“I know. I suppose at least something good is coming from all this jaunting around of yours. I was actually calling to have you come over for Sunday dinner. Stella will be here.”
Rather than correcting her that I wasn’t on tour as some sort of bizarre vacation, I kept quiet, watching my feet as I wandered across the parking lot, wishing I had enough backbone to stand up for myself. My audition and acceptance onto America’s Next Pop Star might have come to a shock to my parents if they’d understood the gravity of what winning would’ve meant. Instead, they assumed it was a phase that would blow over, like a spring thunderstorm sliding off the mountain slopes. Then life would go back to normal which meant nothing out-of-the-ordinary or exceptional would happen, just as it shouldn’t to any of us Stauches. I doubted they’d even turned on the television to watch me compete.
“Yes, it’ll be nice to see everyone. It’s been too long since I’ve been home,” I answered.
“Well, you know I keep telling you that you can always move back. I’m still not sure why you had to go running off to New York City to be a secretary. There are plenty of administrative assistant positions here.”
Ignoring her comment, I asked, “Is it alright if I invite a few people along with me to dinner? It’s been a while since any of us have had a home cooked meal.”
I could practically hear my mother bursting with happiness through the phone. “Of course! Your friends are welcome here any time. I’m making a honey baked ham with mashed potatoes, roasted asparagus, and some dinner rolls. I’m thinking carrot cake for dessert, though that might be a little heavy after such a big meal. I could do a light, no-bake cheesecake instead. I’ll have to run to the store beforehand.”
Fat drops of rain were starting to fall with increased frequency from the swirling clouds overhead, and a bolt of lightning produced a magnificent clash of thunder that rattled my bones.
“It all sounds delicious Mom, but I’ve got to go. See you in a few days.”
Saying our goodbyes, I hung up and grabbed the lower half of my dress, trotting back to the building as fast as I could right when the floodgates opened from the heavens. I hadn’t realized how far I’d moseyed while talking to my mom, and in heels, I was barely able to mince steps that brought me any closer to the back door. With each passing second, the intensity of the rain only increased, and I cursed myself for going outside in the first place.
I wove between the cars until I had a clear shot to the door, but as I opened my stride, desperate for the safety of the building, the tip of my heel caught in a storm drain. I fell with an almighty thud into a murky puddle of water that splashed over me like a tidal wave. Scrambling to my feet, I returned to yank my shoe out of the hole.
The second I pounded on the backdoor, the security guards opened it. The buzzcut brute was smirking at something his cohort had said until they laid eyes on me. Jerking me inside, he slammed the door behind me like it was the only protection between us and the zombie apocalypse. All eyes in the room turned to me.
“What the—?” Mandy yelled as she stormed over to me.
The security guard pointed to me, putting the full weight of blame squarely on my shoulders. “She asked to go outside to make a phone call.”
Mandy’s brown eyes glared at him, uninterested in his excuse and he submissively backed down.
“What are we going to do with you?” Mandy muttered as she took in my appearance.
“Eloise!” Vanessa cried theatrically as she tugged Harrison along. “What, did you go for a swim in the sewer?”
Goosebumps ran the length of my bare arms as the water dripped off me, collecting in a pool at my feet. As I shivered, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Glancing behind me, I took the hankie Warren handed over for me to use. My fingers brushed against his. That simple gesture created enough heat emanating from my core to make me forget I was cold. Taking a step back as Mandy and Vanessa elbowed their way in, both rapidly firing questions and trying to figure out a solution to my predicament, Warren let them have their space. I mouthed a thank you to him, and he subtly nodded his acceptance.
“The party’s already started, and we’re supposed to announce you in five minutes,” Mandy said with a very pronounced frown.
“I’m really sorry,” I said, my teeth chattering as I caught a draft of the air conditioning. “My mom called.”
Mandy’s frown deepened at my admission, but she said nothing else. “Harrison? Do you have another outfit handy? She can’t go out looking like…” Mandy waved her hand the length of my body while she searched for the right word. “This.”
Harrison shook his head and I cringed. “Sorry. Everything I’ve got is packed up and on its way to our next stop.”
“Well, she can’t go out there drenched,” Mandy said sternly. “It’s bad enough that Wanda and Casey have already left.”
“She could always go out in her unmentionables,” Vanessa commented with a teasing smirk. “That would certainly make a statement.”
Shooting daggers at her in warning, I said decidedly, “I’d rather go out in a trash bag.”
Vanessa laughed while Mandy scrutinized me. When a light went off in her eyes, I knew she’d come up with a solution. “Vanessa? You still have some makeup in your bag?”
“Wouldn’t be caught dead without it,” she answered proudly.
Snapping her fingers, Mandy gestured for me to follow her. “There’s a women’s restroom across the hall. Let’s go.”
I knew better than to ask questions when Mandy was on a mission so I wordlessly followed. Pushing past the swinging paneled door of the bathroom, I had to cup my hands over my mouth to keep from shrieking at the reflection of myself in the mirror. One set of false lashes was missing completely and the other was dangling by a thread at the corner of my eye. My hair was limper than a dead ferret and the gorgeous red dress Harrison had put me in sagged on my body like the loose folds of rhino skin.
“Oh, my goodness,” was all I managed to squeak. Warren had seen me like this? I wanted to cry out of mortification until I remembered he hadn’t even cracked a smile when handing over his hankie.
“Yeah,” Mandy said as the full gravity of the situation finally hit me. “Go in that stall and pass me your dress. I’m going to give you my outfit to wear instead.”
Vanessa scrunched up her nose. “You’re going to put Eloise in a power suit?”
Anger flared in Mandy’s eyes, and I pursed my lips, shaking my head almost imperceptibly at Vanessa, warning her that she wasn’t helping.
“Are you offering her your dress instead?” Mandy said, her nostrils flaring as she kept her anger tightly held within the way only we secretaries could do.
“It’s fine. I really appreciate it, Mandy,” I interjected, scrambling into the stall and slamming it shut.
I wormed my way out of my clothes, tossing it over the divider between our stalls and waited for Mandy to pass me her outfit while mine continued to leak water all over the floor. I quickly shimmied into the skirt and buttoned up the pale blue blouse before slipping on the jacket. Stepping out of the bathroom stall, I held out my arms and twirled for Vanessa to appraise me.
Mandy peeked her head out of the bathroom stall and lifted her upper lip to one side before glancing at Vanessa. “She looks like someone’s secretary, doesn’t she?”
“I told you she would,” Vanessa said coolly, folding her arms under her chest. “Take off the blouse. That’ll help.”
Looking down at the blouse and back up at Vanessa, I shook my head. “I already told you I’m not going out there in just my bra. This isn’t a lingerie runway show, and I’m no model.”
“Oh, stop,” Vanessa said, rolling her eyes. “If you take off the blouse and wear just the jacket, it’ll look more avant-garde. The last thing you need right now is to look like someone forgettable.”
I tried to argue but knew I was done for when Mandy sided with Vanessa. Grumbling that I still wasn’t excited about the prospect of going to a party wearing
only half an outfit, I removed the blouse and put the jacket back on, gulping at the new plunging neckline of the jacket. Though it didn’t show anything that I didn’t care for the whole world to see, it was skimpier than how I usually dressed. For once, I was grateful I didn’t have as robust a chest as someone like Candy because otherwise, I would’ve been bursting at the seams.
Vanessa had laid out an assortment of makeup supplies on the counter, and when I came out of the stall, she nodded approvingly. “That’s better. Here. Turn around so I can put this on.”
Holding up a gorgeous necklace that sparkled like a clear mountain lake on a sunny day, she put it on and clasped it around my neck. It dangled tastefully, adding a little something extra that would let everyone know that tonight, I was nobody’s assistant.
“Where did you get it? It’s so pretty,” I said, looking at myself in the mirror and fingering the largest stone dangling at the bottom of the necklace.
“I think it was when I was in Egypt. My papá bought it for me, and I forgot I had it in this purse. Now don’t lose it. Those are real diamonds.”
I about choked on my own tongue. “This had to have cost ten thousand dollars!”
“More,” Vanessa said smugly. “My papá’s rich, remember?”
“Enough gloating,” Mandy said, coming out in her blouse and slip. “Let’s get her hair and makeup fixed as best we can so you two can get to the party.”
I squatted under the hand dryer until my hair was mostly dry so Mandy could twist it into a tasteful messy bun at the crown of my head, while Vanessa glued on another pair of false eyelashes she had stashed in her purse, murmuring it was a good thing the eyeshadow Wanda had put on was practically permanent and had been largely unaffected by the rain.
“She uses special makeup on me,” I answered. “It’s some hypoallergenic stuff so my sensitive skin doesn’t puff up when I have an allergic reaction.”
Pushing up a tube of red lipstick, Vanessa quickly scanned the label. “This shouldn’t cause any reactions. At least I don’t think so.” Before I could protest, she grabbed my chin and glossed what surely was half the tube’s worth of lipstick on.
Pushing in one last bobby pin, Mandy quipped, “At least if the lipstick causes swelling, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Plump lips are all the rage.”
“Just as long as I don’t look like Candy. Every time I see her, I think of those toy wax lips,” I shuddered, making Mandy and Vanessa giggle.
“There,” Mandy pronounced, giving me the once over. When Vanessa stepped aside, and I saw myself in the mirror, I had to give them credit. For what limited time and supplies they had, I didn’t look much worse for wear.
Delicately touching my mouth so as not to smudge anything, I mentioned, “I’ve never worn red lipstick before.”
Vanessa spritzed me with her perfume, making me sneeze as the cloud settled. Tucking her things back into her purse, she asserted, “Then you’ve been missing out on all the fun. Everyone should wear red lipstick at least once in their life.”
“I guess I have,” I agreed.
Mandy shooed us out the door, and though I sheepishly apologized about her missing out on the party, she batted her hand, reassuring me that she’d been to enough of Harper Music’s bashes to know what they were like.
“Go. Mingle. Make your fans happy. But I swear, if you go outside and get wet again, I will make you wear a trash bag,” she deadpanned, though there was a good-natured sparkle lighting her eyes.
I thanked her once more, and Vanessa linked her arm with mine, powering us all the way to the party. Once inside the darkened room, buzzing with music from an onstage D.J. with a tower of speakers and a disco ball sending out shards of twinkling light as it lazily spun overhead, we were quickly mobbed by fans the moment they recognized us. I don’t think I’d been entirely prepared to meet the wave who crushed in on me, but it was flattering to have people of all ages hyperventilate because they were standing next to little old me. Thankfully, I didn’t have to do a lot of talking, as most rambled excitedly while I pasted my biggest grin on my face and nodded. Slowly, the crowd passed me around the room through dozens of songs and countless handshakes and hugs. The whole thing was making my head spin. I still had a serious case of imposter syndrome and felt like I was intruding on something I shouldn’t have.
When the excitement around me started to ebb, and people wandered off to the dance floor or in search of food, I took the opportunity to survey the room, curious what everyone else was up to. Becky and Anora were both surrounded by people as they drank up the attention while Vanessa was obviously the center of attention in her corner of the room, engaging a large group in a lively conversation over the thrumming music. She clutched Harrison’s hand, but he was content to watch her, remaining mostly in her shadow, lovestruck and stupidly happy over his luck that of all people, Vanessa had chosen him.
When my eyes landed on Warren, sitting at a booth off to the side, my heart happily skipped a beat. He looked as dashing as ever, especially as a lock of his dark hair fell across his forehead. If I were sitting nearby, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist brushing it back for him.
With my fingers tangled behind my back, I studied him. He had a steady stream of admirers going over to introduce themselves, some of which practically sat in his lap as they leaned over to speak to him. Despite their obvious attempts to flirt, he was nothing but cordial and friendly.
I wasn’t expecting his gaze to flit over to me, but when he did, I startled slightly. His eyes smoldered as he took me in, and I dropped my eyes, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear and changing my direction, I took a few strolling steps so I wasn’t tempted to return to outright gawking. From the corner of my eyes, I saw him stand and politely excuse himself, much to the chagrin of his many admirers, then jog over to me. I swallowed and brushed my sweaty palms across Mandy’s skirt, making a mental note to make sure it was dry cleaned before I returned it because as much as my hands were damp, my armpits were gushing.
“Hi,” Warren said as he closed in.
“Hi-lo,” I said, stumbling over my words. I wanted to slap my forehead for my lame greeting, but I stopped myself by grabbing the bottom of the jacket I was wearing.
Warren looked at me with the same hungry expression I’d seen on him the first time we’d been reunited. “You look incredible.”
I appreciated that his gaze didn’t tumble down to my bare chest. It wasn’t the raciest outfit I’d seen that night, but wearing the skirt suit sans blouse was pushing the boundaries of what I was comfortable with.
“So do you.” Pointing to his head, I asked, “No cowboy hat tonight?”
“Nah. Harrison nixed it when I tried putting it on.”
We stared at each other for a few moments, neither of us knowing what to say. Warren poked his thumb over his shoulder toward the dance floor. “Wanna take a spin together?”
The music had slowed, and the couples already dancing were draped on each other, holding each other up as they turned lazily to Haley Reinhart’s rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love. I audibly gulped but ultimately nodded.
Warren reached out and took my hand, pulling me to the dance floor as I smiled stupidly behind him. Drawing me around, he arranged my hand in his and put his other on the small of my back instead of hugging my body next to his, the way so many other couples were glued together. His gentlemanly nature let me breathe a sigh of relief, and I gave him a small smile. He returned it with one that was anything but reserved.
“Enjoying yourself?” Warren asked as he spun me expertly around the floor.
“It’s certainly been a ride,” I answered, right before I jammed my foot onto his. He groaned, making me want to back away, but he tightened his grip, refusing to let me escape so easily. “Maybe I shouldn’t dance and talk at the same time. You could lose a toe.”
“I’ve got plenty more,” Warren teased. His brown eyes were so focused on mine I couldn’t help but squirm as he watched me with suc
h intensity. The words of the song, the gentle swaying back and forth and being pressed so closely to him was all too magical to turn away from. He cleared his throat and asked, “Say, what are you doin’ early next week? We have a couple extra days by the time we get done in Denver, and I’ve never been there before. I’d love to go explore the city with you.”
“Oh. Actually, that’s where I’m from. I was going to be spending most of my time with my family.” Warren was crestfallen at my words until I remembered my mother’s invitation. I blurted, “Why don’t you come with me to Sunday dinner?”
Warren’s countenance brightened significantly, and an impish grin graced his perfect lips. “Are you inviting me on a date to meet your parents?”
I flushed, realizing that’s exactly what I’d done. “My mom’s making ham. I know you like ham.”
“Whatever the reason, Eloise, I accept.”
Chapter Eight
“Well, here we are,” I said airily, gesturing to my parents’ two story brick home that was the definition of immaculate, picturesque…and slightly boring. In the twenty years they’d lived there, they’d never changed anything about the original build from the black shutters to the overly simplistic stock landscaping the contractor had stuck in the ground before moving onto the next house on our cul-de-sac. It wasn’t in my parents’ nature to think outside the box, and their home was simply one manifestation of the comfort they found in blending in. As much as I sometimes fought their plainness, it was home, and it felt like it the moment we pulled into the driveway.
Warren bent forward over the steering wheel and peered at the house through the windshield, he whistled. “You were one lucky lady to grow up in a place like this.”
“It’s nothing special.”
“It’s the castle you grew up in. Fit for a princess like you.”
Tucking my chin into my chest, I blushed and guffawed at his smooth compliment. While my cheeks were still smoldering, I grabbed the door handle of the old truck we’d driven over in and let myself out.
Written in the Stars Page 7
