiously.

  “Well, ow,” I said, my fingertips brushing across my skin where it throbbed and stung.

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Vanessa said coolly.

  “What’s the problem?” Mandy asked, her eyes darting around the small crowd of crew members that had also come to see my embarrassing spectacle.

  “I blacked out. Just a teensy bit,” I told her, while Warren helped me to my feet, then I stepped away from Warren’s grip. He didn’t let go until he was sure I was steady. “Nerves, I guess.”

  Thrusting a chilled bottle of water into my hands, Mandy said without a hint of sympathy, “Drink this. We don’t have time for nerves or heat exhaustion or anything else. You pull yourself together or Mr. Drake will hear about it.”

  I pursed my lips and went rigid at Mandy’s threat. Obediently, I took the lid off of the water and guzzled it, surprised how much better hydrating made me feel.

  Mandy marched away, and the small gathering dissipated after I reassured everyone I was feeling a million times better, even if it was only partly true.

  “Becky’s finishing up. Good luck,” Vanessa said, giving me a quick squeeze. “I’m going to have Wanda powder my nose one more time. I’ll be watching. Just let everyone see the Eloise we all know and love, and you’ll do fantastic.”

  She practically skipped away, stopping to give Harrison a rather in-depth kiss that made me blush just witnessing it. I turned back around and realized Warren had been watching, too. Furrowing his brow and smiling boyishly at their unrestrained public display of affection, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Sure your nerves are alright?” he asked, bumping me lightly with his shoulder while keeping his hands tucked in his pockets.

  “They’re raw enough to be made into sushi, but I’m not about to tell Mandy that,” I said. At the thought of food, my stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t had a solid meal since I’d woken up because the idea of eating had been entirely too revolting. On the cusp of my first real performance, eating suddenly felt like a priority again. I added, “Speaking of sushi, I could really go for some right about now.”

  Warren’s face scrunched up with disgust. “Sushi? I never could understand why people are so enamored by raw fish. Give me a ham sandwich any day.”

  I made a face in response. “Ham? Salted pig butt? Yuck.”

  “Are you dead inside?” Warren asked as he chuckled. “Honey baked ham is practically manna from heaven.”

  “False. Give me a roast beef with horseradish sauce any day and then we’ll talk about what a good sandwich is.”

  Warren tilted his head back and forth. “I’ll give you that. Roast beef is king.”

  I looked up at him, and we both burst out laughing. “At least we can agree on that.”

  For a split second, bantering playfully with Warren almost made me forget the enormous pressure I was carrying to perform to the standards of Harper Music. It was just the two of us, having a laugh, ribbing each other about what deli meat was superior until one of the backstage crew came over, indicating that it was less than a minute until I was supposed to make my entrance on stage.

  Warren walked with me, and I was silently grateful for his gesture of solidarity. Not many could understand the fear I was facing, and though I’d never really asked, I was sure Warren had at least some apprehension about performing, like all normal people did. Vanessa and her methodic, thrill-seeking personality that actually enjoyed strutting and singing in front of thousands of potentially judgmental people seemed like the exception rather than the rule.

  Putting a hand on my shoulder, Warren gave me a gentle shake. I peeked over at him, and his expression was one with such sincerity that it made me ache for our relationship that had dissolved so quickly. It was a mere few weeks of bliss, but as I’d quickly discovered, he was a lot more emotionally mature and sensitive than a lot of the guys I’d dated before.

  “Everyone out there is a cat,” he said.

  I blinked. “A cat?”

  “Yeah, you know. Meow, meow. A cute little kitty.”

  Wondering if he’d gone off his rocker, it clicked in my mind why he’d be coaching me in such a bizarre way. Smothering my face behind my hands, I said, “Oh, my gosh. Vanessa told you what I made her promise to never repeat to anyone, didn’t she?”

  Warren laughed so hard his entire body shook with the effort. “I think it’s an adorable coping tactic.”

  I tried to resist but found myself laughing right along with him. “I’m never telling anyone my secrets ever again.”

  “Oh, you know what they say about saying never,” Warren said, catching a tear with his knuckle that trickled down his cheek from laughing so hard.

  “What’s that?”

  “Never say never.”

  I rolled my eyes playfully at him, and one last time, he wished me luck. Taking in a lungful of air, I waited for Becky to exit off the stage before I was given the cue to enter. While the crowd was still cheering for Becky, I strutted onto the stage and raised my arm high above my head, waving at the animated audience. I was surprised how much lighter I felt after a few minutes of meaningless fun with Warren, and as the fans renewed their wild applause and whoops upon seeing me, I was sure I was going to rocket right out of the atmosphere.

  Taking my spot front and center, I listened for the music filtering in through my earpiece to start singing. Beside me, backup dancers twirled and flipped while I did my best to give the kind of performance that wouldn�
�t only make Mandy not run and tattle to Mr. Drake, but one that I could be proud of.

  At the end of my set, an impressive grand piano appeared and Warren made his entrance, eliciting the female half of the audience to go absolutely berserk. Warren was the only male on the tour and had clearly been a fan favorite from the beginning of the show, not only for his incredible singing ability but also, if I was being honest, because he was an absolute babe. His brown eyes twinkled with good humor, and he was everything any hot-blooded woman would want. In the middle of several thousand people, I caught myself wondering if maybe—just maybe—a second chance with Warren wouldn’t be absolutely insane.

  Taking my seat next to him on the piano bench, I was glad the sound technicians had suggested my microphone be turned off between numbers so I could catch my breath without the audience having to hear me pant. I had just finished the most choreography-intense routine Tad had helped me learn, and it was a complete one-eighty to sitting at the piano to perform the soulful ballad with Warren.

  My hand brushed his as I situated myself, Warren leaned over, whispering into my ear, “Are you flirting with me?”

  My eyes shot up to his, and I could see the corner of his mouth lift up at his own joke. “You wish,” I shot back.

  “Then why are you staring at my lips?”

  Involuntarily, my gaze dropped down to his smiling mouth, and I could have smacked myself for not having the willpower to resist his mind games. My eyes bounced back up to his eyes, and I shook my head, trying to rein in a smile that threatened to break my face if it got any bigger.

  “You’re probably reconsidering wanting to ask me to kiss you right now, but I’m afraid we’re in the middle of a concert. We should probably wait until we’re done,” he teased.

  I shook my head, laughing at how brazen he was being. “Thank goodness no one but me can hear how ridiculous you sound. Now shut up. Let’s give the audience what they came to see.”

  Our duet went off without a hitch. I loved singing with Warren and hearing our voices blending so smoothly. When we finished, I almost had to cup my hands over my ears as the fans practically turned rabid. Standing from the bench, Warren took my hand, and we bowed simultaneously. When he let go of my hand, he clapped along with the audience, and gestured his appreciation and admiration for my performance before I took my leave and escaped backstage.

  “Wow,” Vanessa said the second I crossed the curtains. “You really rocked it out there.”

  “I think I’m finally catching a glimpse of your love of performing,” I admitted. “Speaking of which, you’ve been telling secrets.”

  Someone from the sound crew detached all of my microphones and earpieces, tucking them into their own padded box until the next show while someone else handed me a clean towel and a fresh bottle of water.

  Vanessa batted her big, dark brown eyes innocently at me. “Whatever are you suggesting?”

  “You told Warren about singing for my cat.”

  “And?” Vanessa said flippantly. “It’s not like I told him you snore.”

  My mouth fell open in an unflattering way. “I do not.”

  “Yes, you do. You sawed logs every night we were roommates during the show.”

  “Whatever,” I bristled. “You’re worse at divulging secrets than my sister, Stella. You’d better watch it.”

  “Or what?”

  “All I’m saying is you’d just better not be going around telling everyone that tidbit of information or some of your skeletons might fall out of the closet.”

  “Everyone as in Warren?” Vanessa asked, eagerly awaiting my reaction.

  Mandy came to the rescue before I had to figure out just what to say. Even she looked pleasantly surprised at how well I’d done as she handed over something warm packaged in aluminum foil.

  “Is this my bonus for not face planting on stage?” I quipped as my stomach tightened and grumbled angrily, reminding me I was so famished I’d eat my own cat if it was what she was giving me.

  “Not from me,” Mandy shook her head, barely looking up from the tablet she was forever studying. “Warren asked me to get it for you. Vanessa? You all ready to finish up the concert?”

  While they hashed out the details, I took a step back and unwrapped Warren’s gift. It shouldn’t have surprised me to find a hearty helping of roast beef, smothered in horseradish sauce stuffed between rye bread, but holding it in my hands, I thought I might cry.

  I’d grossly underestimated Warren and was seriously reconsidering that request for a kiss.

  Chapter Seven

  With each concert performance, my confidence increased to the point that I was beginning to enjoy myself, a lot like how I imagined it must be for Vanessa to take the spotlight. My palms still sweat, and adrenaline circulated through my body as I stood on the edge of the stage, but it was more of a pleasant rush than a panic-inducing sensation. The biggest bonus of the tour was all the extra time I was getting to spend with Warren. It all sort of felt like an old-fashioned chaperoned date, where we were rarely left alone to slip into our old habits that had left me more alone than before we’d become a couple. I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t enjoyed being around Warren, to the point I’d loosened up enough to flirt with him. While I was aware that all the batting my eyelashes at him wasn’t entirely benign and would most likely eventually lead to a rekindling of our relationship if I kept it up, I still hadn’t worked up the courage to request that kiss. Vanessa shamelessly egged me on, but I’d kept tight lips about my feelings towards Warren, especially around her. My sentiments about Warren were one thing that I couldn’t afford to have her casually reveal. I was still teetering between my own insecurity and my desire to love and feel loved. That made me feel uncomfortably vulnerable.

  “You ready for this?” Warren asked as we stood with all of our tour mates in a cramped room, waiting to be announced at a V.I.P. party for super fans of the show after our stop in Omaha.

  I shrugged, not really sure how I felt. “It’s just a party. That in itself seems less intimidating than going on stage.”

  “You think so?” Warren questioned, leaning in close enough that I could pick up the fresh scent of soap on his warm skin. “Having people up close and personal, scrutinizing me down to how closely I shaved is a lot more nerve wracking.”

  A small smile started on my lips at his confession. “Really? Warren, the southern charmer is apprehensive about people pleasing? I would’ve thought you lived for attention like this.”

  Warren’s eyes shone with humor, and he chuckled softly. “I do love good conversation but prefer it one-on-one.”

  His eyes fastened onto mine and for a brief moment, it seemed as though he’d worked some sort of magic that made it feel like we were the only two in in the whole universe. In my clutch, my phone trilled, rudely interrupting my trance. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

  Warren tipped toward me, trying to see my phone. “Boyfriend calling?”

  The corners of his lips curled up at his own joke, but I could see in his expression that he was seriously interested in my answer.

  “Ha,” I laughed. “Hardly. It’s my mom. If you’ll excuse me, I’d better take it. Waiting is not her forte.”

  “Surely she knows how busy you are on tour.”

  “Let’s just put it this way—she’s the kind of lady who’ll call fifty times in a row until I pick up, and even if I was in a coma, it wouldn’t be a good excuse not to answer.”

  “So that’s where you got your persistent nature from.”

  I opened my mouth to answer until I realized he was teasing. Excusing myself, I weaseled my way to the back door, past Vanessa and Harrison, who barely acknowledged me, while they were lost in one of their starry-eyed staring sessions. The back door was blocked by pair of burly security guards who looked like if they bent their arms in their black suits, their biceps would shred the seams. I hurriedly explained that I was going to step outside to take a quick phone call so I could have some privac
y; they didn’t budge.

  “I’ll be back in just a second,” I said. They traded a look that didn’t seem like they were convinced. Holding my right hand up in a mock oath, I promised, “I’m not going to run off. I just want to talk to my mother without everyone overhearing.”

  The security guard with his hair trimmed in a buzzcut swung his head behind him toward the door. “Be quick. We’ll never hear the end of it if you’re late to the party.”

  “I won’t tell Mr. Drake if you don’t.”

  The guard shook his head. “Not Mr. Drake. Mandy’s the one who’ll chew us up and spit us out. You’ve got five minutes.”

  I laughed at their fear of Mandy, much to their annoyance. “I’ll do you one better and be back in three.”

  He held open the door to a private outdoor parking lot as I put my phone to my ear.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  My mom’s cheerful voice came through loud and clear. “Honey! I was beginning to worry that something was the matter when it took you so long to answer.”

  “I know, sorry,” I said, tipping my head back and studying the turbulent gray clouds rippling with shivers of lightening overhead. A lone raindrop landed with a splash right between my eyebrows, and I carefully blotted it away. With how humid the air was, I wouldn’t have been surprised if my naturally straight hair was curled into a frizz by the time I went back inside. “Tonight’s extra busy because I’m about to go in for a meet and greet party with some fans.”

  “Oh, you’re still doing your music thing?”

  The disappointment in her voice was tangible, and it made my own heart feel like it’d dropped with a squishy thud on the pavement. Scrunching my face up and biting the side of my cheek until the snarky answers my mind was coming up with passed, I answered in an even tone, “Yes, Mother. Remember I’ll be in Denver this coming week? Think of it as a paid work trip to come see you.”